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#and then she realized that the rest of the world doesn't find her as special

vigilante-3073 · 5 months

Text

Apology Flowers

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky buys you flowers.

TW: Fluff, nervous Bucky, pre-established relationship, lovesick Bucky.

Bucky stood in front of the flower stand, bright blue eyes running over all the colorful options. He knew that every flower had meaning, but seeing the sheer variety had him lost.

"Can I help you find something, Sir?" The elderly salesperson asked.

Bucky sighed, "Yeah, I could definitely use some help. I'm looking to buy flowers for my girl, but I'm feeling a little lost," He confessed with a small smile.

"Well, what's her favorite color, dear?" The woman asked.

"She really likes pink," Bucky said.

"Then we have a place to start. Is there a special occasion at all?" She asked.

"No, not really. I had to go out of town for a few days on short notice and didn't get to say goodbye before I left," Bucky said.

It wasn't necessarily a lie, he did have to leave town on short notice. The poor woman didn't need to know that he had been traveling the world with Sam Wilson to stop a terrorist group.

"That's very sweet, there's not many men like you around anymore," She mused, scanning the options.

"Don't I know it," Bucky muttered.

"Ah," She said suddenly, locating what she had been looking for.

The woman gathered multiple pink and white flowers together, tilting the top of the assorted bouquet towards Bucky.

"How's that, dear?" She asked, Bucky smiled.

"It's perfect," He said.

....

Bucky made his way down the hallway towards the small apartment that he shared with Y/N.

He took a deep breath as he tucked a hand into his pocket to pull out his keys.

She would be pissed and he knew that he deserved it. Bucky had practically disappeared, no calls or texts to explain anything.

He had only sent one: 'With Sam. Be home soon'

Then his phone died. And that was a few days ago.

Bucky slid his key into the lock before opening the door and stepping into the apartment.

"Doll, you home?" He called.

Y/N appeared around the corner quickly, rushing over to meet him.

"Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick," She said, pressing herself against his chest as she hugged him tightly.

Bucky wrapped his arms around her, careful not to crush the bouquet.

He felt like he could finally relax for the first time in days. Bucky hadn't realized how much he missed her until she was in his arms again.

"I'm so sorry, doll. Sam and I got caught up in something big and I couldn't just leave him," Bucky said.

She pulled away, cupping his cheeks and inspecting the bruises and cuts littering his skin. He had hoped they would heal more before seeing her again.

"I'm gonna kill him," Y/N muttered.

"I'm okay," Bucky assured, thumb brushing across her hip gently.

Her shoulders relaxed as she exhaled, "Bucky, what happened? Why didn't you call me?" She asked.

"My phone died," Bucky stated.

She huffed, "You are so lucky that I love you as much as I do," Y/N said.

"I brought you flowers... I know it doesn't make up for what I did, but I'm really sorry" He said, holding the bouquet up for her to see.

She took the bundle from his hand, smiling softly as she sniffed the petals, "Thank you, Bucky," Y/N said.

She rose up onto her toes, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

Bucky leaned forward, chasing her lips as she pulled away. He slid his arms around her waist, "Kiss me like you missed me?" He asked.

Y/N's smile widened, hand resting on the side of his neck with her thumb resting along the curve of his jaw as she brought his lips to her's.

Bucky moved his lips against her's, his hands sliding under the material of her t-shirt to rest against her bare skin.

Bucky thanked his lucky stars for whatever he had done right in his life to deserve someone as amazing as her.

He hoped that the small velvet ring box hidden away in the back of his drawer would show just how much he loved her, but that's a story for another time.

Y/N pulled away, "I need to put these flowers in some water. Why don't you hop in the shower and I will meet you there?" She proposed.

"I love you so damn much," He mumbled.

"I love you too. Now go before I change my mind," She smiled.

Bucky pressed another quick kiss to her lips before he released her, making his way down the hallway in the direction of their bedroom.

Bucky Barnes loved his woman.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #falcon and the winter soldier #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes

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novalizinpeace · 3 months

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you know, I think I'm starting to see a pattern in Craftycorn family...

Hympis=Bad

Easel=Good

Canvas=Bad

Craftycorn=Good

I just really think if that Poppy Co idea of a season with the character childrens came true, Crafty and Dogday child would be a little demon.

Not at the point of starting a war like the other 2, Crafty and Day wouldn't let it happen, but I still feel like they would would be a anti-hero creating conflict throught the episodes.

That or they're a chaotic cremlin like their uncle(Catnap), just with even more energy like Dogday.

Good to see someone realizing that fact with crafty's family even before i finish the explanation of the wars, it true that history tend to repeat itself, but Play.Co was a coward

but you know who isn't a coward?

i present to you, the fanfic that Charlie and Alba had been writting for those two

The concept is simple, basically the next gen having Catnap as a mentor to find their place in this world, specially Dogday and Craftycorn's children, since they all are in a constant fight with the ''who is going to get our parents pendant?''

(first concept i made for this yesterday when i didn't have electricity)

To resume each children (i don't have their reference yet, 'm fast but not this fast):

-Sunrise (red puppycorn): the oldest of the triplet, she's a menace in all the ways possible, but not in a evil way, more in a young Gaia way, she like to explore and her nose is almost always on the ground, looking for new things. A leader just in paper, 'cause half the time she doesn't know what she's doing.

-Palette (Cream flying puppy): Middle triplet, he love to use his wings to get away from trouble, or mess with his non-flying sibling, he repeat the word ''what?'' a lot.

-Shylight (white and blue puppycorn): the youngest triplet, he's just brave when he's making a mischief with his sibling, but when he's left alone he become a babbling, nervous mess, probably having a mix of the insecurities in young dogday and craftycorn, Catnap insist he's like this 'cause crafty babied him to much.

-Prisma (yellow alicorn puppy): she was a surprise baby from the stork, nor Dogday nor crafty remember writting a letter for her, but the stork insist they had send one for a ''last special baby''. Since this story is write by adults for adults readers, Catnap think they write it while drunk (aka a literal upsie baby lol). She's around 5 y/o, but she hadn't leave her pacificier yet, and her sibling know is a baaaaad idea to try to take it from her

-Berry Bearhug (brown bear): Catnap's and Bobby's baby, a 1 y/o cutie that had spend to much time with her mother's side of the family, so she tend to run in all four and grow. Catnap isn't bothered by that.

There's also the rest of the characters, that are children of the rest of the critters

we have Cuckoo (black chicken), Kickin's daughter (not revealing the other parent, just know is another man). And Osuke, Picky's son with Inoshishi.

Then we have Bubba's daughter, Smarty Tiny (yup, he give her his parent's middle name).

and the oldest of the other critters children, Hoppy's son, Spring Seashell (the only one that already got his mother's pendant).

'm not making something with this whole concept, my hands are already full with the cartoon and the factory Aus, but be free to think in ideas for this little rascals, the factory gang would love to read about it

#poppy playtime #smiling critters #smiling critters arg #smilingcritterslostmedia #smiling critters oc #ask #nova say

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scribbledghost · 5 months

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Strike A Match

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Civilian!Wife!Reader (no Y/N)

Rating: T

Word count: 1,041

Warnings: Major character death, angst, no happy ending, Third Person POV

Note: I wanted some angst, so have some angst. Very rarely do I write something without a happy ending, but this seems to be the exception to the rule this time. :V

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Ghost was a special forces soldier. She was a civilian. He should have left this world far sooner than her.

The universe had things backwards. Nothing made sense. Not anymore.

He’d gotten the call almost as soon as the task force had touched down back on base. All four of them were weary, beaten, bruised, and barely keeping their eyelids open. But any sense of fatigue had left him as soon as one of the higher-ups rushed their way to him.

He doesn't remember the exact words now, only bits and pieces. Flashbulb memories of a day he’d do anything to forget.

Your wife.

Car accident.

Hospital.

He’d been belligerent when he’d arrived at the emergency room. That much, he remembered. He’d stormed his way through the bays, looking desperately to find her.

Part of him now wishes he hadn’t.

It had taken five nurses to hold him back while another three attempted to restart her heart. He’s sure he screamed obscenities at the staff keeping him from her as he yanked and pulled against them all. He fought, he kicked, he pulled, and he now thinks it was a minor miracle that no one did anything more drastic to get him out of the building.

Perhaps it was because he had still been decked out in his full combat kit. It must have been frightening enough to try and subdue a man as large as he was, let alone one that was loaded to the teeth with weapons.

He doesn’t remember much of what happened after that. Just the lengthy, ear-splitting screech of the monotone heart monitor attached to her body, coupled with him shoving medical staff out of the way to take over doing some form of CPR.

He doesn’t remember how long it took for him to stop.

To give up.

To collapse next to the gurney.

But he does remember that it was Price that got him there, with a soft hand on his shoulder and a quiet “that’s enough, son”. When his captain and the rest of the task force had gotten to the hospital, he didn’t know.

Had they seen him struggling with the nurses? Had they overheard him screaming at the woman on the table, begging her not to leave him?

If they had, they never mentioned it.

In fact, they didn’t speak much at all. Simple questions, a couple of quick “I’m sorry”s, but not much else.

Just as well. He didn’t feel like talking anyway, and even if he did, he was too far disassociated to string together anything coherent. He vaguely remembers funeral arrangements being made, vaguely remembers staying at Price’s place and having Soap deliver clothes and other necessities for him from the home he’d once shared with her. Ghost couldn’t bring himself to go on his own - the memories alone threatened to suffocate him. He wasn’t sure he could handle the physical evidence of her absence.

It’s backwards, he thinks now as he stands next to an open grave.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

As he stares at her casket, he thinks back to when he’d watched from the shadows as a crowd had gathered to pay their respects to his mother.

And Tommy.

And Beth.

And little Joseph.

This time, he’s front and center. Right next to where her body lay.

His stomach turns.

He may as well be there with her, he realizes.

Only a small shred of Simon Riley had remained after the deaths of his family; one she’d managed to cradle in her hands and grow until it felt like a part of him again. A part of him other than Ghost.

That part of him is gone now. Simon Riley died with her in that emergency room. He had died as soon as Ghost had stopped the chest compressions and fallen to his knees.

Only Ghost remains now.

He knows those close to him can see it; he’s rarely been alone for too long since she left him. He goes through the motions - eats when Price puts food in front of him, showers when ordered to, sleeps when his body collapses in exhaustion. He doesn’t know if he’s spoken much more than one-word sentences since the incident, nor does he care. Even now, as people line up to offer condolences, he only nods in response.

He thinks that if he hears the phrase “I’m sorry for your loss” one more time, he’s going to kill someone.

As he stares at the casket lid separating him from her, he sees his future clearly - there is no other path left for him. He will throw himself into the task force, volunteering for whatever borderline-suicidal missions the brass hands down. He will do this again, and again, and again, as many times as he needs to, until finally the universe takes pity on him.

He will become the prized fighting dog he knows he can be, and he will cause as much destruction as he needs to until someone finally puts him down.

He has lost her in this life. He’s ready to move on to the next one, ready to begin the search for her again.

He doesn’t realize that the rest of the funeral-goers have left until he blinks and realizes it’s now too dark for him to see the grave in front of him. He doesn’t feel anything, though he’s sure his voice cracks under the weight of his words when he apologizes to the open air.

Part of him wants to scream, to bellow out into the night about how wrong all of this is. But he doesn’t. Ghosts don’t tend to scream in ways others can hear.

Instead, he stalks away to his car, gets in, and drives slowly out of the graveyard.

Ghost isn’t fully in control of his movements, but he can’t bring himself to care. He isn’t quite sure why, but he gets a can of gasoline and travels down a road he’s intimately familiar with.

An indeterminate amount of time later after emptying the can, he stands in a yard, staring at a building he can’t bring himself to go inside of anymore.

And he strikes a match.

#is this barely-comprehensible? Maybe #do i care? no #have simon going insane with grief #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost scribbles

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alicerosejensen · 1 year

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I did it!

Papa!Leon and his sweet pumpkin daughter!

I died of cuteness while writing this. I think Leon would be a great father, but being a government agent means he's often away from home. Because of this, he feels wild guilt towards his wife and baby.

I hope you enjoy it too.

Warning: Papa Leon, his child is a girl.

I still stealing gifs and pinterest pictures.

- Leon will definitely do everything to protect his family even from a potential threat. Your house with him is a small island of boundless peace and security. It has no place for bioweapons.

- And the first thing you need to know is that when leon finds out that his S/O is pregnant by him (even if they planned it for a child), he will be a little confused and scared. But only because he understands what a big responsibility falls on his shoulders: Leon wants to protect baby from any troubles.

- Of course, he already loves your child with him. He already has a couple of names in mind, if you don't mind.

- Leon will talk to his baby a lot, constantly stroking and kissing your belly. You will tell him that it is useless and the term is still too short, but he does not care. He will also insist that you get plenty of rest and not take on too much work.

- He likes to equip the children's room.

- His wife (and I'm sure that he will settle down, read the post about the college girl) is always under vigilant supervision. Family is what Leon puts in the first place. You and the baby must be absolutely healthy, so visiting a doctor, taking vitamins for pregnant women, special gymnastics - this is what Leon will not disregard. If you forget something, he will immediately remind you of it.

- Leon has absolutely no revulsion. He is not one of those men who are afraid of pregnant wives. Sure, he can get tired of some of the pregnancy quirks like eating habits or frequent mood swings, but he understands how difficult it is for you in the first place! No matter how desirable a child is, pregnancy is not always wonderful, and often terrible. Leon loves you and will happily massage your feet, bring you whatever you ask for (even if he has to run back and forth a few times) and comfort you if you suddenly feel overwhelmed again.

- His biggest hate is when he gets called to work. This usually goes on for several weeks or even a whole month, and Leon does not want to leave you unattended, so he will most likely ask someone close to visit you (this could be Claire or your parents)

- Leon keeps an ultrasound photo of the baby. He doesn't know a damn thing where everything is, but the very idea that it's HIS baby makes him a little sentimental. No, he will never throw it away.

- He doesn't care about the gender of the baby.

- However, when he takes the babygirl in his arms, Leon decides that she will always need additional protection.

- He will tremble with excitement when he realizes that this rosy-cheeked, chubby baby is his tiny daughter. Leon's tears will flow looking at her.

- He literally has a real diamond at home that sleeps in a crib and let at least one bastard try to harm her!

- If Leon is at home, then taking care of his daughter also lies with him. He really does not understand how can ignore or leave your child! Bathe? Change diaper? Change clothes or put to bed if her wake up at night? Leon will be the one to sing the baby a lullaby.

- I'm sure he has terrible sleep problems. But you can wake up and see that the bed is empty and Leon has gone somewhere, but there is no light in the kitchen. You will find him in the nursery where he will sit silently over the crib and just look at his daughter.

- "I just can't bear it if anything happens to her" - that's what he said when he felt your presence. - "My pumpkin...so small. I would give her the whole world."

- This is another of his giant fears - the loss of his daughter.

- Leon will call the girl pumpkin. Constantly. Or "my sweet pumpkin"

- He will always bring her new toys.

- He likes to spoon feed her when she a little older . Definitely, Leon will rejoice at the first successes and will support the idea of creating a children's album, where the important moments of childhood will be preserved: the first steps, the first word, how many milk teeth, etc...

- Whether he is tired or not, Leon will play with his daughter if she brings him her toys.

- In the future, Leon will most likely learn to braid pigtails. He also knows the plots of many children's cartoons and all these songs.

- Would not mind if the baby fell asleep on his chest. Leon will either fall asleep with her or gently carry her to bed.

- He won't have a single photo or any mention of you or your child on his phone, but that's only because he's protecting you.

- He keeps all the cute pictures at home in his desk drawer.

- Leon will definitely spoil the baby a little.

- However, he can also be a strict father.

- He will not allow more than what is required. Sweets? of course, but only within reasonable limits. This also applies to behavior. Leon will not encourage whims.

- When Leon is away from home, he feels like his heart is breaking because of guilt. Especially if he looks at those puppy dog eyes of his daughter. He would give up everything in the world to stay with his family.

- He always hugs and kisses you and your child before leaving.

- If some son of a bitch from Umbrella or someone like Simmons decides to kidnap his daughter for blackmail or revenge, Leon will turn into a real monster who will do everything to get her back. He might have to ask for help, but once Leon gets to that bastard, no one will save him. However, the baby will be able to calm her father's dead nerves a little.

- His child is literally the meaning of his life. Having lost her, he will lose himself forever. Most likely Leon will want to put a bullet in his forehead.

- However, in a good scenario, Leon always returns home to his cheerful little girl. When they meet, he always picks her up in his arms and kisses her on the cheek. He just adores her! If Leon comes home at night when she is sleeping, he will quietly come into the room to straighten her blanket and just look at her for a couple of minutes.

- Family is what keeps Leon from plunging completely into despair. He can still drink sometimes, especially if he lost someone on a mission, but he believes that he has no right to feel sorry for himself. He is a husband and father. Because of this, it can be emotionally difficult for him, but the embrace of a loved one is what gives him peace and tranquility. If his daughter decides to hug him just like that or saw that Dad was sitting sad, then Leon will not let her out of his arms for a long time. She is his anesthetic for all wounds.

- Leon would not want his daughter to follow in his footsteps. If she tells him one day that she wants to be an agent like him, Leon will be very scared and will most likely try to scare her to dissuade her forever. Quarrels between them regarding this topic are possible in the future.

- Leon is unlikely to have any more children. He will be very careful that you do not get pregnant again. Maybe he'll think about a vasectomy. He is sure that he can protect one child, but two is already problematic. Moreover, he is often not at home and his wife will find it quite difficult to cope with two children.

- Adolescence is a difficult thing. This is the period of growing up of a daughter that Leon would find difficult to survive. Loud music? Conflict-provoking behavior? friendship with dubious guys? Leon's daughter could accuse him of constant absence, so he has no right to scold her for coming home late.

- This is what Leon will always lose all words for.

- You could comfort him by saying that your child is just having such a period and they just need to talk to each other when everything cools down.

- Leon does not encourage night walks, tattoos, etc. If one day he smells alcohol or cigarettes from his daughter (or, God forbid, she came home a little drunk after a party), a scandal will break out.

- It would be like Moira and Barry's relationship.

- The only difference is that a difficult relationship arose against the background of the constant absence of his father. By her behavior, the girl only wants to attract his attention.

- Leon is still ready to go down to hell for his family.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #reader #papa leon #dad leon s Kennedy

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yuri-is-online · 8 months

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Bitch the Pot (Trey Clover x Reader)

Trey's birthday is coming up and you really want to buy him a present.

But what if he doesn't want it? What if he just thinks of your efforts as annoying, or even worse what if he sees right through you and makes things awkward. What if he stashes things away and makes fun of them later, years later when he barely remembers your name.

What if he's secretly looking forward to your presence and hasn't even considered he'd be lucky enough to get a gift. What if... what if...

notes: they/them used for Yuu, we're going to hurt comfort town choo choo mother fuckers, I am using the Hitchhiking Ghost names for the Ramshackle Ghosts because I am unoriginal, the more I think about Trey the more I realize Idia is right, Trey's a skethcy mfer and yeah that's hot. If you like this check out my masterlist for more fic.

You didn't want to indulge Trey's teeth thing.

Sure it will make him happy, smooth over all your little insecurities pricking at your heart as you poke through the second hand store for what you had thought would be a really cute idea on your way here but now weren't so sure about. Besides you are pretty sure that everyone else is going to buy him a bundle of floss and call it a day, well other than Rook who has been waxing poetic about how he had "the most fitting cap for the Rose Chevalier" so all the more reason to put a little less of a personal interest into your gifting and more of a thoughtful touch.

As thoughtful as you could afford anyway. You aren't even sure Trey likes these sorts of things, though that worry is sort of drowned by how surprised you are to find nice looking china in Crane Port's equivalent of a Good Will. There is a nice selection of tea cups, mismatched saucer plates, and the odd pot sat all by its lonesome all with neatly written prices on stickers you don't look forward to scrubbing off.

Afternoon Tea Special~ Pick one Pot, 4 cups w/ saucers, creamer, and sugar bowl: all for just 25 T!

Cute, and not a bad idea you supposed even if it did feel a bit overkill. Your original intention had just been to pick up a sugar bowl and maybe one cup, something for him to put candies in that had a lid so no flies could get at his violets. But it really would be a shame to pass up such a nice deal and hey, if Trey didn't like it he could just ditch it with the Heartslabyul kitchenware once he graduated and never speak to you again.

"Oh this is such a cute little selection!" The lady at the counter's eyes practically sparkle as she carefully wraps up your choices in tissue paper.

"It's a birthday gift." You can't help but mumble and the sparkle flutters out to her entire body, ah that's right, this lady always did look a bit bored when you came in. It seems like you have fed her and her knitting circle for the rest of the week.

"Well then this won't to at all." She huffs and stops wrapping up your order and bends under her counter, the tell tale ruffles of paper and boxes sounding oddly comforting as she produces what you think is a hat box and proudly begins to organize the mismatched set and fetches out even more tissue paper. "Must be for someone important with how long you've been eyeing up a sugar bowl." She wiggles her eye brows. You try to keep your focus on said bowl, you didn't realize she'd been watching you but then again you have been coming down here every spare weekend to stare at it. This shop was nice, it had a bunch of cheap clothes and nick knacks that were used sure, but a life saver for someone from a completely different world. If the lady is thankfully not offended by your silence. She simply tacks your receipt to the box and sends you off with a wink.

"Thank you for your purchase! Please come back soon!" And tell me all bout it! You swear she says it but you don't hear it, too much blood is thrumming in your ears

The hat box is not out of place among the gifts on the party table, so trey doesn't have an excuse to stare at it even if his eyes keep coming back to it. It's lavender, plain save for the cream bow he hopes Yuu tied around it, and had been decently heavy when he picked it up before Cater scolded him about playing favorites.

"Be a good Senior and eat the cookies we made for you until Riddle brings out the cake." He flicks his nose with a knowing look. "Normal people save the best for last right? I'm sure Yuu-yuu will be fine with waiting, since they can barely look at you today~" And of course like a fool he whips his head to look, startling them and proving Cater's point as they immediately scurry back to Ace and Deuce.

"Screw you." He's only half joking but Cater's fully laughing and probably already took a picture. "I'm just worried they felt like they needed to bring a gift I would have been happy just to-"

"No you wouldn't have." For someone who likes lying to himself Cater really doesn't seemed thrilled with his choice to gaslight himself. "You would have spent the rest of the night thinking 'ooooh it'd be really nice if I got something from Yuu, I wonder if they hate meeee, I should make sure they think I don't care about helping them some more so they leave me alone and I don't have to think about how nice it would be to-'"

"Cater!" Trey has never been so grateful to hear Riddle yell about anything in his life. "Could you please help me with the cake? I was going to ask Yuu but they had to go back to Ramshackle."

"Yuu's back at Ramshackle?" Trey reaches to adjust his glasses, trying to ground himself.

"Yes, they said they were feeling sick and-" That's all Trey registers, though he hears the rest "went back to lie down, Grim insisted on staying to make sure the food didn't get them sick." It's his party, he can't just leave that would be an extreme violation of the rules but Cater's earlier accusation comes back to him. Make them think I won't care about them. It's not intentional, he thinks it's obvious he always will but then again-

"Fifteen minutes." Cater whispers under his breath.

"Thirty."

"You're delusional." Still Cater doesn't sound mad. "Eighteen."

"Twenty." He's already snatched up the hat box and making his way towards the doors.

~~~~

"Awww Yuu." Phineas would pat your head if he could. "I'm sure it's not that bad, you're just overthinking things."

"Yeah I think anyone would be happy to get a gift from you!" Gus tries, all three ghosts perking up slightly when you smile just a bit at his encouragement. "And if not then well..."

"I know I'm just being dramatic but I couldn't stand waiting anymore." You don't mention how Ace and Deuce had been teasing you, not wanting to relive the absolute embarrassment of having been caught staring at their Vice-Warden one too many times for dots to remain unconnected. "I asked Grim to bring back some cake but I don't know if he'll remember."

"Oooh let's take bets on it!" Ezra cheers and a familiar, unexpected laugh interrupts sending the ghosts scattering and leaving you at the mercy of a familiar face.

"I think it's safe to say that would be a pretty obvious bet." Trey sets the hat box on your coffee table, folding his strong arms and firmly sticking a lump in your throat. "You should have bet on me."

"Returning your gift is not bringing me something." You huff and Trey has the decency to look a bit awkward.

"I'm not here to return it, there's rules to gifts you know." Oh no. "For example, on our birthdays, the Queen of Hearts says we get to ask for anything we want." He finally moves, unfortunately for you he's decided to use his height to his advantage and lean over the table to crowd you back into the couch. "And I spent a long time thinking about what I should ask for from you."

"Um- I well-" You're looking everywhere but him now, as if you were before. "I did get you a gift though?" He laughs.

"And you ran away before I could thank you." Trey begins to unwrap the ribbons, slowly as if he's waiting for you to look at him but not wanting to deny his curiosity any longer. "But that doesn't change the rules. Sorry, I didn't make them."

The sugar bowl is the first piece he finds, the shop lady has to have set it on top on purpose. His eyebrows raise, not in disappointment you think, curiosity hopefully as he slowly opens the rest of them.

"Sorry." You immediately say to fill the space out of habit, and Trey stops his examination to look up at you.

"What for?" He picks up the sugar bowl, just as amused as you with the clover flowers patterned across it in a nice twist on his name and half the accessories he owns. "Don't tell me you want this stuff back, its mine now."

"No! I'm glad you like," you cringe at the question in your tone and cower at the smirk on Trey's face "I mean I hope you like it."

"A hand picked tea set from the Ramshackle Prefect? It's perfect. Especially for a birthday gift for me." He carefully wraps up the cups and their saucers, silence once again falling over the room as you wonder why he hasn't called you out on your lie, the self doubt suggesting he hadn't noticed. "I meant what I said earlier you know."

"What, about making demands of me?" You say.

"Hey chill I only sort of meant it like that." He doesn't even bother trying to hide his amusement. "I mean betting on me. I know it might sound strange to hear me say, but I do have things I think are worth extra effort. And if I have to put in a lot of it to get you to understand that I am glad you are in my life, then I'll just have to do that." So he did know you weren't sick, and was just dancing around the subject to be polite as usual.

"Happy birthday Trey." Because what else are you supposed to say, and he tries his best to not let his disappointment show as he takes his opened gift back to the rose garden. "I'm- I hope you have a nice time at your party."

He pauses at the threshold of your dorm, the wicked smile returning. "I think I know what I want to ask you to do."

"Oh no." You did not mean to say that out loud.

"Mhm. But you are going to have to come back to Heartslabyul to hear it, but after the party, we can use our cups." Our cups he says, as if you had picked out any cups that were supposed to represent you.

He noticed, of course Trey noticed that there was no trace of Yuu in this very you gift. But he could fix that, if you would just give him a chance. And maybe get the calm celebration he actually wants when you do.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #trey clover x reader #hm #tempted to make goodwill lady an oc because i think yuu deserves an ally in crane port #no idea who she'd be based off of though lol

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empresskadia · 4 months

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Happy Valentine's day! I lowkey wanna write a drabble for today, but I have nothing planned out. But-

I think it would be cute to give the Spartans Valentine's Day chocolates.

John would be puzzled, like why? He doesn't understand the concept of celebrating love and affection to the world, it was just another day for him until you gave him the small box and told him "Happy Valentine's Day." John's seriously confused but accepts his partner's gift with a subtle nod, not wanting to dismiss your gesture. It wasn't until he noticed others at the base receiving similar tokens from their partners that his confusion deepened. Why were people exchanging gifts today? What made it so special?

It's Cortana who has to jump in and explain the origins and significance of Valentine's Day, how it's the idea of expressing love and appreciation, and how it's a tradition to exchange gifts on this special day with the one you love. This was so foreign to him but he tries to understand, at the very least for you.

John goes MIA for a solid hour, like you honestly can't find him and no one has seen him. So when he appears before you with a bouquet of wild roses and presents them to you, the first thing you notice are the thornless stems and John's dirty hands. It's clear he had gone out of his way to personally gather these flowers.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he says, presenting you with the wild roses. His typically stoic expression softened, John might not have fully understood the concept of Valentine's Day, but his actions spoke louder than words about his commitment to you.

Though Linda didn't fully grasp the significance of the day, she understood the origins, having overheard about it from Marines in passing. She'll blink when you offer her the chocolates, giving you a raised brow before taking them. Girl is 100% secretly excited about it, she's not going to boast or react over it but the rest of Blue team can see a bounce to her step.

This was a pleasant surprise and she honestly didn't expect her partner to go out of their way for her. Linda makes it a personal mission to find something to gift you, yes she could have Roland help her buy something, and get it to the UNSC infinity, but she also wants it to be special. Maybe she could make you something with a piece of her armor? Or find something you might like during a mission?

Poor Fred was stuck with paperwork when you happened to bound into his office with a box of chocolates. He's surprised and curious when you present him with the gift, giving you this adorable head tilt when he opens it. Did he miss something? Was today an anniversary he happened to forget? The confusion is pretty evident when he asks "What's this?"

When you explain it, it clicks that he's heard about the holiday from commanders before. Honestly, the day slips his mind, it had never really held much significance to him and he only remembers it exists every once in awhile. Despite his initial confusion, Fred's expression softens into a grateful smile as he thanks you for the chocolates.

However, his mind was already racing, searching for a way to reciprocate the gesture. While he couldn't immediately think of a suitable gift, he recalled Roland mentioning that the UNSC Infinity's Memorial Park atrium was holding a dance that evening and he could do a public event for you. The idea formed in his mind, that it was a thoughtful way to show his appreciation, and a shared experience at the dance might be a meaningful way to celebrate Valentine's Day together.

I will say when Kelly finds out about the dance being held in the Memorial Park atrium, she is on her way to find her partner. Like full-on sprinting through the ship [it took Fred a minute to realize who just blurred by his office in a rush, asking if he's seen her partner.] So before you even start searching for her to give her the chocolates, Kelly has already found you first.

She was so ready to ask about this dance thing and what was going on until you gave her that sweet smile and handed her the box. Her expression transformed from eager anticipation to surprise and then delight when she opened the chocolates. Her eyes held most of her emotion, they almost seemed like they were glittering and she smiled when you explained the reason behind the gift and the upcoming dance.

Of course, she accepted your invitation with a tease, that mischievous glint in her eyes. Unbeknownst to you, she had already set aside a gift for her partner when she learned about the holiday a week beforehand from Commander Palmer. It was a small token of her affection, carefully chosen with Roland's help to express her appreciation and love.

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eldritch-nightmare · 9 months

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most to least likely move on if their s/o dies.

a short little something to post while i work on some stuff in my inbox. except i only explain the bolded ones and the rest you get to come up with your own reasons i guess.

most likely: jason the toymaker, jeff the killer, candypop, kagekao.

50/50: nina the killer, x-virus, the bloody painter, the puppeteer, homicidal liu, jane the killer, laughing jack, hobo heart, the doll maker, nathan, eyeless jack, jay, jessica, brian.

least likely: zalgo, sully, slenderman, toby, clockwork, nurse ann, emra, laughing jill, alex, tim.

JASON'S whole thing is finding the one for him, so if his lover were to die then he would move on rather quickly, to be honest. he's killed many of his past lovers after he realized that they failed his requirements and whatnot. i suppose, if he thought his current significant other was the one for him, and they died an untimely death, then maybe he'd be less likely to move on. but he moves on from people rather quickly once he's done with them.

NINA really depends on how close she was to her significant other before their death. if things were fresh and new, then she'd probably move on with relative ease but if they've been together for years or they have such a strong bond with each other then i think it would take her a good long while to move on from their death to even think about pursuing any other relationships.

ZALGO wants to literally destroy mortals so the fact that he managed to fall in love with one? and then they died? yeah, no. he's never going to fall in love with another. that mortal was special, and now they're gone, and that just gives zalgo even more reason to create chaos and destruction. what's the point of the world living if his lover isn't there to live in it?

SULLY, unlike liu, is not accustomed to loss. he's never lost anyone close to him before, so he doesn't know what it's like to grieve and move on. so, i think, if he were to enter a relationship with someone, and his partner were to die then the likelihood of him moving on from them is damn near non-existent. i also think he'd be very hesitant to let anyone close after losing his significant other because he understands what it's like to lose someone now, and he's not sure if that's a pain he'd be willing to experience again so... it would just be safer to never let anyone close ever again.

TOBY has already lost so much, and he's already hesitant enough to let people close to him so if he enters a relationship with someone and they die? well, he'd probably break more than he already has. he's only one man, a mere mortal. he can only take so much pain and loss before it all becomes too much for him to handle. honestly, he'd probably be... grateful for slender's control over him because at least when he's in a mindless state of obey, he doesn't have to think about anything.

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ghouljams · 5 months

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WITCH BEING TERRITORIAL *bites at the bars of my cage* SHE IS SO SPECIAL TO ME

Witch can be a little territorial as a treat...

She's a lonely character, so I imagine she's the sort of omega that has never really had a true pack to take care of. The world is sort of her pack, she finds people frequently come to her with their needs and she takes care of them, she's never had time to sort out her own pack with so many outsiders to take care of. So she doesn't allow herself to truly be territorial, but there are a select few people that she indulges herself with. Never enough to interfere with their home sortie(I lowkey hate saying pack, so consortium/sortie is gonna pop up), but enough to satisfy herself.

Price gets the brunt of the scenting when she realizes he's sticking around. She will drag him back when he tries to leave, pushing her fingers in his hair and rubbing her cheek against his. He shows up to the bar smelling like honey and the rest of the 141 goes "having fun with your witch?" Yeah he is thanks for asking.

#ghoul speaks #a/b/o #oc: witch #can't believe I'm writing this shit #what have you all done to me #ghoul is allowed to be a little insane during the new year

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catnipplot · 1 year

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Sagau Genshin -but the characters can't agree what God you are

So just about every Sagau AU for Genshin agrees that every character and/or country/faction just accept the player as the Creator (or at least eventually, in the cases of the Imposter AUs). Yes, sometimes the different countries have conflicting lore connecting you to their archon, but that is as far as it goes. Which does not account for the different perspectives cultures from vastly different environments and traditions have.

So instead I porpose; Sagau where nobody agrees on who the player really is aside from a higher being. Either because of them not realizing their all controlled by the same person or they realize you are the same person, but disagrees on who you are.

To start lets address a character everyone skips over: The Heavenly Principles. There is nearly no canon-knowledge about her, so it is free reign. She is more aware than any other character, having not just awareness of this being a game, but having awareness since Gun Girls. She remembers Gun Girls and Honkai Impact, during which she was crushed by her awareness. She knows you are a player, but that doesn't matter. You are her Constant, whether you played the other games or not. Her Constant, her companion, her last anchor -when she feels you play genshin that first second, she attacks the twins to keep you connected to this world. While she doesn't share the truth with the rest of the world, Kiana might become the number one reason you isekai -and gain powers after arrival.

Now everyone else is just aware of you're influence, not the game.

Moonstadt has at first a few people actually thinking you are Venti -what with him being their god and not havin' been seen for so long-, but said archon quickly spread the word that this was not actually the case. Since then theories are running wild here, but at least they all agree you are one god. Some like Barbara, Kaeya, and Venti do think you are in fact the creator god. Lisa accidently started a rumor that you were started a rumor that you were basically an archon that was sealed away during the Archon War and Barbatos' soulmate as a joke, but the rumor mutated and now there are proofs to the point she believes it(Which makes a certain bard blush and stutter). Bennett is part of the group that thinks you are a Adventurer Archon, as you always use them as vessel when adventuring. Meanwhile Razor thinks you are the Guardian Spirit that was his childhood hero, a human raised by wolves like him, who ascended and returns to guide them during difficult times. And there are at least 50 other possible godhoods.(Think wall with strings If you 'descend' you will find a loyal fellowship regardless, but if you try to deny your godhood then that can only mean somebody erased your memories. So no worries, the theories will continue as a attempt to help you regain your 'true' past and punish whoever attacked you.

Liyue is much more structured; they all agree that you are the God of the Beginning. Not so much a Creator as a bringer of change who only appears at new beginnings -may it be their world, a new era or to fight the End of Days. Which of course makes everyone silently panic when your present gets known. They want to belief it's just a new era coming, but you use them to fight... Zhongli, just as his people, quietly spreads his network, searching for your 'true' enemy -the Abyss or the Fatui. They are ready to fight on your side regardless. Given this, Liyue might end up special when you isekai, as some characters will tread you as equal. But never forget that they see you as their last defense against Armageddon -they might speak to you like a friend, but you are so much more important.

Inazuma actually do not welcome you right away. They are seeking eternity, you bring change. But after the Traveler, who is recognized as your champion, saves them, they accept you. But the Traveler only tells them that you are 'his/her god'. So they consult the old books. They find a old, practically burned text on the Archon of Hope and Dreams. Beelzebul is devastated that she had apparently forgotten her childhood crush that died centuries before the Archon War, but had you returned? If so, you were clearly still reforming. If you descend, they welcome you at first open to you either staying or leaving to create your own city. But what is eternity without hope? Won't you reconnect with your old childhood friend?

Snezhnaya thinks you are a god connected to Visions, as you can use all Elements (even if through different vessels). Still there are pretty split at who you are. Most think you are either the Archon of Power or the Archon of Souls. Interestingly enough those two ideas give you vastly different backgrounds; The Archon of Power (Childe believes this) supposly was banished to the abyss after placing mortals over their fellow archons, while the Archon of Souls was imprisoned in Celestia and hidden from the other Archons since Creation. Either way you escaped. The Tsarista keeps quiet on the tropic, but would waste no efforts to bring you to her if you were to ever descend. She might even come to pick you up herself.

Sumeru meanwhile thinks you a Overseer to the Archons, meant to protect the balance between them in the world. You always did so from Celestia, with the Heavenly Principles as your Executer. But something happened. Members of Akademiya tend to think the Archons had fallen to the point you had to intervene yourself, while everyone else thinks there was a traitor in Celestia that forced you to flee and is responsible for the chaos appearing across the Teyvat. Still, to them you are the Judge of the Gods. Someone to be obeyed without questions. If you ever isekai, you might end up getting pressured to play the act, or they might think you have been corrupted and must be protected till your divinity restores.

Last, but not least, we have Aether and Lumine. Now regardless to which you chose, they hold the same option and loyalty to you. But they also look at the Teyvaters with pity; for a god you might be, you were not of this world. You were of their home world. Their beloved god who crossed worlds to save them when they were attacked at the beginning. Alas, this was not your world, which was why your powers are limited so much. If you descend they will conclude that Teyvat attacked you, caged you like the twins, forced you in a mortal form and messed with your memories -which neither sibling will ever forgive. You are their god after all, Teyvat had no right to you.

#genshin sagau #sagau x reader #sagau aether #sagau lumine #sagau brainrot #sagau zhongli #sagau ei #sagau venti

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lamemaster · 1 year

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Daughter-in-law of Feanorian Household (Maedhros x Reader)

Summary: a glimpse of how do your in-laws see your relationship with Maitimo.

genre: fluff

Some people are born to love, with the perfect recipe to find their other half. It's truly satisfying to witness their love. Even Tyelkormo, the gremlin of the Feanorian household, could see it. You and Nelyo were annoyingly good for each other. Every moment he witnessed you two together, he couldn't help but notice how beautifully the world shaped itself around you and his eldest brother.

Seated on the farthest couch, he observes as you follow Nelyo, trailing behind him with a befuddled look. Of course, his brother was late for court, again. "By Illuvatar!" Nelyo exclaims, one minute away from turning over the living room. "I swear I left my brooch here." The redhead is busy turning over the entire cabinet and you merely turn to wink at Tyelko, who remains mildly amused.

Tyelko watches as you walk to his mountain of a brother and gently turn him, whispering, "Here," as you open your fist with the brooch magically resting in it. "You forgot to take it off last night," you add as Nelyo returns to normal. Standing on your toes, you pull Nelyo closer, and for a moment, Tyelko wonders if he should leave, but he stops when you clip the brooch on Nelyo's cloak.

Tyelko can't help but witness the adoration in his brother's eyes, the soft look that melts with Laurelin's rays. For the next hour, he finds himself unable to move as he observes the subtle dance between you and Nelyo. It's as if you know his brother's needs better than Nelyo himself. His brooch, his papers, his quill, his satchel. Nelyafinwe's world revolves around you.

Nerdanel quickly figures out that her eldest is sulking, but the realization leaves her gawking at an unfinished statue. Maitimo doesn't notice the change in her expression, and thank Illuvatar for that! By some miracle, Nerdanel doesn't drop her chisel.

"I mean I've already looked over all the arrangements for the month. I've finished my court duties. Yet, I can't go," Maitimo drapes himself over the nearest chaise.

It's barely been two days since you left to visit your parents, a visit that is supposed to last a month. A month that Nerdanel suspects won't come to fruition if left to her eldest. "I barely have anything to do, amil," Maitimo whines. He's whining! Nerdanel finds herself with a 500-year-old elfling moping next to her, all because he misses you. He came to her to complain or maybe hear the words he really wanted - a suggestion to visit you.

Ai, Maitimo. Nerdanel resists the urge to coo at her son. Her son has always been the responsible one, and to watch him like this...Nerdanel can't help but find it endearing. Today, she won't give him the satisfaction of the answer he craves. For now, she wants to enjoy watching her son act petulantly.

Maybe tomorrow she would 'suggest' him to visit you.

The first time Maitimo brought Kano to meet you, he wore his best clothes. Kano, being a prince, had plenty of good tunics to choose from, so he carefully weighed the merits of each piece of clothing in his wardrobe the day before meeting you.

He had been excited to get an inside scoop on Maitimo's secret before any of his other brothers. Even his amil and atar had yet to find out.

But then, Makalaure met you in an unsuspecting garden, and a normal day turned into a life-changing event. He knew from the moment he met you that you were special to his brother and why.

You were kind and attentive, complimenting Kano on his tunic and listening intently to his compositions, praising every one of his songs. In Kano's eyes, you were the only one worthy of his brother.

Maitimo was all smiles, a contrast to his usual mid-day scowl. Kano noticed his brother's meticulously brushed and intricately braided hair, as well as the ruby hairpin holding your hair back. The lifted corners of his brother's mouth were enough indication that Maitimo was pleased. Immensely pleased must he add.

Even now, Kano can remember your shocked expression and Maitimo's flustered mumbling when he accidentally called you "nesa" at the end of your first meeting.

It didn't take long before you became Kano's nesa, his first sister-in-law, and the one he felt closest to.

#the silmarillion #tolkein #tolkien elves #noldor elves #feanorians #sons of feanor #maedhros #maedhros x reader #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion headcanons #maglor #nerdanel #tyelkormo #celegorm #makalaure #fluff

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mistahsaumi · 21 days

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Cars AU idea

So i just had this idea pop in my head a few days and i need to get it out before it rots me any further

I was thinking about how despite knowing everyone in Radiator Springs for a few days, Lightning still grew really attached to everyone (Specially Mater, Doc and Sally) and afterwards they're basically his found family for the rest of the franchise, then i thought, what would have happened if he arrived to Radiator Springs earlier than 2006, what if a 13 yr old Montgomery McQueen- was raised by the RS Townies?

So one of my headcanons for Lightning is that his parents weren't the greatest, not abusive but more neglectful, dad was always traveling for work and while his mom was there, she never really gave him the love and care she was supposed to. It's also why i think he's so indulging in the fast life in the first movie is because the whole world loves him and everyone's eyes are on him, but he still desires love and friendships that are more personal rather than just distant admiration.

So one night, Monty just decides to drives away from home, and drives with no sense of direction, just anywhere, and then ends up in Radiator Springs almost the exact way he does in canon, getting chased by Sheriff, knocking everything in sight, he doesn't destroy the road, but he's much more panicked because he's in his adolescence and his flight instincts are so high, and he gets more hurt by the barbed wire because his body isn't as strong yet.

Then after, the townies realize that the car that tore thorough town was just a kid, and start to wonder what could have happened for him to end up here of all places, and they notice that he's hurt. While Sheriff does insist to put him in the impound, he eventually relents and brings the boy to Doc to check on him.

And then from there on, the familial bonding begins, it is a bit rocky at first cause let's be honest if an adult Lightning was a bit hard to connect to, then a growing pains one would probably be just as, if not more difficult, and he wouldn't be all that open initially, but they get to connect regardless. His relationships with the townies would be about the same as in canon, and Mater would have the role more akin to a crazy uncle or elder brother rather than a best friend, but their companionship is all the same, with the exception of Doc and Sally.

Doc wouldn't resent Monty at all because he isn't a racer yet, and would take on the role of a father figure for Monty much earlier, he does have some reservations about his dreams of becoming a PIston Cup racer due to his trauma, but he relents and teaches him after he spots the boy failing the turn at Willy's Butte. During one lesson, Monty lets it slip out about how his dream of racing was the only thing keeping him going and opens up about his past, and in turn Doc opens up about his past as the Fabulous Hudson Hornet as well, and they grow much closer as father and son after.

As for Sally, when they first meet, it'd kinda be how Stanley met Lizzie in Time Travel Mater (Monty sees Sally break down, he along with Mater help to bring her into town, and they form a bond.) initially the roles for both of them are reversed, Monty is kind of the one to show Sally what life outside of the fast lane is like. (It is unclear when Sally first arrived in Radiator Springs, but i'm going to assume she arrived in like 02 or 03,) They would also connect due to their similar pasts, running away from their previous life and ending up here, and eventually they would start dating. The entire town teases Monty for it and make jokes about how he's growing up so fast and how he'll be married eventually, he doesn't''t mind at all. Because he's truly happy

Then when the time comes for Monty to go to the Fast Track Racing Academy, he promises to everyone that when he goes big, he'll find a way to put the town back on the map. When he's at the acadmey, he makes sure to call his family when he can, and tells them all about what's happening. He does still get held back because of The Carl Incident but just like in canon he bounces back quick, and gets the Lightning nickname, and he does all the stuff he does as described in the Cars Origins book.

Halfway through the season after he gets the sponser of Rust-eze, Lightning gets in contact with Doc and he asks if he and his family could be his pit crew, Doc is a little hesistant at first to get back into the Piston Cup scene, but at this point he would do anything for his adopted son so he gets the entire gang minus Lizzie and Red for the races, and they kill it.

Think about it, Lightning without a crew chief and proper race training was still pretty damn skilled, but a Lightning who was trained by the Fabulous Hudson Hornet before he started racing and having him as his crew chief, let's just say the only people on that track that are genuine competition are The King and Chick Hicks. And in this universe, there's no need for a tiebreaker race in LA, because the Motor Speedway Of The South race is the finale as Lightning doesn't mess up by not taking tires, and almost truly becomes the first rookie to win a PIston Cup, if it weren't for Chick deciding to be a dick and crash The King. (Some things never change ig.) And just like in LA, Lightning sacrifices his win to help The King, giving the same It's Just an Empty Cup speech to him, which makes Doc smile all the same.

And from there, on out, the story starts to mold slightly back into what we know, albeit with changes here and there but that's a post for another time. Anyway thank you so much for reading my brainrot ideas if you're still here and i hope you guys enjoy what you read and want to see more, this is mistahsaumi, signing out.

#pixar cars #lightning mcqueen #doc hudson #Mater #sally carrera #Brainrot has been killing me #Seriously how has no one else thought of this before #AU #RS Townies raise Lightning

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scary-grace · 1 month

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Haunting for Beginners (Chapter 3) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Ghosts summoned and bound to the human world have one purpose - haunting - but Tomura's never met a human he could stand long enough to haunt them, and he's pretty sure he never will. When you cross the threshold of his house, you capture his interest, and for the first time, he finds himself with a chance to do what ghosts are meant to do. It's too bad he doesn't know how. Scenes from Love Like Ghosts, through the eyes of the ghost in question. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Tomura never wanted a human, but having one is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Having a human means he’s never bored. There’s always something for him to do or watch or think about – or wait for, because as much as he hates waiting for you to come back, he likes it when you come home. Having a human means he isn’t alone. Having a human means he has something, something no one else can have, something for the other ghosts to be impressed with. They all had places to haunt before they came here. They all have humans. But none of them have a human like you.

Tomura knew you were special – if you weren’t, he wouldn’t have let you stay, let alone picked you – but when he listens in on the other ghosts, he can tell by what they say that you’re something different than the rest. She’s taking this well, the ghost in the orange house says to the only ghost who lives alone. Isn’t that strange?

Something else about having a human – Tomura finally has reasons to use some of his powers. Reasons like the other ghosts insulting his human. He’s thinking about the best way to pay the orange-house ghost back when the other ghost speaks up. Your human took it well, didn’t he?

That’s different. He needed me. It’s quiet for a second, at least among ghosts – the rest of the neighborhood is as stupidly loud as ever. I’ve never seen one who didn’t act the way she does.

How many have you seen?

Enough, the orange-house ghost says, and the other one chuckles. I guess it’s fair. All good things to those who wait.

Tomura wasn’t waiting for a human. He didn’t want a human until he got one. When he looks at it like that, he didn’t have to wait at all.

It’s not just the older ghosts who are impressed with Tomura’s human. The younger ones are talking about you, too. Of course she likes him. She’s his human. She has to.

They don’t have to, the youngest ghost says. Dad didn’t like Papa at first.

I heard he became human before they even talked to each other! The second-youngest ghost’s voice is bright. My humans knew all about me. Didn’t yours know about you?

Toshi knew, the youngest ghost says cautiously. That’s how I knew to save him. You saved your humans. Magne saved her human. Papa saved Dad –

Did all the ghosts have to save their human from something? Is that how they got them? Is that how everybody gets humans? The second-youngest ghost seems to think so, and she sounds just as confused as Tomura is. What did he save his human from?

The coyote, maybe. But did Tomura really save you? Saying he saved you makes it sound like you would have been dead without him, and you wouldn’t have. You’d have gotten hurt, but you’d have one. Tomura helped you. That’s more accurate. He didn’t have to save his human. She picked him, the youngest ghost says. That’s why she’s special.

Not that special, the scar wraith across the street mutters. My human picked me, too.

Tomura doesn’t think it’s the same thing at all, and he’s about to break his rule about talking to other ghosts over it – but then the two younger ghosts argue back. Your human knew about ghosts before he knew about you, the second-youngest says. That doesn’t count.

Why the fuck not?

If it doesn’t count, it doesn’t count. Tomura stops listening. His human is special, and everybody knows it. He helped you, but he didn’t save you, because you didn’t need saving. You could have left his house when you realized it was haunted, and you stayed. That’s all that matters.

At least that’s what Tomura thinks, until the oldest ghost in the neighborhood clues him in on something he hasn’t been paying attention to. Something he should have been paying attention to this whole time, if the way the old ghost says it is anything to go by. Tomura calls you what he’s always called you, what he calls all humans, and the old ghost raises an eyebrow. “It?” he repeats. “Most humans don’t go by ‘it’, friend. That’s a she. Your human’s a woman.”

What? Tomura asks, but he forgets that he’s partially materialized, and it comes out of his mouth, too. “Huh?”

He looks at you – this seems like the kind of thing you’d have told him, if it was important – but you’re averting your eyes, and you look uncomfortable again. You look like that a lot lately. You don’t say anything. Tomura doesn’t have a choice about what to do next. “How can you tell?”

You hate that question. Tomura doesn’t have any trouble telling that, at least, and the old ghost responds in words humans can’t hear. You’ve seen your human naked. If you haven’t noticed the difference, there’s no hope for you.

No, he didn’t notice. He hasn’t seen you naked since before he figured out how to make himself a body. Stop thinking about my human naked. Tell me how.

“You could ask,” the ghost says out loud, and then he ignores Tomura completely, talking to the human who isn’t his but lives in his house anyway. “Are you sure you want to go up there? Spooky McScarface doesn’t look too friendly.”

“I don’t touch other people’s humans,” Tomura says. He doesn’t even touch his own human. The human who’s coming up the front steps looks different from you. Maybe this one is an it, or a he. “What kind are you?”

“I’m a guy,” the human says. Tomura keeps staring at him. If he stares at you long enough, you usually say more. “The opposite of a girl. Not a girl. Most humans are guys or girls. Men or women. I’m a guy. Your human’s a girl.”

It’s all so stupid. “Whatever.”

He doesn’t want to thank the ghost and the human that’s not his for the insects they brought, but you elbow him until he does, and the contact startles him enough that he says it out loud. The human and the former ghost accept the thanks, like they’re the ones doing Tomura a favor, instead of Tomura doing them a favor by letting them live in this neighborhood, and then they leave. You’re pleased with the amount of bugs you got, even though you hate bugs. You don’t seem mad that Tomura’s been calling you an it.

“You’re a girl,” Tomura says, and you nod. Tomura’s a he when he’s a ghost. Maybe he’s different when he’s a human. “What am I?”

“Whatever you want to be, I guess,” you say. “You look like a guy, though. Your voice sounds like a guy’s voice, and you don’t have – um –”

You gesture at your chest. Tomura definitely doesn’t have those. Your face turns red. “Would you rather be a girl?”

“No,” Tomura says, without thinking too hard. “I don’t like girls that much.”

He doesn’t like girls enough to want to be one more than he wants to be a guy, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like girls. The things that are different about your body from his, Tomura likes them. He can’t say why he likes them, and he wouldn’t like them if he had them – but he likes them on you. Now that he knows about the different kinds of humans, a lot of things about the movies the two of you watch make more sense. They make sense, finally, so he can stop caring, finally. Except he doesn’t stop caring. He just cares differently.

You used to pick movies at random, but now that you’re watching with Tomura, he can tell you’re putting a lot more thought into the ones you choose. There are movies with people in them and movies that are just drawings of people. Movies that are supposed to be funny and ones that are supposed to be sad. There are movies about worlds that aren’t this one, with people who aren’t ghosts or humans. There are movies you call action movies – lots of gunfire and car chases and dead humans and plots that don’t make any sense.

Usually Tomura lets it go, but one of the action movies – Mission Impossible something – is so weird that he can’t leave it alone. You pause after Tomura’s asked you for the sixth time what the humans in the movie are trying to find. “It’s called the rabbit’s foot –”

“They said that. What is it?”

“It doesn’t really matter,” you say, and you answer Tomura’s next question before he can ask it. “There are movies where it matters. Those are called mysteries, or suspense, and with those, the filmmakers leave clues. Things that will let you figure out what happened before the movie actually tells you.”

Like a game. “We should watch more of those.”

“Okay,” you say. “It matters in those movies. But in this movie it doesn’t really matter. Looking for the rabbit’s foot – or the nuclear launch codes, or the antivirus, or whatever – the point isn’t the thing. The point is what the thing makes the characters do.”

“Running around and shooting each other and crashing cars.”

“Yeah,” you say. “It exists to move the plot, and that’s kind of it. So it doesn’t matter if we don’t know what it is. The characters don’t know either.”

Weird. Tomura wonders how many other things in the movies you’ve watched have just been there to make the characters do stuff. “Like the ring in the one with the elves.”

“Not like that,” you say hastily. “In that one, we know what the ring is. We know why it’s important, and what will happen if the characters can’t destroy it. The ring itself affects how the story goes. But with this movie, you could swap the rabbit’s foot out for a roll of toilet paper and it wouldn’t make much of a difference.”

Tomura snorts. “Maybe it’s a dog toy,” he says, and you laugh.

It’s not like Tomura’s never heard you laugh before. He’s just never made you laugh all by himself, and he’s not even sure why you’re laughing – except you are laughing, and you aren’t laughing at him. Was what he said really that funny? “A dog toy,” you repeat, your breathing still uneven. “Imagine if it squeaked.”

Now Tomura gets it. Sort of. He should laugh. But he hasn’t tried laughing before, and he doesn’t want to try in front of you in case he gets it wrong the first time. So he doesn’t laugh. But there’s a fluttering feeling in his body, some of it in his chest, some of it in his stomach, and his shoulders and his neck feel tight. Tomura raises one hand and scratches until it goes away. “How do you know this stuff? Did somebody teach it to you?”

“You can take classes about movies, but I never did.” You shrug. “I watch a lot of movies. I guess I just learned.”

So humans learn things the way ghosts do, sometimes. You learned about how movies work the same way Tomura learned how to read. Tomura likes having things in common with his human, even more than he likes having a human who knows things, a human being who even the other ghosts think is special. A human who looks different from him in ways he likes. Why does he like them? It doesn’t matter, just like most “why” questions don’t really matter. Asking stupid questions about their own thoughts and feelings is what always gets humans into trouble, which means everything should be fine as long as he doesn’t do it.

Sometimes it’s hard not to. One afternoon Tomura’s out on the front steps, throwing the ball for Phantom while you’re away at work, when he sees the scar wraith’s human walking by across the street. The scar wraith’s human is a man, just like Tomura is when he’s materialized, and out of all the humans in the neighborhood, he’s the one you spend the most time talking to. Tomura doesn’t like that, which is fine. It stops being fine when he catches himself wondering why it bothers him.

Tomura shoves the thought away. He doesn’t need to know why. Why is stupid.

The scar wraith’s voice crackles out from across the street. It’s not stupid just because you don’t want to think about it, you dumbass.

Did I say you could talk to me? Tomura made the mistake of asking one ghost one question, and now all the others think they get to have an opinion. Shut up.

You’re thinking about my human. I can say what I want.

Sure, but that doesn’t mean Tomura has to listen to it. He intensifies his influence on the scar wraith’s house specifically, hoping to shut the wraith up, and he can practically see the wraith’s essence contorting to avoid it. But even that’s not enough to keep it quiet. My human doesn’t want your human. He wants me. Don’t think about him anymore.

Tomura thinks about the scar wraith’s human even harder, just because he can. It’s a good distraction from the why question. He doesn’t need to know why. Why doesn’t matter.

As soon as he has that thought, the ghost from the top of the street speaks up. Why matters, he says. If I were you, I’d think about it.

Shut up, Tomura says. Phantom brings him the ball and he throws it a little too hard, barely catching it before it can cross the property line and roll out of reach. I didn’t ask you, either.

Tomura hates “why” questions. No matter how many of them he asks, he never gets to an answer, and somewhere in the middle of it all, the itching starts. He can’t even figure out which of the things he wants is causing it. The scar wraith doesn’t know anything, but the ghost at the top of the street is older than Tomura is, and has been stuck in this world a lot longer. Maybe that ghost has a point. And maybe Tomura doesn’t have answer the questions. Maybe he can get you to do it for him.

The first chance comes when you’re picking out a movie for the two of you to watch, and Tomura spots a list of titles on the screen. “Watchlist,” he says aloud, and you look at him. “We should watch one of those.”

“I’m trying to pick stuff you’ll like. Those are just ones I want to see.” You hit the search function, then don’t search anything. “I watch them when we aren’t hanging out.”

“Just because I’m not materialized doesn’t mean I’m not watching.” Tomura wonders if he can press the buttons on the remote without touching it. It turns out that he can, so he navigates to your watchlist and picks a movie at random. “This one.”

“No.”

You responded really fast. It’s weird. “Why not?”

“You wouldn’t like it,” you say. Tomura decides that why questions are fine when he’s asking them to someone else and asks why not again. “There aren’t any disasters. Nobody dies or even really fights. Nothing blows up the whole movie. You’d be really bored.”

“I don’t just like when things blow up,” Tomura says. He feels sort of insulted. “I want to watch this one and so do you.”

You say something under your breath, but you sink back into the couch cushions and press play, which is how Tomura knows he’s won. You’re still acting weird, though. You’re not doing the stuff you usually do when you watch a movie. “Aren’t you going to make popcorn?”

“It’s not really a popcorn movie.”

What does that mean? Any movie can be a popcorn movie if you make popcorn to eat while you watch it. Tomura feels the first inkling of apprehension and shoves it away. He won the argument, and now he’s watching a movie he knows you want to see, which means he wants to see it, too. Everything’s fine.

Tomura loses track of the plot within five minutes of the movie starting, and he’s bored out of his mind five minutes after that. When he gets bored enough, he starts dematerializing whether he wants to or not, so he starts asking you questions to keep himself entertained. You talking to him about stuff is always entertaining, and you have a better idea of what’s going on in this movie than he does. It’s about a human family who needs money, and the only way they can get it is to marry other humans who have more money, except they’re really bad at convincing other humans to marry them. The more questions Tomura asks, the unhappier you look.

“There’s a version with zombies,” you say. “Maybe we should watch that instead.”

“We can watch that later.” Tomura’s decided he’s bored with one of the human women in the movie – the soft one, the one who got sick from going out in the rain. He’s less bored with the other one. “That guy’s rich. Why doesn’t she like him?”

“Because he’s an asshole,” you say. “I wouldn’t like him, either.”

Tomura’s insides twist. “You don’t need money like they do.”

“I wouldn’t say no to more money,” you say. “But there’s not enough money in the world to make dealing with him like that worth it.”

Tomura doesn’t think the rich human is an asshole. He just tells the truth about things. Tomura does that. Do you think Tomura’s an asshole? If you think Tomura’s an asshole, why are you talking to him? Is that why you didn’t want to watch this movie? Tomura thinks about asking you to turn it off so you can watch the zombie version instead, but that might make him an asshole, just like the human in the movie. Instead he raises his hand and scratches hard at his neck, hoping it’ll make his insides untwist themselves.

It doesn’t, but it’s a different feeling, at least, and if it comes down to it, Tomura prefers the scratching. Phantom likes scratching. It’s not weird for him to like it, too.

The humans with no money are leaving the rich humans’ house in a carriage. The human Tomura isn’t bored with gets into the carriage with the help of the asshole human’s hand, and the movie zooms in on it tightly, like it’s important. And it stays zoomed in on the hand as the asshole human walks away, opening and closing his hand. That must be important, too.

Tomura has a free hand. He opens and closes it, too, seeing if anything happens. It doesn’t, but then again, he didn’t do all the things the asshole human did. Maybe whatever happened only happens if he touches someone else’s hand first.

Tomura glances at you. You’re watching the movie, not looking his way. One of your hands is propping up your chin, your elbow on the armrest of the couch. The other one is folded in your lap, fingers curled. Tomura almost asks why holding hands for two seconds matters so much. If there’s something special about touching a hand, he can’t see it. It’s not like he doesn’t touch things, or know that textures are different sometimes. He pets Phantom all the time, but Phantom’s fur is soft. There’s nothing special about plain human skin.

The movie keeps not making sense, no matter how many why questions Tomura asks you. Even the one thing he thought he had a handle on – the rich human is an asshole – flips completely by the end of the movie. “Wait, she’s marrying him now?”

You shrug. It pisses Tomura off. “I thought he was an asshole. You said you wouldn’t marry him for money even if you want more money.”

“He changed,” you say. “And she was never marrying for money. That’s why she said no to that other guy.”

Tomura remembers that. Still – “What do you mean, he changed?”

“I mean –” The credits music is really loud. You mute it and answer Tomura’s question. “He started thinking about things differently, and acting differently. He stops acting full of himself and like he knows everything and saying mean things without thinking about them. He becomes a better person – and so does she. That’s why she changes her mind.”

“Ghosts can’t change.”

You give Tomura a weird look. “You’re people,” you say. “People change all the time.”

Tomura always thought that people just meant humans. But when you use it, you mean ghosts, too. Can ghosts change? A year ago, Tomura would have laughed at the idea, or done whatever laughter is without a body to express it through, but now he knows better. He’s changed since the first time you set foot in his house. He’s changed because of you. And you must like the changes, or you wouldn’t talk to him, or hang out with him. Ghosts can change. Tomura hates change, most of the time, but maybe there have been a few changes that are good.

Tomura stops picking movies out of your watchlist after that, but every so often, you’ll pick one from it yourself. Tomura always pays extra attention to those movies. He asks a lot of questions, so you know he’s paying attention, and so he can figure out why you like this movie more than others. So far, all he’s been able to do is figure out what you don’t like. You don’t like movies where bad things happen to dogs. Tomura doesn’t like those, either. You used to watch more horror movies than you do now, just like you used to watch more comedies than you do now. Tomura doesn’t understand comedies, so that’s fine with him.

You don’t watch a lot of movies that are just about romance, but no matter what kind of movie you watch, there are always at least a few humans touching each other in it. Tomura’s not good at telling what kind of physical contact is good and what kind is bad. Whenever he guesses out loud, he gets it wrong.

“No,” you say to Tomura, midway through another Twilight movie, which Tomura picked when he found out there were more of them than just the one he watched with you. “That’s not good. He shouldn’t be doing that.”

You spend a lot of time picking on the vampire for doing things that make sense. For some reason you pick on the werewolf less, even though he does all the same things. “Why not? He wants to protect her and she’s being stupid.”

“He’s scaring her,” you say. Tomura blinks. “It’s scary for someone to grab you, or to block you in a corner and not let you leave. People who care about you don’t scare you.”

Tomura still doesn’t see what reason the human has to be scared of the vampire when the actual thing the vampire is trying to protect her from is right there. Maybe she thinks she can protect herself, which makes her even dumber than Tomura thought. She’s not as tough as you. If a coyote got into her yard and the vampire or the werewolf wasn’t there to save her, it would eat her alive. The coyote would have hurt you, but Tomura knows you would have killed it for hurting Phantom, if he hadn’t killed it first. You could handle a coyote, but you’d be useless against vampires or werewolves like the ones in the movie. Just like you’d be useless against Tomura if he ever decided to hurt you.

The idea of hurting you disgusts Tomura, but there’s something else about it that makes his essence crawl. He’d never hurt you, but what if you don’t know that? You might have thanked him for killing the coyote for you, but there were still a few seconds where you were scared. Tomura asks the question, itching exploding through him. “Do I scare you?”

“Right now? No.”

“So you’ve been scared of me before.” Tomura wants you to say no, but you don’t. You get quiet, like you do when you don’t want to answer, and Tomura’s insides contort with frustration and something else. “Why would you be scared of me? I didn’t do anything to you. I helped you –”

“Humans are scared of things we don’t understand,” you say. You’re explaining, but it’s not making Tomura feel any better. He scratches his neck, lightly, then harder. “It’s normal.”

“The others say their humans weren’t ever scared of them.”

Tomura’s lying. He knows they all scared their humans, or at least they scared some humans, somewhere. Scaring humans is what ghosts are supposed to do. “Their humans were kids,” you say. “I’m not.”

What does how old you are have to do with anything? “How do I make you – not?”

“You can’t make me do anything,” you say. Tomura rolls his eyes. “Don’t do that. You asked.”

“And you didn’t answer,” Tomura says. He’s getting angry, or at least it feels like he’s angry if he doesn’t ask himself why it feels that way. “How do I make you stop being scared of me?”

“You can’t.”

Something inside Tomura lurches, then falls. You’re still talking, but he doesn’t want to hear it. Or maybe he can’t hear it. You’re scared of him. You’re always going to be scared of him, and it doesn’t matter what he does, because you don’t understand him and humans are always scared of things they don’t understand. Tomura dematerializes, but he still can’t get away. It feels like there’s a hole in his essence, and it hurts. You made him hurt like this. He hates you. If he’s hurting, you should be, too.

But Tomura doesn’t know how to make you hurt the way he’s hurting. All he knows how to do is injure you, kill you, and he won’t hurt you like that. He can’t hurt you like that. But he can’t let you get away with hurting him. You’re scared even when Tomura’s done nothing to frighten you? Fine. He’ll give you something to be scared of.

Tomura never really learned how to haunt things, but the horror movies he watched with you gave him plenty of ideas for how to do it. The only problem is that you wouldn’t have watched all those movies alone in Tomura’s house if you were easy to scare – and you know all the tricks Tomura can think to play. With every second that passes without you looking even slightly scared, Tomura’s frustration grows. You can’t say you’re scared of him and then do nothing when he’s scaring you on purpose. If this doesn’t scare you, what the hell are you even scared of? The only time Tomura gets anything close to a reaction out of you, you’re more annoyed than anything else. “You suck at haunting things.”

Tomura stops shaking the leg of your bed. “Maybe you just suck at being haunted.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” You sound tired. “I didn’t ask for this. You did.”

What? Tomura shakes your bed by one of its legs again, then draws in on himself. He’s materialized again. It doesn’t change how he feels, but at least this way he can curl up and scratch at the same time. He tries to figure out what you mean. He asked to be here? Whatever you meant, you’re wrong. “No, I didn’t.��

“Don’t lie. I know how this works,” you say. You don’t know anything. Tomura should tell you that, but now he’s tired, too. “A ghost as strong as you –”

Tomura likes when you say he’s strong. Sometimes it fixes how he feels, but not this time. “I wasn’t always strong,” he says. He keeps scratching. “I didn’t want to come here. Master made me. I couldn’t get back.”

It’s quiet. Tomura wonders if you’ve fallen asleep, but your breathing isn’t right for it, and it’s not long before you speak up again. “I don’t understand.”

Tomura spent months wanting you to talk to him. Why does everything you say right now make him feel worse? “So I bet you’re extra scared now.”

The bedsprings creak as you rise, and for a moment, the hole in Tomura’s essence tears open even wider, thinking he’s right, thinking he’s scared you off for good. But then you’re right there, sprawled out on the floor and peering under the bed. Tomura stares back at you, scratching, and your expression shifts into one he hasn’t seen before. “Hey, don’t do that,” you say, and Tomura averts his eyes. “It looks like it hurts.”

“Things don’t hurt.” Tomura doesn’t feel bad for lying to you. He hurts, but not from the scratching. “There’s feelings or not-feelings. I don’t care either way.”

“If you don’t care either way, then stop,” you say. Tomura scoffs, and when he glances your way again, he sees your eyes narrow, your features settling into that same stupid determination he saw when you came back to deal with the hornets’ nest carrying a garbage can and wearing five extra layers of clothes. “I’ll prove it’s different. Hold your hand out.”

You think you’re going to trick him into not scratching. Did you forget that human bodies have two hands? Tomura holds out the one he isn’t using to scratch and both of your hands fold around it. You aren’t touching his hand. You’re holding it.

Tomura forgets about scratching in an instant. Who needs scratching, anyway? Not him, not when he has this. Your hands are warm, like the rest of you must be warm, and the need to press his face into it, bury himself in it, is so strong that he can barely hold still. The itch that kicks up is in a spot he can’t scratch, but right now he doesn’t mind too much. As long as at least some part of him is warm, he doesn’t need to worry about it. He thinks about the movie the two of you watched that he didn’t understand, one human’s hand opening and closing after letting go of the other human. Now Tomura gets what it’s about. Who would ever want to let go?

But he doesn’t want to just give up, not after you hurt him. “It only feels different because your hands aren’t moving.”

“You want me to move my hands?” You look even more determined than before, and Tomura gets a weird hit of nerves. “Fine.”

You turn his hand between yours, palm up, and let go with one hand. It’s back before Tomura can complain about its absence, but not in the same way. Your fingertips come down on the palm of his hand and run lightly over it, so lightly that Tomura can barely feel your touch. Except he can – you’re still holding his hand with the other one, holding his hand still while you touch him, like you want to make sure he doesn’t pull away.

You spend a few seconds tracing over Tomura’s palm, then move to brushing down along his fingers, one at a time. But something’s wrong. Something must be wrong, because Tomura swears he can feel your touch in places your hands haven’t come close to. Places your hands couldn’t come close to. How can you be touching him in so many places at once? Why does it feel like his body is twisting, pulling tight, even though he hasn’t moved at all? What’s happening to him?

You line your hand up with his, fingertip to fingertip, palm to palm. The heart Tomura doesn’t need is hammering in his chest as you linger there for a moment, then drag your fingers slowly down the length of his. Tomura feels that in places he’s never felt anything, and it goes from unusual to unbearable so fast that there’s nothing he can do to get away except dematerialize. But dematerializing doesn’t work. The feeling comes with him, tying up his essence, and no matter how Tomura twists or contorts, scatters his essence or draws it in, he can’t shake the feeling off.

He materializes again, sitting down on your bed because it’s there. The feeling is there, too. Worse, too. Tomura claws briefly at his neck, but it doesn’t help. Then he clamps his hands down over his face, which doesn’t help, either, except that it hides whatever his face is doing as you climb back onto the bed. “What was that?” Tomura demands. “Why did you do that?”

“I was proving a point,” you say. You look weird. Like you think Tomura’s weird, like you didn’t do this to him on purpose. Like the whole thing isn’t your fault. “Get off my bed.”

“Never do that again.” Tomura’s whole body is out of his control now. His heart is beating too fast and his breathing isn’t right and he can still feel you, feel the light brush of your fingers in places you touched and places you didn’t. “Never! I don’t want to feel like this!”

“Like what?” you ask, but Tomura’s stores of life-force give out before he can answer you, before he can ask why you decided to torture him, before he can tell you how he’s feeling and order you to make it go away. He vanishes, scattering his essence even though it won’t do anything, and somehow still feels your voice reverberate through him. “Fine. You started this. Don’t play your stupid games with me anymore.”

You did this. This is your fault. Tomura can’t do anything more than make the lights flicker, on and then off again. You roll your eyes. Then you get back into bed, roll over, and fall asleep.

How can you fall asleep? Tomura feels another surge of frustration and dives into it, amplifies it, hoping it’ll be enough to drown out everything else. Of course it isn’t. Now Tomura is frustrated on top of the other thing, whatever it is. Frustrated, something else, and maybe starting to panic. How long is he going to have to stay like this? What if it doesn’t go away?

In the morning, you leave for work, and with the house to himself, Tomura tries everything he can think of to solve the problem. Everything he can think of is just harassing the other ghosts to bring him more bugs, so he can materialize and dematerialize over and over again, hoping that this time the feeling will go away. Whatever’s going on with him is affecting the rest of the ghosts, too. Two of them actually leave the neighborhood to get away. It’s terrible, he hears the ghost from the orange house say to the oldest ghost in the neighborhood. We’ll come back when he comes to.

So they can leave and get away from it, but Tomura can’t? Is Tomura going to have to destroy his own house to make it stop? You’re stupid, the scar wraith says. You’ve got a human. She can fix it when she gets home.

You don’t even know you caused it. Tomura’s pretty sure you wouldn’t have, if you’d known. You care about whether he’s comfortable, or you wouldn’t have told him not to scratch and tried to make him see that it hurt – and caused the whole problem in the first place. It’s your fault. Tomura’s mad at you – and then he’s not – and then he’s mad at you again – and then he’s not. He’s changed his mind about having a human. Having a human sucks.

When you come home, you don’t come inside the house right away. You talk to the old ghost for a little while, using a bunch of words Tomura doesn’t understand, and then, instead of coming home like you’re supposed to, you put Phantom on her leash and go across the street to ask the scar wraith’s human to take a walk with you. The scar wraith hates that, just as much as Tomura hates it. This is your fault, he snaps at Tomura. If you weren’t such a goddamn virgin –

Tomura doesn’t even know what a virgin is. Shut up, he snarls back. It’s not my fault that your human likes me better than it likes you.

Tomura hears glass shattering across the street as the scar wraith loses his temper. Nice work, genius, the old ghost says distantly. I’m taking the little ones to the mall. You had better be done with this by the time I get back.

Since when do you tell me what to do? Tomura barely avoids cracking a window in his own house. The old ghost’s presence is already fading from the neighborhood, leaving just Tomura and the scar wraith – and you and Phantom and the scar wraith’s human, coming back from wherever you went.

That’s a relief, and at the same time it’s not a relief at all, because Tomura’s essence ties itself in an even tighter knot the instant you set foot on the porch. He knows now. He knows how warm you are. He knows what it feels like when you touch him, and he wants it and doesn’t want it and wants it again – but not if this feeling is the price.

Tomura hovers as you take off your shoes and let Phantom off her leash. You pour some fresh water into her bowl and give her a treat, all without saying a word to Tomura. You don’t talk to him until you’re in your bedroom with the door shut. “I know how to fix your problem.”

“What problem? I don’t have a problem.” The stupid lie leaves Tomura’s mouth before he can think about it. He doesn’t want you to know what you did to him. Doesn’t want you to know what he’s spent all day doing, thinking about. “You have a problem. You hung out with that guy across the street –”

“Because I needed help with you,” you say. “I figured out a solution to your problem. So you won’t feel the way you’re feeling anymore. I know it’s uncomfortable.”

“No, you don’t.” If you knew, you wouldn’t have done it. “Humans don’t feel like this.”

You laugh quietly. “Humans feel like this all the time, Tomura,” you say. Even when he’s mad at you, Tomura still likes hearing you say his name. “Half the dumb decisions people make in movies are because they feel like this.”

But they must not feel like it all the time. There must be something to do about it, or they’d never do anything but exactly what Tomura’s been doing since last night. “How do I fix it?”

“You have to materialize all the way,” you say. “Then you have to touch yourself.”

“What do you mean, touch myself? You said I wasn’t supposed to scratch.”

“Not there,” you say. Tomura can’t figure out why you’re in your room right now. He wishes you’d come out, or else that he didn’t care so much about breaking your weird rules. “You know where that feeling is? The one you don’t like? You have to touch yourself there to make it go away.”

Touching is what got Tomura in this mess in the first place. Now he’s supposed to do it more? “Why?”

“It’s –” You stop talking in the middle of a sentence. “You’ll figure it out once you try it. Go in the bathroom and shut the door.”

“Why do I have to go in there?”

“Privacy.”

Why does Tomura need privacy? You’re in your room – you won’t be able to see anything. Tomura thinks about saying no. Not doing anything or going anywhere until you come out of your room and explain all the way. Something weird is going on. You’ve never hidden from Tomura before. But you’re helping him, like the other ghosts said you would. Maybe Tomura should stop asking questions and see if it actually helps to do what you said.

He materializes in the upstairs hallway, then makes his way to the bathroom and shuts the door. You said he’s supposed to touch himself where the feeling is. The feeling’s everywhere. But there’s a place where it’s worst. Tomura glances downward at the bulge between his legs. His cock. He knows what a cock is. Why didn’t you just tell him to touch his cock instead of being weird? Tomura flattens his hand against his stomach, then slides it down until he’s palming himself through his pants. Nothing.

“This is stupid,” he says out loud. He’s touching himself, and it’s not helping – but then he remembers last night. Things didn’t get bad until you started to move your hands. “I’m doing it. It feels –”

The movement is what does it. Tomura’s body jolts. “Weird,” he says, forcing the word out through suddenly gritted teeth, as parts of his body he’s not even touching tense up. Why did you tell him to do this? It’s making it worse.

“You don’t have to narrate,” you say, your voice drifting through the upper floor of the house. “You deserve privacy. I’m giving you privacy. I can leave the house –”

“No, don’t.” Tomura cuts you off mid-sentence. His pants have gone from too snug to uncomfortably tight, and he’s trying to unbutton them left-handed. His right hand is practically glued to his groin, rubbing back and forth over his cock. “This was your idea.”

He gets his pants unbuttoned, pulls them down. “Don’t you want to –”

Know if it works is what Tomura was going to say. Instead the air leaves his lungs in a sharp burst as his fingers brush over his bare cock. His hips jerk forward, increasing the contact, and Tomura yanks his hand away, just like he yanked his hand away from you last night. But then his hand comes back like something’s pulling it in, mimicking your light touches along the length of his cock. It makes everything worse, all at once. And it’s better, too. As long as he doesn’t stop.

“What is this?” Tomura demands of you. He knows you can hear him, but you don’t answer, and before he can finish asking you why you aren’t answering, he increases the pressure of his fingers against his cock and loses interest in what he was trying to say.

Touching his cock does things to the rest of him, too. His heart is beating faster. His face feels hot, so hot that even your skin would probably feel cool, and wetness is building up under his arms, along his back, on his chest. A different kind of wetness is oozing from the tip of his cock. Tomura swipes his thumb through it, and the resulting pressure against his tip tightens his vocal cords and forces air through them. He’s making sounds now. Have you ever made those sounds? Tomura thinks yes, maybe – but then he wraps his fingers around his cock for a single stroke and his mind goes blank, empty of everything but the need for more.

He can’t say if he likes this. It feels too much for him to like it. His legs are shaking as he leans forward, one hand on the counter for balance, the other frantically stroking his cock. Tomura’s doing it wrong. He has to be doing it wrong, because it’s not helping. It gives him different feelings, better feelings, but none of the feelings go away, and he keeps having to stop when it feels too much. Tomura knows you’re still here, and he calls out to you, needing you to answer this time. “I can’t –” he struggles to get the words out around the feeling, around the sounds. “I can’t – stop. How does it stop?”

“You’ll know,” you say. Your voice runs through Tomura, slow and soft, nothing like the sharp jerks of his hips and movements of his hands. “Just keep going.”

He can’t keep going. He can’t – “Keep talking,” Tomura orders. His breathing is really messed up. If he actually needed air, he’d be in trouble. “Is this –”

“How it’s supposed to feel?” you ask, finishing Tomura’s sentence for him after some noise wrenches itself out of his throat and cuts him off. “Like you’re going to fall apart, but it feels so good you don’t care?”

It feels better when you’re talking. “Yeah.” Tomura goes back to touching himself, trying to hang onto the feeling your voice gives him. “Ah –”

“Like that,” you say. Tomura moves his hand faster, tightens his grip ever so slightly, and you respond like you know what he’s doing, like you can see. “Exactly like that, Tomura. Don’t stop.”

No way is he going to stop now. Tomura keeps touching himself, the same way as before, tracing his thumb over his tip – but that’s a mistake. It’s too much. He can’t take it without you. “Say something,” he gasps, but you’re quiet. “Come on. I need you. Don’t leave me. Please –”

“I’m here,” you say, and Tomura moans as your voice wraps around him. “You’re doing great. You’re almost done, aren’t you?”

How do you know that? You can’t see him, so you can’t – but Tomura wants to believe you, needs to believe you, and you’re still talking. “You know what you like by now,” you continue. Tomura steels himself and swipes his thumb over the tip of his cock on his next stroke, and the next, and the next. “Do that, and keep doing it. Don’t stop until –”

Tomura does what you told him to do, and his entire body goes tense, forcing another sound out of him. Everything feels hot and full and aching, except for where he’s touching himself, except for his hand around his cock and the sound of your voice in his ears. Your voice feels so good when he’s doing this. It doesn’t feel good without it. How much better would it feel if you –

The idea of you here, in the same room with him, looking at him, is too much for Tomura to handle. Too much in the good way, the way that wipes out the feelings that have been twisting him up and replaces them with something Tomura doesn’t have a word for yet. Good isn’t enough. Content, maybe, but a thousand times stronger. His hips thrust against his hand and more of the wet, sticky substance spills from the tip of his cock, and his entire body begins to relax by degrees. It occurs to him distantly that this is the kind of thing humans spend half the movies chasing after. Pleasure.

Relaxing like this would feel good if he had the life-force for it, but he’s burned through way too much, and relaxing right now means dematerializing. He’s dematerializing, but the stuff that came out of his cock is on the bathroom counter and the floor, and it’s not going anywhere. “There’s a mess in here.”

“I’ll clean it later.” You’re downstairs. When did you go downstairs? “Since it’s my fault.”

It’s fine that you’re downstairs. Now Tomura doesn’t have to break the rule about going in your room. He dematerializes completely and drifts down the stairs, enjoying the way his essence untangles itself. You’re standing in the kitchen, looking out the window into the yard. For a second, Tomura’s worried that getting close to you will make it start all over again. He decides it doesn’t matter if it will or not and wraps himself around you. You’re warm.

And he has questions. “Do I have to do that every time?”

“There’s not going to be another time,” you say. “It’s my fault for touching you like that last night, and you told me not to do it again. So we’re good.”

“It felt good,” Tomura agrees. He’s not mad at you anymore. It would be hard to be mad at anything right now. “It only felt bad because I didn’t know what to do. Now I know.”

“I’m still not touching you like that again,” you say. Why are you so stuck on this? Tomura didn’t – “You said no. I can’t ask you to respect my boundaries when I don’t respect yours.”

Tomura did say that. And he likes that you follow the same rules you make him follow. That makes it easy to fix. “What if I take it back?” he asks, and your shoulders stiffen. “What if I want you to touch me?”

He shouldn’t say it like it’s a question. It’s not a question. Tomura takes it back. Tomura wants you to touch him – his hands, his hips, his shoulders, anywhere you want. He wants you to touch him anywhere, and then he wants you to talk to him while he touches himself, just like you did this time. Tomura wants –

“Then it starts being about what I want,” you say, and Tomura keys in. You’re his human. What you want is important, too. “And I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to.” Tomura wasn’t expecting that, and as he tries to get it straight in his head, he realizes something awful. What you want isn’t just important, it’s all that’s important. He can’t make you touch him. He wouldn’t want to make you touch him. He wants you to want to touch him, the same way he wants you to. The same way he might want to touch you, although he doesn’t have a clue where to start. Maybe that doesn’t matter. Tomura wants you to touch him. Tomura wants, end sentence. He hadn’t thought at all about whether you want him.

And you don’t want him. Why would you want him? You’re scared of him. He scares you, no matter what he does or doesn’t do. You didn’t mean to do this to Tomura – you only did it to prove a point. You proved that some touches feel better than others. And you proved that as bad as scaring you feels, hearing you say you don’t want him feels even worse.

Tomura pulls away from you, splits his essence apart, scattering to the corners of his property. He tells himself it helps. “I didn’t say I wanted it,” he says, because he didn’t. “Like I’d ever want you to touch me.”

He gets one look at your face before he scatters entirely. You don’t look like he thought you would, not pissed off or scared. Your face is flushed and your shoulders are slumped and you look unhappy. You look the way Tomura feels – a little piece of what he feels – and for a second Tomura draws close again, hoping. Wanting. Then you squeeze your eyes shut, shake your head. “Fine.”

Fine. Tomura leaves, keeping as far from you as possible, wishing none of this had happened. Wishing he didn’t care what you thought or what you wanted. Wishing he could make you leave, knowing it’s way too late. In a hundred and ten years of existence in the world-that-is, having a human is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura #reader insert #x reader #ghost story

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munson-blurbs · 2 years

Note

HEY HEY HEY

How about Wayne at Eddie’s funeral and reader shows up because she was a classmate and secretly loved him

Oh, you wanted sad? I'll give you sad. Enjoy your cry!

Warnings: S4 is canon, told in third person, mentions of death/funeral

WC: 1.3k

Wayne didn't realize who she was at first, when she walked in to the garden in her black dress and makeup already slightly smudged from tears shed on the way to Eddie's funeral. It wasn't until he overheard one of Eddie's friends--one of the younger boys; a curly-haired kid named Dustin--whisper to another one, "Told ya she'd show up."

And then Wayne knew.

He watched as she made her way over to him, hand trembling as she reached out to him. "Mr. Munson?" she croaked, voice breaking.

"'S me," he replies, fumbling with the unlit cigarette between his fingers.

"I'm, um, I'm a friend of Eddie's?" She says this like a question, like she's unsure. "We had world history together this year, and he sat next to me."

Her crystal blue eyes are glassy, and Wayne has to stop himself from wiping the tears from her cheeks. "He was...he was such a kind person," she starts, casting her gaze down at the grass. "He probably never told you this, but one time, right before class started, Jason Carver stuck gum to the back of my shirt, and Eddie..."

"It is you," Wayne muses. "You're the one Eddie gave his shirt to."

She nods. "Literally took it right off in the middle of the classroom and handed it to me so I could change in the bathroom. He walked around the rest of the day with nothing under his jean jacket." She gives a small smile at the memory.

"He was a really special boy," Wayne agrees. "Wish everyone else could see that."

"I have the shirt," she blurts out, almost involuntarily. "He told me to keep it when I tried to return it, but I figured you'd might w-want it back." She reaches into her bag and pulls out a worn Metallica t-shirt, hems frayed.

Wayne wants to take it, bury his face in it and inhale any remaining trace of his nephew, but he refrains. "If Eddie wanted you to keep it, then you should," he says finally. "I have plenty of his shirts back home." Though it doesn't feel like a home anymore, not without Eddie there playing his axe too loudly or headbanging along with the radio or giving his uncle a play-by-play of his latest D&D campaign with his mouth full of pizza.

"Thank you," her voice is barely above a whisper, and she can't hold back from enveloping the man in a hug. He was never one for physical touch, usually opting for a nod of the head rather than a handshake, but he allows himself to fall into her embrace, placing a calloused hand on her back before hugging her tighter.

He pulls back and clears his throat. "There's...there's something that I oughta show you," he admits. "'F you wouldn't mind coming back to the trailer after the service."

She nods in agreement, squeezing his hand before taking her seat amongst the smattering of other mourners. There aren't a lot; Eddie was an outcast at best and a (falsely accused) murderer at worst, but there were more people than Wayne had anticipated. He felt a pang of warmth in his chest each time someone showed up.

People loved you, Eddie, he thinks. You were so goddamn loved.

She finds Wayne as soon as the service concludes, and he motions to his truck. The ride to the trailer is silent but not uncomfortable; just the two of you silently remembering the boy who died a hero.

Wayne leads her straight to Eddie's bedroom. He grabs a cardboard box out of a dresser drawer, clothes haphazardly strewn around it. It's filled with notebooks and looseleaf papers covered in pencil markings, doodles of dragons and elves along the margins.

"Where is it..." he mutters as he rifles through the box. His tongue pokes out of his mouth slightly, just like Eddie's did. When he spots the paper, he snatches it with a victorious grin.

"He wrote this for you," Wayne tells her, tears threatening to spill over his lash line as he thinks back on the memory.

"It's finished, and it's perfect!" Eddie exclaims, flinging open the door to his room. He slams the paper on the snack table in front of his uncle, smiling so wide his cheeks start to ache.

Wayne looks over the lyrics and feels a grin tug at his lips, too. "This for that girl in your history class? The one you keep chewin' my ear off about?"

Eddie nods. "That's the one!" He paces around the room, chewing on a fingernail. "Now I just need to ask her to come to a gig so I can play it for her." He looks at Wayne nervously. "What do I say?"

"He was gonna invite you to a Corroded Coffin show after spring break," Wayne tells the girl now. "I'm sorry that he never got the chance."

Her eyes flit over the lyrics, soaking in Eddie's scratchy handwriting:

Blue eyes cryin' And I'll keep tryin' To stop them from cryin' again

She couldn't be sweeter And I would treat her Like the diamond in the rough that she is

I'd give her my heart if it meant that she'd smile And I'd do it again to hold her for awhile There'd be nothin' more divine Than knowing she is mine

So I'm done with pretendin' Want my happy endin' I'm tearing off my disguise

You and me 'gainst the world Let me call you my girl Just show me those pretty blue eyes

She's stunned into silence. "This was for me?" she asks unbelievingly. "He felt this way about me?"

"Oh, yes," Wayne offers a small chuckle. "He was head over heels for ya, darlin'."

"This is going to sound so stupid, because we weren't even dating or anything," she mumbles, forcing herself to look at Wayne, "but I loved him. I swear to you, I loved Eddie so much."

Wayne swallows the lump in his throat, lips quivering. "He loved you, too. Every day he came home, telling me somethin' about you. How you let him borrow your notes, or if you so much as laughed at a joke he told. There was one time where you pulled a little piece of dust from his hair, and the boy talked about it like you were the second coming of Christ."

"Well, I couldn't let him walk around all day with lint in those curls!" She relaxes slightly when she sees Wayne smile.

"And, well, pardon me if this is too forward," he says, "but your eyes; he wouldn't shut up about them! At one point I forgot your name for a bit because I just used to tease him and ask, 'how was Blue Eyes today?'."

She chews on her lower lip before speaking. "I never knew he liked them. Never knew he liked me." She looks up at Wayne. "What might've been, huh?"

Wayne just nods; there's nothing to be said. "You, uh, you keep that song. Keep it with the shirt," he instructs her. "And you read it anytime you start to forget how much he cared about you."

"I'll do that," she promises him, starting for the door. "Thank you."

"And if you see me around town, don't be a stranger. He might not be here anymore, but he'll always be in here," Wayne points to his heart, and she feels herself instinctively doing the same. "When keeping him in there gets to be too much, you come find me."

"Of course." She pulls him in for another hug, this one lasting even longer than the first.

Wayne watches forlornly as she closes the door behind her. He waits until she's far enough away before he speaks again.

"Hang in there, Blue Eyes."

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #angst #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

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octoberautumnbox · 21 days

Note

hello kuya box, just wanted to pop in and ask how you're doing :) I've been (im)patiently waiting for yuri comeback news so I can finally get into her more :<)

Fluffy question for you:

Imagine you and Yuri are in school together. You're both in the same friend group and you've had a secret crush on her for years now. While you're hanging out with your friends, you suddenly find yourself alone with her. Despite your anxiety, the moment just feels right - how would you confess to her?

have a yuri :)

hi 0cta9on! everyone and their moms on the edge of their seats for that cb i get it GJKSHFJKDHSGKJSFHJK but we gotta let her cook!! :DDDD

also i keep getting requests and ideas for this general plot LMAO i'll get to that draft eventually! in the meantime please enjoy this short thingy ehe

~~~

It's been about forty minutes now, and nearly everyone is rolling around in the grass of the Sunken Garden. The admin should be kicking people out right now, but for some reason, nobody hears your friends' racket, allowing you free reign for as long as nobody comes near enough. It's strange that you have the free real estate all to yourself, but you're not one to complain. Finals were tough on everybody, and by the looks of it, you and your friends most of all.

Hanbin and Jeongin are locked in a verbal argument, threatening to turn physical soon. Somi yaps on with Chaeryeong off to the side, spilling their drinks on the soil and forming puddles of intoxicating mud in the ground. And finally, Ryujin lies face down in the grass, true to character, and the sheer fact that it's Ryujin silences any alarms that she might be in danger that would have otherwise started blaring in your head.

All that's left is you and Yuri, sitting on a nearby tree root, watching the scenes unfold by the light of a streetlamp infested with moths. She eyes each one lazily, from the fight, to the gossip, to Ryujin who is most probably not dead, as she sips beer from her bottle and punctuates the swig with a relief-filled "ahhh."

Her beauty is mesmerizing, from her half-lidded eyes, to the way her hair perfectly frames her face, to how her lips curl with each sip she takes of her drink. It's nothing like anyone has ever seen before, or, at least not the way you've seen her. It doesn't help that the moon, full as can be, shines its borrowed light as if only on her, like a spotlight to the main character of a soap opera.

It must be the alcohol; it must be. There's not a single reason in the world that you feel the way you feel right now. Never mind that it's bad tonight, never mind that she's so pretty, never mind that this is the first chance you've ever had alone with her, never mind that it might also be the last...

Your heart pounds nearly as hard as your head throbs in search of water. Everything is wrong, and there's only one way to make it right. Lie to yourself, "it's only the alcohol, it's only the alcohol..." Kick yourself mentally: you know it's not.

"Yuri," you say tentatively. Part of you wishes she'd heard and would turn your way, the rest of you prays she didn't.

"Yeah?" Look over to her, find her gaze still glued to the various comical sights in front of the both of you. She smiles at her friends' antics, and she smiles to you. Your eyes make contact, and you swear you've never felt more honest — honest and vulnerable.

"It's only the alcohol, it's only the alcohol..." It repeats like a broken record in your head. You try your damnedest to convince yourself it's only the alcohol, that she's just that pretty tonight, that she's just that pretty every night the past ten years you've known her. This isn't anything special. This is just plain old Yuri. Nothing more, nothing less.

Just Yuri.

"N-nothing. Nice night out, huh?" You realize you're staring, and you avoid her eyes. Take a panicked sip of your own beer, but, fuck, did you make it look not-panicked?

"Yeah, it is. Really is." Yuri places her head on your shoulder and sighs all the air out her lungs. Her eyes flutter shut as she fills her lungs again with a crisp night breeze. By accident, you swear by accident, the fragrance of her hair enters your nostrils, and you take in the comfort of her being plainly close to you.

And just like that, you fail again. Your feelings stay tightly locked in a box, buried deep in the recesses of your heart. Who knows when they'll surface, or if they ever will.

Fuck it. This is enough. More than, even. This is Yuri.

Just Yuri. Nothing more. Nothing less.

#jo yuri #jo yuri fluff #kpop fluff #girl group fluff #izone fluff

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beanghostprincess · 4 months

Note

it is i again... strawhats/revolutionaries enjoyer (sabosan/koanami)

im just thinking about oblivious sanji and koala vs struggling sabo and nami

sanji is oblivious because well. he doesnt recognize when someone is attracted to him... and koala is oblivious because shes not 100% sure if nami likes her that way (despite being painfully obvious) (im sure koala would def know but i jsut think it's a little bit funny)

like sabo and nami writing the most romantic letters Ever to their crushes and then sanji's like "? this is from luffy's brother but for who?" (WHO ELSE DOES SABO TALK TO MOST ASIDE FROM LUFFY !!!) and koala just reads nami's letter and goes "aw this is sweet. im sure the receiver is going to appreciate this :]"

(also alternatively, oblivious nami so sabo and koala are Both struggling...) oblivious nami is her not being sure if koala even likes girls so when koala is romantic with her shes just like "??? does she mean this in a friendly way? what does she mean by this?"

Hello, my beloved Sabosan/Koanami enjoyer, may I interest you with my very very normal and not insane feelings about this idea? 🙏🏻 (I am not normal. Nor sane).

Sanji is oblivious because his self-esteem rests at the bottom of the fucking ocean and the guy can't fathom the concept of somebody liking him, even less being in love with him. He goes around the world giving love but the second somebody else returns it he's like "huh, this is nice. I wonder if this feeling has a name. I am sure they're just this nice to everybody else and it has nothing to do with their perception of me". So, yeah, trying to flirt with Sanji is... Hard. On the other hand, Koala is oblivious because, even if she accepts the possibility of Nami liking her back, she doesn't know if it's love or just a short-term crush. They're always joking about Nami having a lot of girlfriends, so for Koala, who probably has only thought about one person besides Nami romantically, it's a bit weird to guess if Nami truly has strong feelings for her.

So this makes Sabo and Nami go absolutely insane trying to find ways to make the other two realize they're in love with them. Without saying it out loud either because despite being in love and often reckless with these things... They don't want to jump to conclusions. They want to court them, or something like that. Sabo is a writer, and we all know that, so he comes up with this plan and starts writing letters to Sanji. They're the most romantic, Jane Austen, poetic letters about yearning in the whole universe. The thing is-- He doesn't personally give them to Sanji, he just leaves them in the kitchen for him to find, because he's a writer but he's also a moron. And Sanji instantly gets jealous and frustrated and "Who- Who is he talking to except me????" because Sabo isn't even that close to the rest of the crew, tbh. He's always with either Luffy or Sanji and Sanji thought they had something special going on. So it's kind of breaking his heart to find the letters, and if he needs some space between them, Sabo thinks he has fucked up by confessing and Sanji doesn't feel the same. Yay! Miscommunication! Meanwhile, Nami steals the idea like the burglar she is and starts writing letters for Koala too. Unlike Sabo, she actually does give them to her, but Koala genuinely thinks Nami is asking for her opinion?? And it makes her extremely sad, but Koala just goes "Oh! This is great, Nami. I'm sure the girl you're in love with will definitely fall for you now" and Nami wants to jump into the sea and drown.

So now you have Sanji, who's not speaking to Sabo because he feels a bit betrayed and it's hard to be next to him now that he thinks Sabo loves somebody else. And Koala, who tries hard to help Nami with the letters and wants to be next to her even if it's to support her with a crush that makes her terribly sad. And both Sabo and Nami are going through the worst time of their lives.

(And Nami being the oblivious one is also really funny because not knowing if a girl is a sapphic or not and having a "is this platonic or romantic????" crisis happens to every lesbian in the world. I raise you, btw, oblivious Sabo for the same reason because he truly thinks Sanji is girl-crazy only).

#this is amazing your asks are always the best #sabosan and koanami living in my mind rent free forever #sabo and nami bonding over the fact that they're pining idiots #koala and sanji bonding because they think their crushes don't like them back #everybody on the crew being extremely done with them and their telenovela #one piece #black leg sanji #cat burglar nami #revolutionary sabo #koala one piece #sabosan #koanami

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