#and it'd cause a fight or for them to drift

[enviedear]

is it real ⟶ anakin skywalker

description ⌙ it's easier to hate him than it is to be honest in how much you care for him, but anakin makes a mission of making hating him near impossible. pairing ⌙ anakin x fem!reader warnings ⌙ saber graze, tending to a wound, a petty argument, a little angst. word count ⌙ 2.8k

— request | masterlist

totally inspired by this masterpiece of a song that i can't get out of my head. it's so ani coded i had to indulge.

"there's a med-pack by the table." anakin's voice is soft, enough so to distract slightly from the searing pain emitting from the saber graze at your ribs.

"can you, fuck, help?" you barely make it to his bed before your knees give.

at your falter he rushes to you, eyes wide, "c'mere, let me see."

you don't fight him when he rips your tunics off, exposing the large gash at your ribcage. you take in a breath at the sight of it. far larger and worse than you had previously thought.

"obi-wan was right," he grabs for the med-pack before kneeling down to you, "you have to stop trying to fight all on your own."

you want to roll your eyes, you want to smack him upside the head. for as long as you've known the boy, he's had an annoying tendency of fretting over you, acting as though you were delicate.

when you were younger, it was easier for you to accept such behavior. but as the two of you grew, it became far harder to ignore the way his kindness caused your mind to drift toward something utterly wrong. friendship had since turned into acquaintanceship.

it was so much easier this way.

"says you, skywalker." your voice is gritty, watching his mechanic hand begin to clean the wound.

he ignores your irritation, "maybe if you'd let me help you—"

you interrupt him, eyes narrowed, "i'm letting you help right now, aren't i?"

his hand stills for a second before continuing its work, "you know what i mean."

you're not sure you do. in truth, there could be a million things he could mean. you rarely lean on your fellow jedi, especially not anakin. not when being around him makes your heart race faster than a speeder.

you try to avoid him as much as possible. you'd rather eat at a crowded table than with him at his empty one, rather fight a group of enemies alone than beside him, rather keep your thoughts locked away in your own head than divulge them to him.

for as great and divinely chosen as he was in others' eyes, he was a lingering distraction for you. his gaze is etched into your mind, and you find it frightening how much you draw up the vision.

if you're the means, he will always be your end.

"it's not that bad, i've seen you take worse." you try to steady your voice as you speak.

his non-dominant hand finds its way to your bent knee, sending a shock throughout your body, "doesn't mean you have to." you waver slightly at his words, zoning in on the way his lips quirk up at the sentiment.

rolling your eyes, you grab for the bandages and gauze, "i can do the rest myself."

he draws away from you but you can feel him watching you. you can tell he wants to say more— wants to press you further.

you try to ignore the way his presence affects you as you wrap your wound. it's easier that way, to brush him off. maker forbid you ever gave him the notion that you feel the way you do.

if he knew— he'd be on you like ants to honey, all-consuming. anakin was devotional, it was a flaw you enjoyed pointing out to him. you'd mock him for it, calling it the opposite of the jedi way. because it's easier to pick fun at the attribute than to imagine the way it would feel to be at the receiving end of such a trait.

it'd be sacred, surely.

you finish dressing the saber graze and hold tight to the fresh application before grabbing your tunics. it's a painful struggle to put them back on, and you wince at the stretch you have to do to pull them back over your head.

anakin, now leaning against his door, watches you in condemnation, "it wouldn't hurt so much if you just let me help you, y/n."

you make your way toward him, "i'm fine. now, can you let me leave."

he glowers at you, "no."

"what do you mean, no?" your eyes slim.

"i want you to be honest for once," he clenches his jaw before continuing, "i mean, i’m trying to help you, and you act like a brat. what's your problem?"

you stare at him, feeling frustration bubbling up inside you. he is so adept at getting under your skin and making you feel things that are far better left unexplored.

"my problem?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "my problem is that i'm sick and tired of being treated like a child by everyone around here. including you."

anakin's eyes widen in surprise for just a moment before they darken with anger, "i treat you like an equal, you know that." he spits out through gritted teeth.

"you don't!" you exclaim, the dam finally breaking inside of you. "you act like i can't handle anything on my own."

"that's because half the time it seems like-"

"like what?" you interrupt him, taking a step closer despite yourself.

"like…like maybe sometimes," his voice softens as he speaks now—almost pleadingly, "you could use some help."

you take one hand and shove him against the door, fingers digging into his robes, "i don't need your help. i don't need anything from you," you watch him sneer down at you, "and if you want honesty, then the truth is that i'd be far better off without you trailing around me all the time."

he gives an unamused laugh, "you know what i think?"

you don't dignify him with an answer prompting him to go on, "i think you shut down because you're scared," he grabs hold of your wrist, pulling you even closer to him, "i can sense it, you know. every time i see you all that radiates is fear. you're not even strong enough to hide it. what are you so damn afraid of, y/n?”

you pull away from him and shoot daggers before shoving him out of your path and exiting his room.

you rush to your own room, heart thudding in your chest. you attempt to stop yourself from thinking any further on what had just happened. sitting on the edge of your bed, you take deep breaths before burying you face in your hands. he was right—you were scared; scared of opening up and admitting how deeply you've grown to care for him.

he was beautiful, tragically so. and off limits in ways that made your chest feel heavy. you've tried to forget the way he makes you feel for years now. you've tried to tell yourself that what you feel isn't real. it can't be, not when you've sworn an oath against such notions.

yet, he remains a pertinent figure living in the back of your mind. a fantasy you indulge solely in the safety of seclusion.

the evening drags along slowly, and you take note his absence at dinner. his usual seat left empty, causing you to worry for him. it's futile to try and stop the obvious impact he has over you, especially after the fight.

he has a way of sowing himself indelibly to you.

though he remains so obvious in his fruitless kinship for you— you do the contrary. you keep your worries to yourself, and in the times you've been anything other than unemotional to him, you've reacted before thinking more than you care to admit.

you were mean, and even if he'd never know, it did hurt you to act in such a way. especially when all you really want is to see those blue eyes looking down on you with a loving gaze.

you push your food around on your plate, lost in thought, only to have a warm hand on your shoulder.

looking up, you find obi-wan, eyebrows drawn together is deliberation.

you try and push your thoughts away, masking your fears, "yes, master?"

he removes his previous look, replacing it with a soft smile, "y/n, i wanted to make sure you were okay. you took quite a blow today."

you have trouble meeting his eyes, "i'm fine master, just a small cut."

he lets his hand drop, "of course. i hope to see you for meditation tomorrow morning. it just may be of service."

he's gone before you can reply, leaving you alone with your unwanted dinner and thoughts.

hours pass by without you noticing them go. you attempt to train but your practice moves fall short. until, finally, it's late enough that even one of yoda's animated lessons couldn't keep someone from seeking sleep.

you make your way back to your room as fatigue sets in. your senses full of the one thing that refuses to ease its grip over you— anakin.

the exchange with him earlier continues to replay on a loop inside your mind, making it nearly impossible to drift off peacefully. you toss and turn for what feels like hours, restlessly upset.

abruptly, loud knocks echo through your room, interrupting your silent brooding whilst stirring the half slumber you’d found yourself in.

you can sense the familiar force signature, and you know it's anakin pounding away at your door. his energy seems off, less guarded and more haphazard. the feeling of it has you tensing.

nervous, you get out of bed and make your way to the door, still feeling hints of your previous anger and anxiety. you swing it open to find him standing on the other side, breathing heavily as if he had been running.

"what do you want?" you ask, trying your best to keep your voice level.

"i'm sorry," he says simply, not meeting your eyes.

you're taken aback by his apology, not expecting it, "for what?" you ask, confused.

"for the way i've been treating you," he says with a sigh. "i've been so focused on keeping you safe that i haven't been treating you like the equal that you are. and for what i said earlier… i didn't mean it. i just wanted to get a rise out of you."

you stare at him for a moment, trying to process his words. anakin has never been one to apologize easily, and you can sense that this is challenging for him.

slowly, you start to soften towards him, "come in." you say finally, and step aside to let him into your room.

he steps in and closes the door behind him, turning to face you. "i know we fight more often than we get along," he says tentatively. "but i don't want to lose you completely. i miss you. we used to be so... different."

you feel a lump in your throat at his words. despite everything that had happened with him, you know deep down that you don’t want to lose him either. but something is still stopping you from stating your full truth.

"well things are different now," you admit quietly. "we're different."

anakin looks at you, his eyes searching your face for meaning while his mouth forms a thin line. "why?" he asks finally.

you try to find the words but all that comes out is an half-baked excuse, "because that's just what happens, anakin."

"it doesn’t have to…" anakin presses gently and takes a step closer towards you. the heat from him fills up the room making it difficult to think straight let alone answer him honestly. you look away trying to avoid eye contact. with each second that passes by, your denial seems more insufferable.

he seems to notice this and steps even closer so now only inches are between the two of you before asking, "is it because…" his voice catches as he leans in “is it because you can tell how much i care for you. how easily you've become more to me. i tried so hard to hide, y/n, but i can’t anymore.”

you're taken aback by how easily the words leave anakin's lips despite not being able to ever even think of being as honest as him.

but at his admission, something cracks inside of you, allowing you to gain confidence, “no, i never knew you felt—” you falter at the way he's looking you down, face full of anticipation, "i never knew you felt that way. i thought it was only me."

anakin steps even closer, his breath hot against your skin. "never, i've always felt like this," he confesses, his voice low and gravelly. "from the moment i met you. maker, you've had me around your finger for years, i couldn't help but fall for you."

you feel your heart race as his words wash over you, mingled with the warmth of his body so close to yours. you can't deny the attraction that you've always felt— the electricity that seemed to spark whenever your eyes met, the way your skin tingled whenever he brushed past you.

"don't say that, ani," you whisper, feeling a rush, "this isn’t right, it could mean the worst for us, you know that."

anakin takes another step towards you, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek gently. "don't be scared, i’m not," he whispers, his eyes locked on yours. "i'm here for you. whatever happens, you know that."

time seems to still as you lean into his touch, getting lost in the heat of the moment despite yourself. you can feel his words through the softness of his touch.

and then suddenly his lips are on your own— fiercely and passionately. all of your warning thoughts fly out of your head as you surrender into him.

in that moment, there is nothing else but the two of you - lost in each other's embrace and finally free to show all the attachment that's been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

but then as quickly as it came, anakin pulls away and apologizes for the sudden kiss, visibly embarrassed by his impulsivity.

he takes a step back from you in an attempt to put some distance between you while he runs a hand through his hair nervously.

"sorry," he says softly, looking anywhere but your eyes, filled with surprise and confusion.

"i shouldn't have done that." he pauses before continuing in something barely more than a whisper this time, “i just… i'm sorry."

you stand there, still in shock from the sudden kiss but unable to deny the fluttering feeling in your heart. you want to tell him that it's okay, that you feel the same way, but you can't find the words.

anakin seems to read your thoughts, his eyes locking onto yours as he steps back once again. "i know this is a lot to take in," he says, his voice gentle and reassuring. "but i just needed you to know how i feel."

you nod, finally finding your voice. "i…i don't know what to say," you admit, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

for so long you’ve dreaded the idea of anakin knowing how you felt. you’ve been so afraid of rejection, that you’ve never considered the possibility of the inverse happening.

anakin reaches out, taking your hand, sending shivers down your spine with his touch, “you don't have to say anything," he says softly. "just know that i care about you…more than anything."

the two of you stand there for a second longer, lost in each other's eyes and the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

finally, anakin breaks the silence. "i should go," he says reluctantly. "we can talk more about this later if you want…but only if you're ready."

you nod once more, still unsure of what to say or do. as anakin turns to leave, you find yourself calling out to him.

"ani…wait."

he turns back towards you, a hopeful look in his eyes.

"i care about you too, i'm not afraid of it anymore. i just want you." you whisper, feeling a weight lifted off of your shoulders.

anakin looks at you, a mix of shock and pure elation written on his face. he doesn't say anything, he just walks back towards you, taking your face in his hands before pressing his lips onto yours once again.

this time the kiss is even more intense than before, all of the the passion and desire that you've both kept buried for all these years flaring out. your hands make their way to his chest to you pull him closer to you.

anakin deepens the kiss as he wraps his arms around you, tugging you into an embrace that will no doubt carve itself into your very soul. you can feel the beat of his heart against you, matching the pace of your own rapid heartbeats.

when he finally pulls away, gasping for air, you can't stop the smile spreading on your face.

"i've always wanted this," anakin whispers softly, his forehead resting against yours. "i just didn't know how to tell you."

"i'm glad you did," you reply softly, running your fingers through his hair. "i didn't know how to say either."

the two of you stand there for a few moments longer before anakin finally pulls away. "i should go," he says reluctantly. "i'll see you tomorrow?"

you nod, feeling content and happy for the first time in a long time. as anakin leaves your room, you lay down on your bed with a smile on your face— grateful to be the aspect of his devotion.

#anakin skywalker angst #anakin x reader #anakin fluff #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin angst #anakin x y/n #anakin x you #anakin x reader angst #anakin skywalker x reader angst #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin and reader #anakin skywalker #star wars anakin

[realisticfanfictions]

Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress - Part 2.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader: Part One.

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: I'm so glad the first one was well received! I'm pretty self-concious about my writing, but seeing everyone's hearts and reblogs has made me so happy! There's also been a ton of new people following this page, and I'm so appreciative you guys are liking my stuff enough to keep up to date with my writing <3.

Word Count is 5,427. Hope you enjoy!

"What the hell was that?" You knew that this made you look like a crazy girlfriend, dragging your significant other into the cold room and locking the door behind you. You'd gotten a few curious and slightly concerned glances from other staff, but by this point they knew better than to intervene. White fog spewed from your mouth as you spoke, giving you the appearance of a mighty dragon ready to burn down anyone who stood in her way.

Sanji, who hadn't fought you the entire way here, rubbed his face with his hand and shoved the other into his pocket. "I was just trying to be friendly." He shrugged.

A cold breeze caused you to flinch, but you refused to show any weakness. "Bullshit." You hissed and gritted your teeth, unable to fathom this man's arrogance. "I'm not dumb, Sanji-"

"And I never said you were." Both hands were now in his pockets and he finally met your gaze. He looked tired and you could tell he was chewing on the inside of his cheek - a habit you knew stemmed from his nicotine addiction. But his forced eye contact didn't last long and his gaze soon drifted to the corner of the cold room. He let out a small sigh. "I'm sorry. I can't help what I say to women-"

You held up a hand. "I don't care about you miserably failing at flirting. Well, I do care, but that's beside the point." You took a breath, counted to five and stared at your boyfriend's beautiful blue eyes. "I know that you're upset, and though I am very annoyed at you, I will say that I appreciate you telling me you're sorry."

"So it is about the-"

"Sanji." He slowly closed his mouth and subtly nodded. He was listening. "I know that you like women, and that you'll move heaven and earth for one to glance your way. I know that. I knew that when I started going out with you." You licked your suddenly dry lips. "What I get upset about, is that you went over my head and spoke to my customers in a rather vulgar way. I know you think it's beneath you, but I take a lot of pride in what I do. I'm good at it. And when-" God, your lips were so dry. "And when you go over my head, take over my table, insult the place that took me in when I had nowhere else to go-when we had nowhere else to go, and then ignore my discomfort and make a joke of it?" You met his eyes. "I am your girlfriend, Sanji. Something that you're meant to love and cherish- like how- I can't-"

Before you realised it, you found yourself slowly enveloped by the love of your life. "Hey," He shushed you gently as he cradled you against his chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way." He murmured and placed a kiss against your temple. "My love, you're shaking. I didn't realise I made you this upset. Please, forgive me."

You couldn't help but laugh. "I'm just cold, dumbass. And still pissed at you." Despite what you said, you still buried your head in his chest and soaked up his warmth. It was then you realised how long it'd been since the two of you had been alone like this. Just soaking up each other's warmth and committing the other's smell, touch and the feel of their skin to memory. You're embarrassed to admit you forgot just how much you love his cologne. "Guess this is what happens when we don't have sex for a while."

He gave a breathy chuckle and leaned back enough just to press his lips against your forehead and stare into your eyes. "Well, I'd offer to remedy that, but I'm afraid the cold will affect my performance."

"Like you need an excuse for a bad performance."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

His usual, charming smile stretched across his face and he licked his lips, before hungrily diving in and punishing you with a particularly brutal kiss. He softly moaned into the kiss, and pulled back enough for you to see the devilish look in his eye as he bent down to press a kiss to your neck.

The door suddenly flung open and Pattie groaned. "I should've known." He exclaimed and threw his towel at the both of you. "Move. I'm trying to get some stuff for dessert."

Sanji grew a wicked grin. "What a coincidence. I'm trying to get me some dessert too." He chuckled and moved in to continue his assault, but was thwarted by an incoming barrage of hits from the disgruntled chef.

Backed by the sound of Pattie yelling in disgust, you laughed and shook your head, worming out of Sanji's hold and skipping out of the cold room with said blond on your heels. You both quickly ducked out of the kitchen and into a small hallway where you turned around to look at him once more. "Thank you for listening to me, Sanji. I may have blown my lid a bit too much back there." You fished around in your pocket and pulled out your lighter. "Go take a smoke break."

"Darling-"

You pushed it into his hand. "Take a break, and have a smoke. If not for you, for me. Because I honestly can't handle you when you're being all bitchy."

His shoulders dropped and a tired smile replaced his worried expression. He wrapped his hands around your own and placed a kiss against your knuckles. "Thank you, my love." He exclaimed and you waved him off with a smile.

"Whatever, you wallowing wag. While you're walking, watch the weather and water, and warn the workers if we're wayward. We don't want any wild winds, or another wreck this week."

He smiled. "You still don't realise you do that, do you?"

You blinked. "Do what?"

A hearty chuckle escapes him and he presses a kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry about it." That damn smile of his made your heart flutter and while you were confused, you returned his kiss with a quick peak of his lips and watched as he walked off. You didn't understand why he was so weird, but you guess it's just part of dating someone.

Before you could go back to serving, a faintly familiar face poked his head around the corner. You squinted your eyes and watched as he walked around aimlessly. "Excuse me, are you lost?"

The boy in the straw hat turned his head in your direction and smiled when he noticed you. "Oh! You're (Y/N), our waitress!" He spun himself around and hastily walked up to you, almost tripping on the aging floorboards. "I didn't get to introduce myself," He tipped his hat. "My name is Monkey D. Luffy, and I'm going to be King of the Pirates!"

That made you pause. "Oh." You dumbly said, not really sure how to respond. "That's... nice. But this is a staff only area-"

"You're a good fighter." The boy- Luffy you corrected yourself, interrupted and leaned in uncomfortably close. "Well, Sanji's a really good fighter, but you're pretty good too!" He made a pistol with his fingers and pretended to shoot. "You seem good with a gun. And the way you backed up Sanji and knocked that guy out? So good!"

Again, you weren't really sure how to respond. "I was only helping out, but thanks, I guess." You put your hands on your hips. "Is there something I can help you with?"

He tilted his head in confusion. "No, I'm fine."

You blinked. "But you're in a staff only area."

He nodded. "I am."

"...And you know you're not a staff member?"

He shook his head. "I'm not."

You sighed and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "I mean, why are you here?"

A smile returned to his face. "Oh, why didn't you just say so!" He waved his hand around as if announcing something great. His eyes wandered around the room, as if searching for something in the distance. You were intrigued. "I'm trying to find..."

You leaned in. "You're trying to find...?"

"Yes, I am trying to find..." His eyes slowly drifted downward until they met yours. They sparkled with great mysteries waiting to be unveiled, a sense of adventure and bravery and fearlessness that you couldn't help but admire. He smiled. "A toilet!"

Before you could stop yourself, you smacked him upside the head. "Don't pretend like it's some big, life-altering explanation, you dumbass!" With each word, you brought your hand down to slap him on any part of his body you could touch. "Besides, there's three signs for the bathroom on the way here!"

He held up his hands, trying to block your attacks. "Ow! I'm sorry! Stop hitting me!"

You rolled your eyes and stepped back, crossing your arms and glaring at him. "You're such an idiot. Fine, come with me. You can use the staff bathroom, it's right down this hall."

Luffy slowly uncurled himself and nodded. "Thanks a lot! I was sure I was going to crap my pants, you're a life saver!"

"I didn't need to know that." You sighed and beckoned him to follow with a finger. "So, King of the Pirates, huh?"

He nodded, his straw hat bobbing with him as you both walked. "Yep! We have a map to the Grand Line, and we're going to find the One Piece."

You laughed. "Only idiots with a death wish go after that thing."

"Hm, not really. I don't have a death wish." He replied with a shrug.

With a dramatic sigh, you playfully shove him. "Sure you don't, straw boy. What's next? You're gonna tell me you don't plunder and raid villages wherever you go?"

He shook his head. "We don't."

You quirked an eyebrow. "Don't yet?"

He shook his head again. "No."

"Fine then, where are you going to get money?"

"Finding the One Piece will give us all the money we'll ever need."

"And until then?"

"I don't know, but we'll figure something out."

You scoffed. "They always say that."

He tilted his head. "Do you know?"

"I do. You can kidnap a princess and random her, rob an orphanage, maybe even take a business hostage and demand money or you'll start executing patrons."

Luffy stopped and stared at you. "That's really dark."

You shrugged and continued walking. "That's what you have to do if you want to find a crazy man's last fuck-you to the government."

His smile turned into a frown. "You don't think it's real?"

"I think that Gold Rodger wanted to bring about the age of pirates, and he did." You explained. "Doesn't matter if it's real or not. Its impact on the world is more valuable than any treasure he ever got his hands on."

Within a second, he was in front of you with a cheeky grin. "Ah ha! So you do think it's real!"

A sigh escaped you. "I honestly don't care enough to believe if it's real or not. What is real is the pain, and death it's caused. Nations tearing each other and themselves apart just to find a glimpse of a shred of evidence that horrid thing is real. And men setting sail and abandoning everything just because they think finding a gold chest is worth losing their family over. Then those same men kill other men with families just like theirs, spreading their filth and disease to every home, town and village just because they can't stand the thought of a man doing the right thing by taking care of his family."

Luffy tilted his head. "You sound like you care a lot."

A tense silence filled the air and you stared at this strange, but oddly charming character. So innocent, so naive. He had no idea of the world you knew, the one that you grew up in. It's rare to find someone this optimistic, or sheltered. You pointed behind him. "Bathroom's there. Leave when you're done."

To say that you were affected by his words would've been both an understatement, and a poor choice of phrasing. You weren't affected, per say. They rubbed you the wrong way, and brought up memories you would rather just forget. It didn't help that they ordered one of everything on the menu, and you were constantly bringing out dishes to a smiling, unbothered Luffy who just shoveled food into his mouth. It was actually really impressive, and you were glad that they didn't come last week when the Baratie did that eating competition. You're pretty sure you probably would've gone out of business.

With a perfectly manufactured smile, you set down the plate of ribs on the only available space between piles of plates and stacked glasses. "And this is the final dish - our limited-time French-Style Ribs braised in red wine and cranberry." You straightened up and the plate was instantly pulled towards the centre of the table. The man in the pirate attire groaned, but he shoved a rib in his mouth and moaned. "I hope everything's been to your satisfaction. Can I get anything else for you tonight? A refill perhaps?"

The orange-haired woman smiled. "We're fine for now, thanks." With a nod, you turned to leave. "When does the bar close?"

"It's open all night, but we do a deep clean around three to four in the morning. So you may not be able to get anything on tap, but prepackaged drinks are always available." The words flowed off your tongue like a rehearsed speech, probably because it was. She smiled and nodded her thanks, before turning back to the conversation they were in. As you walked away, you spotted a certain red-haired pig-tail wearing waitress near the till. "Macy."

Said waitress flinched and slowly turned to you. "Yes, Ma'am?"

More than a little annoyed, you walked up to her and lent against the counter. "Why are you at the till?" She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, trying and failing to start a proper sentence until you stopped her with a hand. "Macy, there was one rule; don't touch the till. What are you doing right now?"

She paused. "Touching the till?"

You nodded. "Good job, you got something right." With a small glare, you pushed past her and looked at the total that she was charging, then compared it to the bill laying on the countertop. "Unless they've agreed to add a ฿65 tip on top of your 10%, I guess we've just found out who's been messing with the till."

"I-"

"You're done for the night." Her shocked expression turned into a bitter snarl and she began to tug at her apron. "Macy, you've got the body of a used fucking tube of toothpaste. No one wants to see you undress here, get the fuck out. You'll make the customers sick." She gasped, but you dismissed her with a wave and she stormed out of the restaurant. You sighed and opened the drawer beneath the counter, pulling out the book of paid receipts and bookings. Both luckily and unluckily, it was getting close to end-of-shift which meant that you had time to fix Macy's mess, but that the mess was probably smeared dog shit on a window at this point.

Grabbing out your pen and a calculator, you mentally prepared yourself for the long night ahead, when you felt something touch your back. "Hello, my darling." Sanji greeted with a kiss to the back of your neck, then rested his chin on your shoulder to watch what you were doing while his hand lazily stroked your side.

With a sigh, you turned your head to kiss him. "Hey, jerkface. Glad to see someone with a shred of intelligence." You greeted, then scribbled down some notes. "Someone's fucked the till again, and screwed the customers' out of at least three-hundred berri from what I can see."

His smile dropped and he reached for the book, tilting it so that he can see it. "Closer to five-hundred than anything. This table didn't even order the Lobster Thermidor, what the hell's going on."

You slammed your pen down in frustration and leaned back against him. "No idea, but I'm going to have to make some calls and refund tables." He wrapped his arm around your stomach and kissed the back of your ear which made you sigh and rub your face. "I need to make a list and figure out how much we fucked people out of money." You happened to look over at Luffy's table. They looked like they were toasting. "Can you bill them? It'd help a lot."

He smiled and took the piece of paper you had offered him. "Of course, my love. And give me a list of the rich pricks you want me to call. We'll divide and conquer."

"What did I do to deserve you?" You asked as he picked up the golden dish used to store cash.

"You, my love, didn't need to do anything." He pressed a kiss to your forehead and then your lips, before turning around and walking over to do as you asked.

Turning back to your mammoth task, now with a smile, you picked up your pen again and started to scribble down the sum total of every receipt that was put in by Macy. It was a good call by Zeff to bar everyone else but yourself from accessing the till. It was pretty easy to differentiate your neat and straightforward ones from Macy's abominations, but it still didn't make it any less painful. The Baratie didn't even serve quiches, so why would she even put that in there?

The telltale sound of Sanji's shoes smacking against the floorboards broke your concentration, and you looked up confused. "That was fast-" You were interrupted by him flashing you what was on the bill. You frowned at his abrupt interruption, but then squinted and jolted back slightly to look at your boyfriend. "What the shit is a 'treasure tab'?"

"We're going to find out." He said with a smile and walked past you to the kitchen. This was going to be interesting.

Just as you thought, the kitchen door slammed open and Zeff's wide, intimating frame appeared in the doorway. "Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?"

Luffy, sweet and innocent Luffy, popped his head out of his booth and waved his milkshake. "Here!" Zeff locked onto him and marched toward the young boy.

"You seem to be confused about the rules of the house," You and Sanji, who had just come out of the kitchen, exchanged knowing glances and you placed down your pen. Led by your boyfriend, you grabbed a jug of water while he grabbed a tray of complimentary scones and he slowly walked around the scene that was unfolding. "But Baratie doesn't offer credit. You eat, you pay." You both stopped at a nearby empty table. You started to examine the glasses in detail, admiring the way the light hit the material, while Sanji wiped the table with a piece of lettuce someone forgot to clean up.

Setting down his glass, Luffy looked up at Zeff. "I think you're confused." Sanji and you shared a look. "The meal has already been paid for. I just haven't given you the money yet."

Pretending to look around the room, you caught the stern, no-shits-given look Zeff was offering the kid. "Yeah, and how's that?"

Luffy smiled. "You can add it to my treasure tab."

You and Sanji snickered at the tone in Zeff's voice. "And what, pray tell, is that?"

"A way to get your ass beat." You mumbled and Sanji quietly shushed you with a smile, trying to hear the rest of what was being said.

Still not realising what's happening, Luffy kept talking. "I may not look like a big deal yet, but you're talking with the future King of the Pirates. And as soon as I find the One Piece, I'm gonna come back here, pay this bill in full, and with interest."

Zeff chuckled. "I got a better idea." And yanked Luffy out of his booth, dragging the confused pirate to the kitchen.

A sigh escaped you. "That certainly didn't disappoint." You commented and picked up Sanji's makeshift lettuce-rag, pocketing it to throw out later. "Guess we have a new busboy."

Sanji shook his head, but kept his eyes on the door. "Wouldn't be good at anything besides dishes." He said and paused for a second. You could see the metaphorical gears in his head turning, before he nodded toward the kitchen. "Hold on."

"Sanji, don't-" But it was too late, the love of your life had walked off, probably to rejoin the line. Your fists balled up and you let out a frustrated groan, your heels clicking as you followed after him. "Sanji! Don't piss him off. Sanji-"

The doors swung open as the blond barged in the kitchen with you on his heels. Your words fell on deaf ears and you rolled your eyes at Zeff who looked between you two confused. "Oy, oy. What do you think you're doing?"

You threw up your hands, but helped Sanji shrug off his coat. "I tried to stop him." You said as you wrapped his jacket around your arm and lent against the wall behind you.

The blond scoffed and held up a hand. "Com on, old man. Enough's enough-"

"Put the jacket back on, little Eggplant. You're not done with your shift yet." Zeff's face was tired and stern as always, and all you wanted to do was pull Sanji back and apologise for the extra stress. However, you knew that the two were stubborn and that would only cause more trouble than it's worth.

Sanji's tone suddenly sharpened. "Let me back on the line, or I walk." You almost said something, but considering you said something similar this afternoon, you settled for a glare.

"You can walk right back into the ocean for all I care. You cook another meal like that in my kitchen, it's going right where the last one did."

"You can kick me out of the kitchen all you like. I'll never be a waiter."

"Well that's fine by me, because you sure as hell are never gonna be a cook in my restaurant. Have you got that?"

Your heart broke seeing your boyfriend's face when he glanced over at you. He was so angry, and hurt, and upset. His hands were balled into fists, but you just shook your head. It wasn't worth it. His gaze shifted back to the man who had taken the both of you in, and then he turned heel, storming out of the kitchen via the hallway.

"So it was Macy, then?" When you nodded, Zeff sighed and held his face in his palm. The two of you were alone on the balcony overlooking the ocean. You were all on a thirty minute break before the next service, and you'd stumbled across the old man while trying to get some peace and quiet. The man you both admired and respected more than anyone was sat beside you tiredly rubbing his face. "And where is she now?"

You fought back what you really wanted to say, and simply shrugged, picking up your glass and taking a sip. "I sent her home for the night. Didn't want to see her fucking face, the red-haired bitch."

He shifted in his chair and leaned forward toward you, pointing a finger in your direction. "There is no talk like that in the Baratie."

You rolled your eyes and put your glass down. "It's not a big deal. Everyone here curses-"

"But you never use such vulgar language when talking about a woman." He said, his tone firm and leaving no room for arguing. "I always taught both you and that boyfriend of yours to never speak badly about, or to, a woman. Just because you're twenty-one now, doesn't mean a thing. Get that?" Ever since you were fifteen, he's drilled his way of life into your head. From scrubbing the decks every time you dropped food, to spending late nights learning the difference between the various cutlery the Baratie offered, it was almost like his life's mission to turn you into a mini-him. To this day, you couldn't eat salad with a table fork, even though the minute difference between a salad fork and a table fork were so inconsequential they were practically the same fucking thing.

You bit the inside of your lip. "Well that bitch-"

"Macy."

The condensation floating slowly down your glass seemed to be more interesting than his face. "Macy has ruined all the work I've done to make the Baratie a place where you can just sit down and enjoy a good meal with the best service around. You know, I've had to deal with so much shit. More than anyone in this goddamn place. All the harassment explained away as jokes and if I'm uncomfortable with it, I'm just 'not getting the joke'. And then having to spend hours listening to the most intolerable stories about slick, rich pricks with small dicks bitching about their toxic chicks with plastic tits. And expecting me to not spit or get sick when they talk about me like I'm some quick flick." You took a breath, counted to five, and licked your lips. "But it's not enough that she'll get away with it. You also won't let me complain about her."

He sighed. "She isn't going to get away with it." You scoffed and raised your glass to take another sip, but a hand under your chin guided your gaze to him. "Look at me." Hesitantly, you lifted your eyes to meet his. "She," He spoke slowly, his intense blue eyes piercing into mine in a way that made you feel small. "Is going to be dealt with." His hand released your chin and migrated upwards to rest atop your head, softly patting your head like he used to when you were younger. "You've done well, little Sprout." You sucked in a breath and nodded, but your pseudo-confidence wasn't fooling the old man. "And if any of these 'rich pricks with small dicks' ever bothers you again, tell me. Nothing is worth you being treated like a sack of shit over. Not the Baratie, not anything."

A fake chuckle wormed its way out of you, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Thanks, Dad."

A smile spread across his face and he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you in and pressing his lips to your forehead. Zeff smelled like a thousand scents, oregano, paprika, and a dash of vanilla extract, but his warm touch and the feeling of his scruffy beard against your scalp only felt like one thing: safe. You hadn't realised you closed your eyes until you felt him pull away. "Now then, I've got some calls to make."

With a groan, he got up to his feet. "Are you sure? My waitress, my mistake."

He shook his head. "My Baratie, my mistake." He walked past, patting you on the head as he left the balcony.

It was time to face your boyfriend, and you were dreading it. With his coat jacket wrapped over your arm, you slowly made your way down the hall to the kitchen. The doors were swinging slightly, so you knew that someone had just walked in, and you took a deep breath, walking over to the entrance - ready to go in.

"...banned from the line." You paused when you heard Sanji's voice float through the air.

"But that meal you cooked was incredible!"

A smile graced your face and you lent against the wall just beside the doors. "The True Bluefin Sauté?"

"Yeah!"

"You tried it?"

"Yeah, of course I did! I couldn't help myself. I didn't think the food here could get any better. You know, you're a really good cook. Why is Zeff making you wait tables?"

"'Cause he's jealous. I should be running this place, but the old man's so stubborn it'll never happen."

"So, that's your dream. To be head chef of the Baratie."

A pause. "I guess-"

"No, it's not." Both men looked up at you when you entered the double doors.

The other voice who you now realised was Luffy looked at you confused. "It's not?"

Sanji laughed breathlessly and looked at the table he was sitting at, flicking open his lighter and closing it again. "It's not." He confirmed. You smiled and walked over to where your boyfriend sat, draping his coat over an empty chair.

"So you love to cook. You just don't want to cook here?"

The blond grabbed out a cigarette and looked to you where you had taken up residence next to him. When you nodded, he ignited the lighter you gave him earlier and lit the end of his cigarette. He took a drag and hummed. "There's... this place," He started and his eyes drifted to yours. You both shared a small smile. "Where you can find ingredients from all four seas. East Blue, West Blue, North and South - they call it the All Blue. Nobody knows where it is, but..." His gaze lifts heavenward. "There's fish there that have never been seen. You know, rare seaweeds, spices that have never been tasted. It's a cook's paradise, and I'm gonna find it one day." He looked back at you and placed his hand over yours. "That's my dream."

Luffy's gaze was soft, but also intense. "If you want to cook, you should cook. Don't let some stubborn old man stand in the way of your dream." He smiled. "Stand up to him! Tell him what you want."

"It's more..." Sanji looked over at you. "Complicated, than that."

The young boy shrugged. "I don't really do complicated either."

You scoffed. "For someone who claims to be a pirate, you don't like a lot of things that pirates are known for."

Luffy looked at you. "For someone who doesn't like pirates, you sure do act like one."

Before you could say anything, frantic banging on the staff exit caught you all off guard. Begging for help, a man tumbled in and fell to the floor, barely having the strength to cling onto the countertop. On instinct, you went to pull out your gun but stopped when your boyfriend raised a hand to you and marched toward the man. Being the good Samaritan you certainly weren't, Sanji and Luffy helped him up onto a chair. "Are you okay?"

The man's voice sounded croaky and scratchy. "I'm so hungry, please."

Sanji nodded and moved to the stove. "Okay, you got it, man. How does some corned-beef fried rice sound?"

Pattie, appearing from his break, quickly stood up and followed after him. "What do you think you're doing?" He demanded.

The blond didn't bother to look at him and you gave the pirate a warning look before moving to the fridge. "At Baratie, everyone eats." The love of your life explained as you rifled through the fridge for the ingredients he would need.

"And who's gonna pay for that? This is a business, we can't be giving handouts to every down-on-his-luck pirate that washes up."

"If a man is hungry, I feed him. Thank you, darling." He said when you handed him the beef.

Pattie looked at you for help, then back at him when you just shrugged. "Zeff kicked you off the line."

"Yeah, well, I don't see the old man here. Do you?"

The other chef looked at you once more, and you shrugged at him again. You both knew it was a losing battle, and so he waved his hand dismissively. "Fine, your funeral."

You couldn't keep your eyes off the strange pirate while he sat and ate, and explained what had happened to him. Sanji was way too nice a person for people like him to deserve. You knew pirates, and a part of you was tempted to hide the silverware.

"He's a good guy." Luffy, who was slowly becoming less and less of a pirate in your eyes, said and you nodded.

"Sanji's brilliant." The words came easily. "He's the kind of guy that only comes once a generation. He's a dumbass, sure, but he's a good dumbass."

He thought for a second, before turning to Sanji. "You know, if Zeff doesn't appreciate you, you should join my crew."

Your chair scraped as you stood and left the room.

A/N: I am genuinely loving writing this! As said above, I normally tend to leave the reader's backstory and personality ambiguous, but this character has just taken on a personality of her own! This one is a bit longer because I felt like there wasn't enough content in this upload to justify it. I wouldn't want to waste everyone's time with like, two conversations. I'm kinda happier with the longer/more in-depth parts because I get to spend more time building up characters and relationships, and I'm less tempted to accidentally write and spoil things that the OPLA fans haven't seen yet.

Also, I've grappled with the ages for a while now, and I've officially decided that this AU will have Sanji and (Y/N) be 21. Normally I'd leave the reader's age ambiguous, but since age is important to this story, it's needed to be put in there.

#opla sanji x reader #opla sanji x y/n #sanji x reader #opla sanji x you #opla x reader #one piece #anime #fanfiction #one piece fluff #one piece headcanons #writing #opla #opla sanji #opla zoro #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #one piece luffy #with: luffy #straw hat luffy #strawhats #straw hat pirates #one piece netflix #one piece live action #sanji vinsmoke #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #black leg sanji #one piece sanji

[queenie-avenue]

Ok hear me out👉👈

Katie finding out (in this case she got friendzoned LOL) that Reader is in a relationship with someone else?? How do u think she takes it??

I've been such a lurker for quite some time and i love ur content sm 🥺🥺🥺🥺 *sending kisses*

Rejection is never the End.

💌 ⤻ THE CHEERLEADER, KATIE WILLIAMS

—> she won't ever give up on you.

⤻ reader is gender neutral, reader has a girlfriend, no cheating, manipulation, possessiveness, obsession, typical yandere behaviour, gaslighting, reader gets drunk and katie takes advantage of her

notes: thank you so much for the ask, I'm so sorry it's taken so long for me to get to this!! no proof-reading, we die.

🦋⤻ archives.

If you have a significant other, Katie will no doubt be furious, especially if you reveal it to her just when she decided to confess to you, of all things. She will be pissed off, but will just smile at you and pretend that everything is a-okay. You wouldn't even suspect a thing.

Sure, at first it'd be awkward with you and her drifting just a bit — which causes her to almost have a meltdown and abandon her cheer captain duties for a while — but eventually after a month of two, you both would go back to normal.

The difference would be that now she had access to your relationship status.

And boy, would she make use of it.

Out of consideration for her feelings, you'd of course not talk much about your significant other but Katie, Katie wanted to know.

It started small, she liked to visit your dorm normally so it was a usual day of her coming to see you after cheer practice in her short shorts and pink t-shirts.

“Oh, those flowers are so cute, did your girlfriend get them for you?” Katie asked, lounging on your desk as she stroked the petals of the bouquet filled with your favourite flowers. “They are so pretty!” She squealed, grinning at you as you sat on your bed.

“Yeah, my girlfriend came over just the other day. It was fun.” You smiled back, wanting to keep details of your beau brief out of respect and love for Katie.

“Does she get you flowers often?” Katie inquired, eyes fixated on the flowers, back turned to you now.

“Not really. It was just a special occasion yesterday, our one year anniversary.” You exclaimed, clearly giddy about the fact you had been together with your girlfriend for a year.

“Fun.” She replied, tutting her plump lips. “So, why didn't I know about her? I mean, you showed me pictures once but you don't really tall about her that much.” Katie commented as she leaned towards you.

“We don't talk about our relationship much…” You mumbled. “I mean- she's like secretive about it. So not a lot of people know.” You shrugged your shoulders awkwardly. Oh, [y/n], you really were such a horrible liar. Katie could tell in an instant that the idea of you relationship being kept secret made you antsy, uncomfortable. If it were *her* that was your girlfriend, she'd be parading you around proudly. Why couldn't you see that?

“Huh.” She huffed, eyeing you up and down.

That was how it started.

She made use of your insecurities about your relationship with your girlfriend and weaponised them against you. Slowly, you grew more worried about whether the reason your girlfriend didn't want to reveal your relationship was because she wasn't proud to be with you, or she wasn't committed to being with you or worst, that she was being unfaithful towards you. Katie didn't help matters, subtly showing you those stupid YouTube shorts with reddit stories that talked about how people who didn't make their relationships known typically cheated on their partners.

You slowly spiralled into madness, growing resentful of your girlfriend and more appreciative of Katie. Eventually, you would break it off with your girlfriend when things became too hard for the both of you.

You kept starting arguments with your girlfriend over why she wanted to keep the relationship a secret, you became too needy for her validation and she was annoyed with you constantly picking fights with her and also your budding relationship with Katie who seemed to find a way to antagonise your girlfriend every single time. Katie egged you on, overanalysing each word your girlfriend said or texted to you and reporting what she thought back to you. Most of which just made you view your girlfriend in a horrible light.

Eventually, you broke up with your girlfriend.

Just like Katie wanted.

She would soon swoop in to comfort you, tell you that it wasn't your fault that the relationship didn't work. Your girlfriend was the red flag, you didn't do anything wrong!

“Come on, pom-pom. Cheer up, you'll find someone much better than her. You were too good for her ass anyway.” Smiled Katie as she dragged you for a night of partying at a fraternity.

You got wasted, of course; attempting to drown out the sorrow of your freshly opened wounds.

Katie's hand snaked around your waist as you danced to the beat of the music, the loud thumps banging loudly in your ear as you drunkenly relied on the cheerleader for support. Before you knew it, the dancing morphed into Katie pulling you into the bathroom, your legs wrapped around her waist as she leaned closer into you, both sat on the counter of the toilet. The vague sounds of people banging the door outside as you both gazed into each others’ eyes. “You feeling better?” She asked, dark eyes looking into yours intensely.

“I… I still miss her.” You slurred, slumping your body into Katie's neck, letting out a dry sob. The cheerleader hummed as she placed a hand on your waist, another under your chin.

“You don't need to think about her anymore, okay? I'm here for you.” She pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

Katie knew that you loved her, everyone did. It's just that your girlfriend was in the way. Now that she's not, you can be devoted to loving her, and only her.

#yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere blog #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #anon ask #ask #yandere female x reader #yandere female #female yandere x reader #female yandere #yandere fic #yandere ask blog #yandere asks

[gay-dorito-dust]

I have a request idea for Wednesday that hopefully you can make <3

So I was thinking that Wednesday has feelings for reader but has hardly admitted it to herself yet let alone for reader, so after the battle with Crackstone (is that the name of the old pilgrim guy?) and after Wednesday was stabbed and all that, she starts to feel the weight i f everything that happens and reader offers the take care of her, begrudgingly Wednesday agrees and then reader cleans up her wounds, helps her change clothes and all that all the while treating Wednesday with utmost kindness; and Wednesday just kinda melts for it? Like she had one hell of a night so being treated with such care really gets to her, maybe she gets a bit emotional? And she can ask to spend the night with reader or something, just Wednesday realizing how nice it feels to have someone holding her for a change. Thought it'd be cute, feel free to elaborate <3

Crackstone left more scars then Wednesday would ever hope to admit. She was forced to acknowledge that on multiple accounts throughout the duration of her uphill battle against the undead pilgrim; she had come across too many close for comfort encounters with the concept of dying with secrets concerning her feelings towards you clogging up her throat, chocking her with the lies she ever spoke into existence. Death might’ve been something Wednesday fleetingly tempted at every given moment, whether willingly or unwillingly. However once she has gotten too close to embracing the sweet sting of deaths dreaded kiss; she finally felt the suffocating grip of fear against her chest.

Wednesday often forgotten that her hardened stance at life didn’t make her impervious to being easily cut down and left to bleed out much like a got her human. So when she was laid out across the floor of Crackstone’s crypt, her body progressively getting colder by the second, she grew fearful at not being able to tie up every loose end in her life, she feared not having have said everything she has ever wanted to say to the people she held in a remotely high regard. You, Enid, Pugsley and Eugene were the first that came to mind when she originally thought that.

So as she continued fighting to good fight well into the night, her mind was bombarded by a plethora of questions that were left open ended due to the lack of an answer on her behalf. For they were all asking what would become of her future if she was to succeed or die miserably in trying. “Wednesday?” You emerged from the plumes of black smoke, face filthied with mud and sooth but still looked enticing to the Addams with fear lacing your eyes as they looked over her with growing concern. “Oh my god, what did he- no. Don’t tell me the grotesque details and follow me…please.” Tired from all the fighting Wednesday couldn’t find it within herself to fight with you and instead begrudgingly followed closely behind you as you lead her up to the nurses office; Where you made her sit on one of the beds whilst you rummaged the cabinets with frantic and grabbed ahold of the necessities and splaying them out on the table beside the bed.

“This’ll sting a little bit but it’s better then leaving your wounds to infect and cause even more problems for you later on.” You told her as you brushed away some of her raven locks from the wound on her forehead before gingerly dabbing the disinfectant wipe across the dried blood, which caused Wednesday to stiffen beneath your touch. It wasn’t that she was feeling the sting that you mentioned but more so the fact that you were treating her as though one would treat porcelain. The way your fingers would caress her skin with such a gentle nature even as you firmly pressed the gauze against her wound before using the medical tape to keep it into place; the lingering kiss of your fingertips still hauntingly drifted across her skin long after you moved on to the wound across her palm.

It wasn’t until you stared sweetly cooing soft words of comfort to her when her resolve started to crumble at your feet and as unpacked emotions she kept concealed began to formulate in the tears that blossomed within the corners of her dark eyes. “You’re so brave Wednesday,” you told her as you repeated the actions you did for her forehead wound, grimacing when you uncovered the grand scale of the injury but yet you still looked at her with the softest eyes anyone has ever given her, that she had to bite her bottom lip to stop herself from crying out. “I’m so proud of you, you saved us and save the school and you said you didn’t like being a hero.” You added as you placed the necessary coverage on her palm, securing it place with medical tape.

“That’s the problem, I’m not the hero you make me out to be y/n. Principle Weems died because of me, everyone here almost died because of me, you, enid, Eugene, Thing and Xavier almost died because of me!” Wednesday cried out in anguish, staring at you with her bleary eyes as she reached out to grasp the hand you had on top of her knee and squeezed it tightly desperately in hopes that some essences of your softness would seep into her. As though in an act of desperation to feel it again, to remind her that you were very much real and not a figment of some unprocessed trauma she may have endured during the fight.

Wednesday was scared that you would wake up and realise the truth to her words and leave her so to prevent that potentially happening, she tightened her grip on your hand, almost pressing your palm down into her knee like she was trying to mold you eternally to her being. “Don’t praise me for resolving something that I was predestined to bring upon the school before my conceptualised birth….I’m a monster in the same vein that Tyler was.” She croaked as the words just continued to flow out of her live a raging river, prophesied for a full speed collision with a powerful waterfall. “Don’t say that Wednesday, it’s not true.” You tried to comfort her but she was already steadfast in her self conception as being incapable of being worth the amount of praise given.

“It’s the truth for me y/n!” Wednesday exclaimed, more tears cascaded down her cheeks by this time that you were almost left speechless at seeing her convey this much emotion. “You shouldn’t be forced to be within the presence of a monster.” She trailed off, casting her eyes downwards so she doesn’t have to gauge your reaction as the toll of her emotions throbbed throughout her chest like a pained heartbeat. “Oh Wednesday.” She heard you say so softly that she believes that she was making up hearing your voice. When suddenly you brought the girl into your arms and once the stunned feeling wore off Wednesday collapsed into you shoulder and weeped heavily, soaking the fabric, but you didn’t care as you’d rather her cry out her emotions then bundle them up in an act of a self destructive tendency.

“You could never be a monster to me Wednesday, so don’t go and put yourself in the same category as Tyler Galpin. He was a true monster of no mortality, you on the other hand had all that Gaplin wished he was and so much more. So please don’t ever think yourself comparative to the likes of him. When you are better then him in every other way possible.” You finished speaking and felt Wednesday grip onto you even tighter as her sobs continued the rack her body violently that you had to sit yourself down on the bed beside her. “Can I stay with you, just for tonight?” Wednesday spoke up after her sobs hand long subsided but refused to remove herself from your comforting hold, as she found herself heavy with fatigue and a overwhelming desire to sleep with your arms. You chuckled softly as you ran your hands up and down her back, feeling her melt even further into your chest.

“Of course you can, you didn’t even have to ask.” So when you both managed to make your way safely to your dorm, not bothered in going through the effort in changing clothes, you and Wednesday cuddled up underneath your covers and drifted off into your dreams as Wednesday grasped onto you tightly, sighing peacefully.

#Wednesday imagines #Wednesday imagine #Wednesday x you #Wednesday x reader #Wednesday fic #Wednesday fanfic #Wednesday Addams imagines #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday Addams fic #Wednesday Addams fanfic #Wednesday Addams x reader #Wednesday Addams x you

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

Go to bed

Jack Russell x Reader

Fluff just pure fluff. Doing a couple short fics atm to get back into it. Still only sleeping few hours every couple of days rn

Summary: Jack cuts movie night off short when you cannot seem to stay awake.

Does anyone know if Ted can eat?

Working with Ted and Jack was exhausting. Constantly on the move, sleeping rough in tents and run down motels. That was if you were lucky. Between constant fights, hunting and running there was very little time to rest.

Until now.

There'd been a break in cases. No new trails to follow or friends to rescue. Just a couple weeks in a cabin in the woods with your two closest friends and a bunch of DVDs to watch.

"Please!" You called. Jack groans a response from the kitchen while you lounged on the sofa. Streams of days last light lit dust like fireflies through the cozy space. The sweet smell of the popcorn drifted through with Jack as he stomped his feet slightly.

"Really? Wolfman?" He cringed as he joined you.

"You said I could pick first!" You joked as you reached for the popcorn. Jack swiftly held it up over his head with a chuckle. Not deterred you continued to swipe for it half climbing over Jack to claim a handful.

Before you fingers could even graze it Ted had the bowl snatched as he stalked across the carpet. He grumbled something shifting his shoulders in what you could tell was laughter. Jack immediately stiffened under you before you shifted your weight from where it'd been pressed against him.

"Well...uh...it's fine...." Jack stammered, clearing his throat before jumping up to grab the remote. You nestled further to the middle of the sofa, making room for your largest companion. Ted rumbled an appreciative sound before moving into the space you'd created.

As the film droned on you couldn't help the heaviness in your eyelids nor the way your head slumped against your palm. You really were exhausted in that bone deep way. Still you fought it off best you could. This was the first real break you'd shared with Ted and Jack and you didn't want to fall asleep on them.

Fate had other plans as Jack soon realized. He'd hardly been paying the movie much attention. Instead he was lost in symphonies of sensations. Your thigh pressed to his, the heat radiating across his skin where your bodies made contact. Then the slight slowing of your breath as you relaxed further, a shoulder coming to rest against his own.

He didn't dare take his eyes from the screen. He'd had enough of Ted mocking his flustered state around you. He just took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. Big mistake.

He was overcome with your scents. The shampoo you used that always made him drift in closer; the sugary sweet where popcorn graced your lips, even scent from your skin. The natural scent of you that had slowly become so mixed in with his own that it made his head spin.

Jack almost yelped when your head flopped down onto his shoulder. Barely managing to not flinch hard enough to knock you off. You just grumbled before nuzzling your face closer into his neck. Jack stiffened under the sudden affection turning to look at Ted.

Ted for his part was trying hard not to wake you either but his obvious amusement at the situation was clear. Wide red eyes bemusedly staring back at the rising panic in his friends face.

"mierda, Ted!" Jack whispered fighting down a whimper as he felt your breath fan across his throat.

Ted rose slowly from the sofa, the shift in weight causing you to tip closer against Jack. Ted huffed a laugh moving quietly to your abandoned phone.

"Don't you dare hermano." Jack hissed. Ted bared him no mind snapping a couple of shots before setting the phone back on the table. He scooped up the popcorn and bid his floundering friend goodbye and heading outside.

Jack cursed again before relaxing into the warmth. Without judgemental eyes watching he started to enjoy your closeness. Still it didn't sit right with him the way you were bent against him.

As softly as he could manage he slipped an arm under your knees and brought you into his lap. You grumbled again slightly and he stilled until you settled against his chest. He hoped you couldn't hear how fast his heart beat against your cheek.

Jack rose with you caged securely against him, taking smooth steps he carried you through to the bedroom. Looking down at your resting face he felt his heart swell. You looked so peaceful despite the dark rings under your eyes. God why hadn't you told him how tired you were? Movie night could've wait.

Gently he rested a knee against the bed, leaning down to lay you against the mattress. Your fist bawled up against his shirt, gripping the material as your face crumpled. Jack's heart leapt back up into his throat. In this your most vulnerable state you sought him for comfort? The thought was almost too much for him and he could feel tears pricking in his eyes.

Softly he took that hand in his, rubbing a thumb over your bruised knuckles. Your hand gripped his lightly and he rose it to his lips, brushing a kiss against the marked skin. You hummed slightly in your sleep, face relaxing again before your fingers grew limp in his grip. Jack smiled bringing your hand back down to rest on your stomach.

He rose slowly, pulling the covers over you and heading to the door. At the threshold he took another glance back at your sleeping form.

"dormir bien, mi amor"

#werewolf by night #jack russel x reader #jack russell x reader #my fics #marvel imagine

[driftwithme]

Some notes on my interpretation of chaleigh:

Although Chuck had had a teen crush on Raleigh, it wasn't 'til they personally met that it hit Chuck with full force.

That's because Raleigh never felt real to Chuck until that moment. All Chuck had was an idealized version of Raleigh, the reason why Chuck couldn't help to feel threatened by Raleigh, afraid of getting replaced now Raleigh was back. It was the Double Event what made reality land on Chuck. Raleigh was real and had just saved him and his dad and he was out there risking his life against 2 kaijus with no option for reinforcements and Chuck had been a colossal dick to him, fuck.

On the other hand, it is Operation Pitfall what makes it for Raleigh.

You know that scene when he states he is looking forward to the future for the first time in 5 years? I think post-Pitfall Raleigh carries that energy with him --they can live now, war is over, he's free.

Raleigh hears Chuck's "last words" in his nightmares. Those nights, conversations that haunts him get mixed 'til he hears Chuck's I want to come back 'cause I like my life and Yancy's Raleigh listen!! and Pentecost's you know what you have to do and Mako's Raleigh please and even his own words anyone can fall. He thinks there's something there but it's gone by morning light.

Chuck knew before Pitfall he was in love with Raleigh, but pushed it down 'cause they were heading on a suicidal mission. It'd done no good. There was no time.

Post-Pitfall Chuck can't look at Raleigh without feeling his heart bursting with hope. He hates it and hates himself and hates Raleigh because his love rivals his grief (for having survive when Pentecost died) and he's really really suffering. No man is made to be that happy when all he wants to do is die.

Which means yes, Chuck is suicidal.

He's passively suicidal tho. He'd not do anything to hurt himself but he is simply not taking care of himself either.

And from all it's worth, Raleigh Becket is the most qualified person to guide him through it. Raleigh is a bit desperate on that sense 'cause he recognizes himself after Knifehead in Chuck and he swears he can't let it happen. Not to someone else. He can't let the story repeat itself. It's gonna destroy them both.

I think it's just a matter of time before Raleigh fondness for Chuck turns into deep respect and admiration. It's just a matter of time before it is too much for poor Chuck and he's exploding again (in a figurative sense, sorry!) and confessing his feelings to Raleigh if only because he can't focus on his healing when he's too busy swallowing his love for Raleigh.

I think Raleigh kiss him first and Chuck punches him and refuses to see him or let him close to him, believing that the Becket is only doing it to heal Chuck. Not that Raleigh could feel anything for him anyway, right? He pushes the pain away and goes ranger mode again and it's a total mess. Mako and Herc panic because hell, co-pilots can't read minds out of the drift, everyone! They know it's bad and they know Raleigh and Chuck are agonizing over it and they do have a clue of what might be happening (they are not completely blind), but still.

Raleigh is mad mad. He knows how he feels about Chuck and it pisses him off that Chuck is deciding it for him. It only shows him that Chuck doesn't respect him like a grow ass man yet, that Chuck is being selfish by pushing Raleigh away to protect his own feelings, not caring about how it might hurt Raleigh too. He is beyond angry. He thought they were friends! He thought they had gone past the fighting to hide their fears! Beyond the need to hurt the other to shut him up, beyond burying their own needs in favor of saving the world! They are free, finally, and Raleigh is pissed because he is dying to show Chuck what it means, he is scared for Chuck and he's scared he'll lose him now that he could have him and he doesn't know why Chuck. Won't. Listen!!!!!

When Chuck finally settles in his head enough to realize that he hurt Raleigh again, he's scared to death it is too late, that he has screwed their chance for real this time, that Raleigh got tired of him or got too hurt or worst. The possibility of losing the first friend he has in years is driving him crazy.

Chuck has years of trauma / training to on how to force himself out of his own bloody body, always aiming to be the perfect soldier, even if no one likes him, even if it makes him lonely, even if he feels it eating at his lungs when night falls and he has no one to tell him it that his nightmares are not real, he is meant to be alive, it was not an error, he is not there by mistake. They are always some variation of what if Herc was supposed to save his mom but he fucked up what if he was meant to die on pitfall but the breach fuck it up what if what if what if.

I'm not implying Chuck is not smart or emotionally aware enough to push all of it away, knowing it to be a lie. What I'm saying is that it's hard to fight that war on your own. Those battles... you cannot win them getting on a jaeger. You cannot win them in one night. Or a year. Or even a lifetime. You fight every day and some you lose. You'll have to keep going, tho. Again and again and again. That's what every survivor knows. You survive every year a bit more.

At this point Raleigh was probably just waiting for Chuck to come around. He talked it out with Mako, who helped him come to terms with the whole situation, and with Herc, who promised to keep Raleigh informed at all times and to help Chuck open up when he was ready.

It is the last nail on Chuck's coffin: to realize Raleigh Becket was willing to wait for him like that. Chuck's feeling raw and bared, naked. Raleigh is looking at him like he did after the double event, like he is evaluating something, all blank faced. And like then, Chuck lowers his chin and forces himself to stare back, stay quiet, let Raleigh decide how to feel about him.

Chuck completely broke the moment Raleigh's mouth softened and the edges of his eyes started wrinkling, the muscle of his cheek hinting a tiny puppy smile. His whole life is rushing back through his veins and he is breathing in without even wondering if he shouldn't be shocking on salt water and oh, Chuck is so in love with Raleigh Becket, fuck.

They sit and talk.

Raleigh says:

You can't go into a relationship trying to be both people at once, Chuck. You can only be you and I can only be me and we will have to make it work.

You'll think that after piloting giants of steel, the veterans of the jeager program would effortlessly fly on their own feet, light and comfortable. No one tells you how awkward it is to relearn how to live with only one brain inside your head or relearn to fight fate with a much more fragile body. No one tells you how hard it is to learn how to live again, after you've were sure you wouldn't make it out alive.

But it gets sweeter, the process, when you expect arms wrapped around you when you fall, lips and thumbs erasing the tears from your cheeks. It is as good as it gets, Chuck knows, Raleigh knows.

Too bad they've always been the ones to challenge what is said to be the limit.

#pacific rim #pacrim #pacific rim 2013 #pacrim 2013 #raleigh becket #chuck hansen #chaleigh #chuck x raleigh #raleigh x chuck

[asks-n-trolls]

Night Terrors

Lamb drabble! A good nights rest is hard to come by nowadays

Content warning for some minor cult stuff and uh burning alive stuff? LMK If I need to tag anything

"Go on then. Bring our little lamb to the altar. It's almost time." Those words, haunt you in your waking moments and even- especially now. When your eyes are shut and you've drifted off in hopes of getting any kind of rest.

You're being escorted and what you see around you is the two blurred faces of the trolls who fed and cared for you, distant memories those lusus substitutes, each grabbing your arm and forcing you toward the pyre. Words and symbols carved into the wooden pole as they try to tie you to it.

Your heart races, you never chose this but then again the moment you first opened your eyes you didn't get much choice in anything. You struggle and try to flail in an attempt to make it harder for them to tie your hands together but in end its not much use. You spot an opening and use your head, or your horns I should say, to ram into at least one of them. You land a hit on the side of their jaw that causes the one you hit to fall over the other rushes to them in aid and there you stand. Why are you still standing. Your feet and legs are free, you run past them but before you can get far you feel yourself get tackled by others.

The leader tells them to be careful with you, you're their prize sacrifice after all. One of many but the very last one they need to finally summon the deity he's allegedly been in contact with. Flashes of an old rusty bone saw appear in your peripheral the horrible sound of horns being sawed off flooding your skull, you try to fight back but they easily overpower you. Defeated you are dragged back to the 'altar'. Your stare cold and empty as He recites some prayer and the flock does the same, chanting with him as they light the match.

As you watch it fall indescribable pain surrounds you, starting at the soles of your feet then slowly rising, you want to scream in pain but you know its useless. You close your eyes and wish it'd all just go away meanwhile your body screams at you to get away. It feels like an eternity before you finally pass out from the pain. Your world is dark but not for long… You see in the distance a light growing closer then suddenly multiple appear that's when you realize what they truly are. Eyes.

You open your eyes and for a moment, the shadows form the vaguest silhouette of-- Eyes. Shut. No. It's not him, this isn't the first time you've woken up like this, by now you know its just those shadows following you around pestering you to keep moving forward but that would mean leaving; Your new hive, Your friends, Vemili, Everything. You can't be alone not again. You hate being alone. You were alone for so long the thought of not being around them it hurts almost as much as-- That's enough reminiscing. It's late but the sun wont rise for a few more hours, maybe a walk will help clear your head, it hardly ever does but perhaps this time…

You give your matesprit a kiss on the cheek and tell him you'll be back and all he can respond with is a mumble in return, you smile and get ready to venture out.

#lamb drabble #cult cw #cults cw

[blxxditout]

: ̗̀➛ Cont. from here ┊ ┊ @darksonofsparda

When the earth came under siege due to the raising of the Qliphoth, he'd been brought into the world again, sprawled across a cold wooden floor. Lying there besides him was the one who saved his life, as well as the one who tried to rob him of it. For what purpose, for what reason, he was uncertain. What he did know was that he'd been given a second chance, the opportunity to wipe his slate clean of the past that had lead him to this ending. With a heavy wound in his heart, he'd bid his adieu and left the home behind him. Though he could not forget what remained in there, he could not bring himself to face it. Even in death, she was still as beautiful as the day they'd first met.

In some ways he blamed himself, cursed whatever god there was for making things go the way they did. When he stepped out that door, he expected to be greeted by sirens, police waiting to take him away. Sid could not have been prepared to find the monstrosities in their stead. Beasts with curved limbs, sporting sickles for arms hissed in his direction. Their mandibles clicked grotesquely as he spied the very human skulls that sat in the middle of their disturbed heads. It was a terrible nightmare, something he hoped to wake up from, something he tried to wake up from.

But no matter how hard he tried to shake himself awake, the truth of reality dawned upon him. Selene... he really killed Selene, and these monsters were here to drag him to hell because of it. Was that right? They were gaining on him, scuttling after him as he ran. One foot got caught behind the other and then he fell. The Empusas could not have been more delighted to have found and caught such easy prey. The first scythe cut into his leg, dragging him back as he cried out. He could see the others gather around him, raising their arms in anticipation.

He turned to look over his shoulder, eyes beginning to cloud with tears at the pain. Why was this happening to him? What had he done to deserve this? Those shaking hands soon turned into trembling fists. Sid used his arm to block their attacks, growling as he felt them tear into his flesh. Pushing through the sinews of his muscle and fat, he used that against them, dragging his arm back and rolling onto his side. Stop whining.

Until now, it feels like that's the only thing he's been doing this whole time. Shifting the blame, pointing fingers onto others. The reality was that there was no one else in charge of his life but himself. That's why he fought back then, and that's why he fought back now. If anyone was going to throw in the towel and call it quits, it'd be him, on his own terms. The tears still spilled from his eyes as he engaged, taking the opposition head on as they got ready to resume their attack. When he won, he looked on at the ensuing chaos with a somber expression.

If things were going to be this way from here on out, he wasn't going to rely on another's help. He could strike it out on his own. He could make it... but you see, that only works for so long. He was yet to understand the changes to his biology caused by the complications of that ritual. Over time he started to break down and grow weaker for reasons he did not understand. Without the protection of a colony or the help of other 'devil hunters', he had to fend for himself.

Demons are most active during the night, and whenever he was attacked, he was left feeling more haggard than the fight prior. Drifting aimlessly through the wastes, he had happened upon an old building, seeking shelter and maybe even the help he had long since shunned since his revival. His legs ached for rest, weighing heavily upon the steps as he ascended floor after floor. It felt like a hopeless effort, that is... until he came across something interesting. There was an innate repulsion at first, something telling him that he ought to turn around.

What was there to lose? There's no reward without a little risk, is there?

What the stranger has to say in return to his plea makes him laugh, dry as a desert and softer than a whisper. Sid grunts as he feels soreness amongst his stomach. If he weren't on the precipice of defeat, he'd say he was finally back in shape to play ball again. Ha. Now wouldn't that be something?

"You say that like you're dangerous, mister... Don't suppose I should just head back the way I came, yeah?", it was starting to flare up, that odd feeling he had when he'd be face to face with one of those stinkin' demons. He could feel the cusp of it as he leaned on the wall for support.

"I- I won't be trouble, if that's what you're thinking. I'll be out of your hair before you know it, but right now", he pauses, "I could really use a hand"

He pushes himself harder against the wall, reeling. Black spots are starting to form in his vision as he lowers his head and shuts his eyes for a second, as if that'd will them away.

"Please?", he asks, pushing down the rising snark in his voice to try and appeal more to this stranger.

#darksonofsparda #// hello! and dw dw theres no need to rush for these things :)) #// thanks for reading through my carrd! and this totes works! #🔪🩸『 𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗘𝗗 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗠𝗘 ┊ threads 』 #⚔️『 𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗘𝗫𝗜𝗟𝗘 ┊ dmc 』

[binch-i-might-be]

i was just wondering, after seeing like all sorts of AUs for the Thin Ice Verse™, how would an AU where Alex came to America the way he did in the musical? pretty sure it'd change some things and i was just curious, especially for Gwash and Alex's relationship

ohhhh. oh oh oh

okay. this would be fascinating actually

well first of all, we would have to start at the beginning–Rachel's letter to Gwash. she would have definitely still sent it, because obviously she wanted at least one of her babies to have a good life. now, why didn't he receive it?

I think the spiciest option we have here is that because he was deployed at the time and constantly on the move, it was delivered to Mount Vernon. where, perhaps, someone's despicable mother was temporarily residing due to heavy construction work on her own house?

yes I'm grasping at straws but let me have this: I propose Gwash never received Rachel's letter because his mother intercepted it and destroyed it. as far as she's concerned, there are zero (0) creole bastards muddying her bloodline, thank you very much.

so little eight year old Alex grew up having to fight for everything, without his Mama and without the man she had so confidently claimed would come for him.

until the hurricane hit and he lost everything again. until he could write himself on that ship to New York.

we are following the musical timeline so he meets John before he meets Gwash, and we all know how that goes haha.

now I don't think Alex knows his father's whole name. he was a child and delirious with illness, so even if Rachel told him Gwash's whole name, who knows if he would have remembered it. no, he knows two things about his father: his name is George, and he's a soldier.

okay. so Alex still takes his homies to liberate some british cannons, John and Alex smooch, word gets out about that weirdo artillery captain kid who keeps refusing to join Generals' staffs.

Gwash is intrigued. he summons the boy, and good God, he's young. their conversation goes basically like in Right Hand Man. Gwash thinks the boy looks familiar. he's glad to keep him off the field.

I think Alex is much more hesitant to trust, especially older men who have power over him–James Hamilton's influence has never been counteracted by a loving father, after all. Alex has been fending for himself for ten long years, and one thing that has very seldom been challenged is his belief that men shouldn't be easily trusted.

they spend a lot of time together though, and a good chunk of it alone with each other. George takes a quick liking to Alex; he reminds him a bit of himself when he was a boy, and he can see he's intelligent and fierce and passionate for their cause. but he's also young, and George gets the feeling that he hasn't been taken care of in a long time. his ever-bleeding heart can barely take that.

George is casually paternal to all his boys- his aides, he means. surely Alex won't reject his careful affection if he can see he's not being singled out out of some sort of pity?

and Alex, while he tries to tell himself that he doesn't need his General's affectionate, fatherly nicknames or his concern for his wellbeing- well. he can't deny that it is a bit. nice. just a little. (John might have had to take him by the shoulders and tell him "darling, he likes you. he likes all of us. it's not an insult, it's a good thing." before he was ready to accept that lmao)

the two of them grow closer over many late nights shared. George learns Alex is used to working to hard. he learns he's prone to frequent illness due to a bad childhood sickness (and even after Alex's countless reassurances that he can handle himself just fine, he can't help but worry. he's mind keeps drifting to his older brother. his daughter.)

George learns that Alex was born in the West Indies. he tells him oh, what a coincidence, he went down there for business once twenty years ago. Charlestown, actually.

George learns that Alex is from Charlestown. huh. they talk about the area, how it changed within the last two decades, and Alex comes to life, getting to talk about his home with someone who has seen it himself, who knows firsthand how beautiful it is. the beaches remind him of his Mama. he hesitantly tells George about this.

George is sympathetic. he doesn't know a lot about the boy's prior life, but he can concur that it wasn't an easy lot. he knows what it's like to lose someone important.

he thinks. maybe Alex needs to talk about her. as a way to remember. to make sure the details don't swim into each other and blur with the passing of time.

he asks what her name was.

"Rachel," Alex says, and George stops. Rachel. Rachel, and suddenly the boy's name, Hamilton, springs out at him–he hadn't thought anything of it when he'd first met him, it was common, a common name-

"Faucette?" he asks carefully, telling himself that it couldn't possibly be the same woman, that it, it wasn't, it couldn't have been-

and Alex stares at him from those wide dark eyes that seems so oddly familiar.

"you- you knew my mother?" he says meekly, so obviously hopeful, wanting someone who shares her memory, and oh George would love to be that for him, but he fears he's something else entirely.

"how old are you, Alex? when were you born?" he says instead of answering, and Alex's eyes widen more and more. he stumbles a step backwards, right into the edge of a desk. his hands shake when he raises them to cross his arms over his chest in a gesture so desperately protective, George wants to cry.

he swallows. "my mother said- before she died, she told me I wasn't her husband's son. she said my father was a soldier. from the colonies. she said his name was George."

and there it is.

George doesn't know what to do. he wants to take him into his arms, wants to hold the pitifully trembling boy, wants to feel his hair and cup his cheeks and trace a finger down his nose and across his brow and look at him and try to make sense of everything, but he remains where he stands.

Alex's arms draw tighter around himself. his eyes glint wetly in the candlelight.

"she said she wrote to him. she said he would come for me. take care of me."

and George's whole heart falls out of his chest.

"there- there was no letter," he says at once, wracking his brain to be entirely sure of something he knows with such certainty, but- perhaps he had missed it, somehow? perhaps his wife had-? it must have gotten lost, there was no way he would have disregarded a letter from Rachel. "dear boy, there was nothing, I- oh, if I had known, Alex, you must believe me, if I had known-"

he breaks off. there are no words across the span of all human languages that could communicate the depth of his emotion. his regret.

his boy. Alex is his boy. has been all along.

Alex sobs bitterly, and he is across the space to fold his child into his arms in an instant. the boy struggles for half a second before he melts into him and just cries.

George joins him.

#having emotions about this #realising you could have had a dad all along. realising your baby was out there suffering when you could have protected him. #:( #thin ice 'verse #alex (my sweet boy) #gwash (my emotional support fictional dad) #hamilton #ask #anon

[burning-fcols]

✧ 「   @ʜᴇʟʟꜱ-ꜰᴠʀʏ   」   ✧  - ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ★

「 ☆ 」 Slowly slipping into the darkness overtaking his mind, head lolls forward with painful, pathetic jolts of his neck. Mottled with bruises from large hands. Angel's feeble attempts to keep it resting against the rattling door— to force open his heavy eyes —making the arachnid appear like he is fighting off sleep; the blood smeared on the tile floor and painting his body ruining any potential innocence of the scene. Mind sluggish and body a cacophony of pains, Angel faintly wonders why he even still STRUGGLES against the temptation of surrender. It'd be so effortless to allow himself to retreat into the emptiness he knows awaits him...

It's going to happen anyway. Maybe it'd be best to hurry it along, rather than give his assailant the satisfaction of watching him take his final breath... Trembling violently where he's slumped on the ground, Angel can't blame it entirely on the merciless POUNDING against the door. Wood creaking, lock rattling, horrid words— insults and threats intermingling into an incomprehensible blob of familiar noise —leaking through as the spider flits in and out of consciousness.

He doesn't know how long it took before he finally collapsed onto the floor. Cold and hard, blood pooled beneath him blurring as his eyes flutter shut. Drifting into brief bouts of comprehension, Angel's head THROBS as the sounds of— ... what can only be described as Hell itself being unleashed, arises in the other room. Breaking past the splintered door and assaulting Angel's senses. Fur bristles with static, a tingling sensation dancing across him... Intense and yet unrecognizable amongst the overwhelming exhaustion, Angel unable to decipher anything aside from an instinctive understanding of danger.

But... not towards him. Not anymore. This symphony of sadism promising a safety Angel can't coherently comprehend, but FEELS. Knowing, in those faint whispers of consciousness, that the cause of the carnage is a good thing. That somehow, amongst the agonizing everything... there is still GOOD.

That's his last thought before he finally relaxes... The spider is limp in Alastor's arms when he's carefully retrieved from his filth-ridden hiding spot, leaving behind a bright smear of pink in his wake. Feeble rise and fall of his chest is the only indicator that Angel hasn't surrendered completely. Mouth slightly agape as air weakly enters, smear of blood shows where Angel had attempted to wipe it away with an arm. A small act of defiance on a body beaten to a devastating degree. Unfortunately, it's not the first time Angel has been put in such a state... When one lives the life he does— has been in HELL as long as he has —it's impossible to avoid.

But for someone who has never witnessed it firsthand, it's bound to be a shock.

Being gingerly held the way Alastor is? Having someone look down at him with such intensity, wanting— needing him to open his eyes, no matter how much it hurts? If only because it would hurt them so much worse if they were to remain closed... THAT is new. An incomprehensible turn of events that Angel doesn't get to realize the implications of. Or even fully understand through the haze. Robbed of the significance of the moment, a few unbearable breaths pass before Angel blearily open his eyes. Barely and blurred by moisture, but blessedly open.

He's awake... Through some speck of mercy, Angel gets to wake up. Enough to see a figure looming above. An unmistakable haze of red and feeling of static. A tear slides down his cheek, stinging in its trail. He can't quite— ... What is Alastor saying? He's talking, that much is clear but all meaning is lost. Angel too tired, his head swimming too violently. Were he in a better state of mind, there'd be so much to say. To ASK. The most prominent being ❛ Why are you here? ❜ Why go through the trouble of saving someone like Angel? It's not as if Angel would have permanently died. Sure, it would have been a pain to deal with. Another traumatic event to add to the pile. Another event to prove how LITTLE he actually matters—

But honestly, who cares? Even Angel is having trouble sympathizing with himself at the moment. Serves him right for being stupid enough to get into this situation. Right now, the person who seems most invested in his well being is—

❝ A-Alastor...? ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#hari don't look #(( it is Very gay )) #burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴛʀᴀ; ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ꜱᴏᴜʟ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜʀɴ; ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Angel Dust 」 #hells-fvry #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀ ᴋɪʟʟᴇʀ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Alastor 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’ꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡɪʟᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ; ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɢɪᴏᴜꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Alastor and Angel Dust 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ‘ᴛɪʟ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴅᴏ ᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ; ʙᴜᴛ ᴡ���’ʀᴇ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘʜᴀꜱᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[trashpocket]

hey just wanted to pop in and say that any pacific rim AU is high quality and an indication of impeccable taste, but making it Steve and Robin as a drift compatible pair, and Eddie as the mechanic who hates sending them out there is extra genius.

if I may add just one more concept to the table: Dustin as the kid with the kaiju obsession. he knows all sorts of stuff about their behaviors and biology, and maybe he bugs Steve to try and sneak him samples so he can mess with them. he has quite a few suspicious mason jars under his bed. and Eddie will pepper little kaiju details into the enemies in their DnD games because it makes Dustin happy. also, with Eddie being a drug dealer, and kaiju parts being highly sought after for medicinal purposes, I imagine he knows a bit about the kaiju too, but he's a bigger fan of them when they're dead.

AHHHHHHH, THANK YOU SM!!!!!! when i thought about the pacific rim AU at first glance, it already made sense to me that robin and steve would be the copilots, not only because it'd feel half assed to slap on eddie as his copilot and let them go to town, it'd make me feel like I've disregarded and deliberately misunderstood the dynamics between all three of them, if I hadn't made Steve and Robin the copilots and soulmates. Steve and Robin's friendship mean so much to me, because it not only mirrors what me and my bestie have (platonic with a capital P, each of us LITERALLY having the same dynamic, and me having liked him before, then getting rejected cause of), but having a platonic bound be so strong that they're two sides of the same coin, halves to each others whole, means a lot to me. And I believe that Steve needs a platonic bond so bad, because he's surrounded with so much potential partners in women, so much romance signaling that it's fuckn overwhelming and I fully believe Robin balances out all of that, all of his traits and little quirks and I'm not saying that is her purpose—because it is NOT, she is her own person and she exists OUT of Steve, not around him—I'm rather, seeing it as a side effect, so Steve and Robin are good for each other that way.

That, and Eddie as a mechanic makes so much sense, esp if we factor in the angst that this bad boi can give us. Not only that, but Eddie's creative mind tinkering with the Jaeger's design and model, constantly modifying like he does to his clothes in canon. Eager to help even though it fucking scares him that two of the people he loves always walk into the battlefield, knowing they might die. He's so fucking afraid for them, even though he KNOWS they signed up for this. signed their lives away for the world, so Eddie makes sure to do everything down to perfection cause mama,,,, he doesn't want to be the reason the jaeger fails. Doesn't want to see every avoidable little thing that might cause a chain reaction, that will cause him to lose robin, and most esp steve. Everyday, or on the days that kaijus do appear out there, he wants them to fight to live, because if they die, he dies, knowing that he sent them out there to fail. That he could be the cause of their deaths. So he prays to whatever god out there that his jaegers dont fucking break too fast before steve can return home.

And AHHHH, dustin being obsessed over Kaijus—I can TOTALLY see it. his dangerous fascination with things? Similar to Dart in s2. Eddie would def keep a small collection of Kaiju parts, not only cause theyre good to deal as a side hustle, the mofo think its pretty metal too (jk jk)

but yes, I agree, he likes them more when they're dead

sorry for the lil rant HAAHAHAHA

just wanted to thank u and say i feel honored, that u like this au, more particularly, the art i mde if

[phantomswriting]

Sour Chocolate - Kp fan week day 1: Can I try + love

~

"Love?" Chay scoffed. "Do you even know what it means to love and be loved?"

His words were cold. He hurt too much already. He would not let him do more. He could not avoid him completely with all the "his hia being involved with Khun Kinn" thing but he would not lose his heart in the meantime.

"Can I try? For you I'll do everything."

"Try? There's nothing to try. You've already done too much Kim. It's too late for this."

Don't show your pain Chay, you'll have all the time to cry later. He had to stay strong. He couldn't afford letting him under his skin once more. There will be no going back if he did that.

"Let me try, please."

Chay closed his eyes. He could not look at him, hearing his plea, and not react.

"I'm done waiting for you to try." he sighed. "I'm done being just a toy in these little scheme of yours."

"Chay..."

If the same talk had happened weeks ago, he would have fallen for this. He would have given him another chance. 

*

"And you turned your back! How did he react?"

Chay laughed at Macau's eagerness. They were sprawled on his bed, eating popcorns and some kind of chocolate Macau brought him. These chocolate were so sweet. He closed his eyes as he grabbed  another one and ate it. He let it melt on his tongue to take in all the delicate flavors. He took another as soon as the flavors started to fade.

"Hey... eat them slowly! Vegas brought them from his trip with Pete in Switzerland."

"Just ask him for more then" Chay replied as he took three more chocolates.

"I can't do that."

"Just tell him he's your favorite brother and make some puppy eyes. It works every time with my hia."

"It's 'cause your puppy eyes are irresistible and Porsche can't say no to you."

Chay held on his breath as he felt Macau's hand at the back of his neck. His hand was warm, the weight of it comfortable. He let himself go, trusting Macau to hold on him.

"And you can?"

His question was barely above a whisper but Macau heard it. He saw his smile at that and the pressure of his hand on his neck tightened. His thumb was going back and forth leaving a tray of shivers on their path.

"Of course not and it'd be silly of me to try."

"Because it's a lost battle and being smart is knowing when fighting is useless?"

Chay repeated the words he heard so often from both Macau and Vegas. He still had issue understanding them. For him and more so, for Porsche, fighting was the only way. Not fighting was never an option. It was how they lived or more like, how they used to live.

"You listened." Macau said in awe.

Chay nodded and was rewarded by another of these soft smiles Macau made just for him. He wanted to reach for his lips but did not dare move. He liked what there was between them. He did not want to cross that bridge and risk ruining  their friendship. As if Macau had read his mind, he saw him get closer. His hand was still on his neck but he had stopped moving it. Chay held on his breath. He tried to keep his eyes on Macau's but drifted again to his lips. He could not look away. He wanted to close the gap and have a taste. How would they feel against his? Could he taste only the chocolate they just ate or something more? He wanted to know.

"Chay! I'm home!"

Chay startled and moved back. Macau's hand left his neck as if he were burnt. He jumped off the bed quickly, rubbing his arm nervously as they could hear Porsche climb the stairs and stop in front of the door.  A soft knock and, seconds later, Chay told his brother to come in.

Chay felt something close to hurt as he saw Macau look away. Gone was the easy closeness of the last hours. Forgotten was what almost happened minutes ago.

"Everything's good?" Porsche stopped and looked at Macau before he added, "Didn't know you had Macau coming today."

"I was leaving P'Porsche. Didn't want to impose." Macau mumbled.

He did not look at Chay while he grabbed his things. He was still not looking when he said: "You can finish the chocolates. I'll ask Vegas to buy me something else."

The words left a sour taste in his mouth. Chay did not want the chocolates anymore.

Porsche was looking at the scene trying to understand what was happening. Chay wanted to thank him when he remained silent.

*

"Did I interrupt something?" Porsche asked from the stairs a few minutes after Macau left and Chay was still staring at the closed door.

"No hia. There was nothing to interrupt."

If his smile was a little too bright to be true, no one needed to know it. He would be okay. Or... at least he could try.

#kpweek2022 #kinnporsche #macauchay #macau x porchay #macau theerapanyakul #porchay pichaya kittisawat #pre relationship #angst and fluff #or more like angst fluff and more angst #don't ask me how i ended writing this

[valorxdrive]

she's holding up her small little laptop up to his face as if it were a punishment. on the screen only one video plays: Nyan Cat 10 hours HD 1080p

Another late night was spent on the dorm's couches. That was nothing out of the ordinary. In fact the ordinary happens to be a silver lining in the chaos of the coming days, juggling a balance between scholarly pursuits to the extinguishing the warped potential of mankind.

In truth? Sora genuinely did wish he was facing enemy Shadows right now, braving peril in order to get them one step closer to the peak of that eternal ascension.

The luxury wouldn't be in his hands however as through those rustic curls, Minako's position was an enabling force that couldn't be avoided, as those manicured nails balanced between them a portal in the depths of chaos itself. The grating sound of hell's angels burning with nyanyyaNYANYANYANYA in a chorus that would bring any sensible human into the clutches of madness. Did she realize what she was revealing to him?

Did she perceive the way her lips twisted into a smile of delight, curious to the reaction as a singular cat made of poptart and flesh continued to drift aimlessly across the celestial atlas? A grim power was beginning to coalesce as through Sora's vision, the screen began to distort, Minako's hidden potential being a catalyst for a form of change that would end all creation unless they act.

Most importantly? He couldn't allow her to be lost.

"Mina--" Teeth clenched, the tension draws rise to strength and resolution as he abruptly scoots back, leaving his hips towards the couch's arm as a command of power fashions iridescence into his palm. Time found itself pivotal as precious grains of seconds were fading from their touch. Right now, the keybearer couldn't allow himself to lose this bond.

Fighting through the torrent of maddening noise, of the website that flickered between dark and light screens, a brazen move is made as that very Key finds itself pointed towards her equipment.

"This ain't ending if I have something to say about it! Forgive me gang.. I gotta borrow your leader for a second!"

He wouldn't wait for any response that could've been done in that moment. With a thrust of his weapon, it'd be the divine silver that aims true towards the screen, causing the primordial forces within to reflexive ease back in some asinine way. There was more than 2D upon that very screen.

It would be the power of Sora's light that intends to bridge those very borders. As a beam of key energized light impacts the the laptop with decisiveness, reality itself shifts and bends uncomfortably as two of denizens of it's realm found itself locked, their hearts harmonized with that hellish realm as the battlecry of the keybearer found itself echoing as tremors briefly shakes throughout the premises.

Koromaru's water bowl was now left in ruins, one sacrifice of many.

As for Sora and Minako, not a singular trace besides the laptop that unknowingly zoomed in on a pixelate poptart body.

A new adventure awaits.

@foolshoujo

#foolshoujo #| Bottle Mail #i hate that my muse flairs up for this #:I

[scarletooyoroi]

Lumine tiredly laid her head on Thoma's shoulder. It'd been a LONG day for both of them and she was so tired. Walking to the inn wasn't something she thought she could do. So sitting down and allowing them both to rest was always a good thing. She grumbled something, something that sounded like, "Five minutes," before she began to doze off on the Kamisato's housekeeper.

From a singular glance, by no means or instances would he ever come to blame her for the exhaustion woven into her bones. To his gratitude it was a load shared underneath the weight of their combined endurance, that certainly helped oh so little when their latest adventure had virtually awakened a pit of Khaenri’ah technology. Having to weigh their options of genuinely fighting through a horde was as challenging as it was horrifying. To behold the scents of gunpowder, rusted and eviscerated metals, all while being in the golden gaze of those solitary eyes upon each machination was a trial.

Where they’d remain could easily be considered as another graveyard of battles long past. Torn metallic ligaments, metals bisected to horrendously melted through the use of their divine powers and physical strength...

Thoma didn’t have the heart to give any of that proper attention as they remained settled by the grand branches of the elusive Irminsul tree. Whether unearthed by accident, its presence finally finding the safe to sprout forth from the earth, Thoma truthfully would never know. His attention was focused upon Lumine’s weary figure as they found themselves huddled together. Errant sparks of light echoed with the hollow winds that drift over the scenery before them.

He could feel the exhaustion rest deep within his being as even his muscles found themselves holding aching muscles. A low hiss rises as the pain echoes softly, the presence of the Traveler being a simultaneous balm despite the stir of concern. Seldom does he ever see their limits find themselves being pushed to such an extent. How her fingers wove together spellcraft after spellcraft, becoming a nexus for the element’s fury that found themselves gripped by her authority.

Without even realizing it, in this moment, one of his arms had wound themselves around her shoulders the second she leaned in. An instinctive form of that desire to protect ensured that her blind spots remained well looked out for. Embracing the moment of letting those weary jade eyes sweep upon that resting complexion of Lumine’s, to witness her take the reprieve of rest, it only solidifies that willpower that burns valiantly. Just watching her manage meld into this moment of peace causes his arm’s grip to carefully tighten, to keep the palm support upon her shoulder, to make this wound about arm be more of a semi-hug.

“Rest easy. I’ll keep on the lookout for us.” He confirms with tempered words, drinking in the strength of his oath as he does exactly that. Even if from the shadows of his consciousness, that urge to rest also tempts him as well, the resilient flame keeps his body focused for what needs to be done. The mere thought that some heinous soul wouldn’t hesitate to put Lumine’s life in peril during rest..

It serves as the perfect view to let his stirred focus keep him alert.

@inyvat

#inyvat #| Tucked Letters #He has her back

[vindictiae]

Transformers Prime:

One of the innumerable poor that had dotted Cybertron's surface, Deadlock (then Drift) had attempted to eke out what living he could by scrounging and stealing energon. He'd gotten fairly good at being able to grift and pick subspace, but eventually it'd caught up with him. Rather than go after him directly (even then, his reputation was something to be taken seriously) - the corrupted enforcers had gone after Gasket.

He had arrived just in time to watch them dispatch his best, and only friend.

Deadlock doesn't remember much after that point, coming to himself only once he was shackled into a cell and led to a mock trial that resulted with him being sold to another noble. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily- he had completely bypassed prison and wound up in the depths of Kaon's Gladiatorial Pits.

It was there that he met Megatronous during his reign there, the two having come to blows more than once. Deadlock had barely escaped with his life, and though he had lost the fights- he'd gained something more precious.

Next to Soundwave, he became the Tarnian's most trusted confidante.

Currently, he's out wandering the 'verse, searching for energon caches that can help their cause, and keep their kind from starvation. He gives very little quarter, and even smaller amounts of mercy. He isn't an absolute killer, but he doesn't leave many alive.

Alt Mode: Bugatti Centodieci Root Mode: Bipedal Weaponry: two plasma blasters, one on each hip- and pair of nasty vibrosword hilts affixed to the kibble on his back.

#headcanon #will elaborate more in detail later. #thank you Ceemun!

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 11b

*Warning Adult Content*

Good Boy - Part 2

- Elliott -

"Knox claimed you, so you're practically one of us now. My brothers and I will do whatever's necessary to keep you safe, be it killing for you or taking a bullet for you. We've got your back, Everett. No matter what."

"And that will continue even after this war ends."

Gavin casually strolls into the kitchen, making both men sit up straighter in their seats.

He walks around the table until he's standing by Everett's chair.

"I don't think we've formally met yet."

He extends a hand for Everett to shake.

"I'm Gavin."

Everett awkwardly stands from his seat to shake the giant's hand.

Gavin is built similarly to Knox but his body is covered in tattoos and he has a beard that hits his chest.

Even when he smiles, he still looks intimidating as hell.

How the fuck did this guy win over sweet little Josie?

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Gavin says.

"And I know I'm long overdue but I heard about what happened to you the night of the party. I wanted to tell you personally that you don't have to worry about running into Scar anymore. He'll never step foot on this property again."

Everett frowns and his heart plummets to his feet.

"Oh my God. Did you... did you have your men kill him because of me?"

"No, kid. That asshole is still alive and breathing," Gavin laughs alongside Finn.

"I banned him from coming back here. Knox didn't have a problem with it and I assume you won't either."

Everett relaxes, relief flooding his system.

"I suppose not. But I never meant to cause anyone trouble. What if he tries to retaliate against me?"

"Then I'll kill him," Knox announces from the entryway.

All eyes fall on him and Everett's breathing immediately becomes erratic.

Knox is wearing nothing but a pair of black gym shorts, his tan skin and muscles covered in sweat courtesy of the workout he just completed.

His bronze-colored hair is in its usual messy bun and his smokey grey eyes are on Everett.

They remain that way even after Knox approaches him, finishes the rest of his orange juice and then flashes him a cheeky grin that sends tingles down his spine.

"See something you like, kitten?" Knox asks, his tone playful with a hint of seriousness.

He doesn't touch Everett until after their audience disappears, slowly dragging his thumb across the boy's bottom lip.

"Better close your mouth before I put something in it."

Everett's brows draw in as he picks his jaw up from the floor, lightly shoving Knox.

"Why do you have to make everything sexual?"

"Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?" Knox questions, making Everett blush.

"Before I get off track, I think it'd do you some good to join me during my workouts. I can even teach you a thing or two about how to defend yourself during an attack."

"No amount of moves will be enough to help me take down someone your size," Everett laughs.

"Would you rather be a shooter?" Knox asks. "I can get you a gun..."

"No," Everett protests, shaking his head. "I don't want anyone else's blood on my hands. I can't... I'm not a killer."

Knox rests against the kitchen table, pulling Everett closer.

"In the worst-case scenario, you need to know how to defend yourself when me and my brothers aren't around, Everett. If you won't let me teach you how to shoot, then at least let me teach you how to fight." "What if I end up breaking something?" Everett asks.

"Then I'll nurse you back to health," Knox says.

"What if I end up hurting you?" Everett whispers, moving to stand in between Knox's legs.

"Then you'll nurse me back to health." Knox rests his hands on Everett's waist, pulling the boy flush against him.

The air around them grows thick and the desire to do something filthy on top of the kitchen table is now at the forefront of Everett's mind.

"I need you to do this for me, kitten. Please?"

"I hear you," Everett says, his gaze sharpening as they drift to Knox's mouth.

"But what do I get in return?" Knox smirks, raising a brow. "What do you want?"

"I want to visit your favorite spot on the property," Everett says, excitement sparkling in his brown eyes.

"The one by the river that Finn told me about? I'll train with you if you agree to take me there."

"You've been a good boy as of late, so I guess we can make a deal." Knox grins, leaning in closer to where their noses are almost touching.

"And with that being said, your training starts now."

"Wait," Everett shrieks as Knox goes to move, his mind still stuck on the way his stomach tightened and cock jumped at being called a good boy.

Is that the smell of a new kink penetrating the air?

"I'm not mentally or emotionally prepared for this right now. Can we do it tomorrow?"

"No."

Knox tugs him along by the hand, leading the way onto the third floor where the home gym is located.

"You're already dressed the part, so we're doing it now. No excuses."

"You're evil," Everett whines.

"Tell me something I don't know," Knox laughs.