#Even worse when it's not empty but like three people sit there and put all of their jackets on the seat next to me

[transmascissues]

some thoughts about top surgery recovery, as of 3 days post-op:

when they say using your chest muscles sucks afterward, i never realized exactly how much was going to be be limited. coughing, sneezing, hiccuping, laughing — all of it is terrifying right now. even talking for too long starts to put that kind of stress on my chest, and my voice isn’t as strong as it usually is. it takes me forever to fully empty my bladder when i’m on the toilet because i’m totally relying on gravity to do all the work (and shitting was effectively impossible without a stool softener even though i haven’t taken the pain meds they said i would need them for)…and don’t even get me started on figuring out how to wipe (hint: back to front while sitting, using my dominant hand to push my non-dominant hand far back enough). using the computer is also harder — i was planning on playing lots of baldur’s gate after, but for the first couple days i could only really go for a few minutes before using my arms that way got too tiring. having a mastectomy pillow has been an absolute godsend when i’m using my phone because i can prop my arms up on it and not really have to use any muscles at all to hold them up.

the biggest piece of not being able to use my chest muscles right now, which i’m writing separately because it’s been such a huge thing for me, is that i cannot sit up or back by myself at fucking all. like, if i sit on the couch and lean back a bit to sit against the cushion, it hurts to pull myself back up to fully straight — and if i’m leaning back any more than that, i just can’t do it at all and i’m stuck there unless my boyfriend puts their hands behind me and pushes my dead weight back up. i totally get why some people sleep in a recliner now because i’m completely at the mercy of having someone there to help move me around once i’m at any sort of angle. sitting back is mostly the same as far as what i can do, and arguably hurts worse to attempt at all, but my ability to do it seems to be coming back faster than my ability to sit up. if you’ve never had your mobility limited to that extent before, prepare yourself: the first time you’re stuck somewhere and the person who normally helps you doesn’t answer immediately can be really fucking scary (i learned that the hard way).

the anesthesiologist warned me that i might have a sore throat after surgery from being intubated, but i was not prepared for what “sore throat” ended up meaning for me. you know that feeling of swallowing something that’s too big and you can still feel it in your throat even after it’s down? it’s like that times 20, and further down in my throat. the worst pain i’ve felt in the last three days wasn’t from the surgery itself, it was from trying to swallow pancakes when my throat was at it’s worst. today is the first day it’s even started to fade, and even now, it hurts just to swallow my own spit. i don’t know about you, but that’s not what comes to mind when someone tells me “you might have a sore throat”.

on that note, the incisions themselves have really been the least painful part in general, probably because the nerves there aren’t reconnected yet. the vast majority of my pain and discomfort at this point has been from the drains and bandages — the drain sites getting sore or just randomly starting to sting, waking up feeling suffocated by the ace bandages, etc. it’s not because anything is wrong with them — the drains weren’t placed wrong and the bandages aren’t too tight, they’re just a huge pain in the ass to deal with 24/7. i can’t express how much i’m looking forward to getting the drains out and being able to take binder breaks because it’ll make things so much more comfortable.

my incisions are connected in the middle because my chest tissue was all really close together, and the part where the incisions connect is really the only part where i’ve felt any pain so far. i suspect it’s because the swelling on either side is making that part of the incision push together and press against itself, and then the binder pushes on it even more. it’s not a severe pain at all, but i do sometimes lift the center of the bandage off my chest for a second to give that spot a bit of a break.

i’ve already started getting some of the weird sensations associated with nerves reconnecting, and it definitely is wild. so far, it’s been mostly tingly feelings, sometimes like chills and sometimes more like a limb falling asleep. (weird observation: taking a shit makes my ribs tingle? i’ve got no good explanation for that one.) i’ve gotten a zap on one side and some buzzing feelings too. it’s pretty mild right now, probably because it’s so early on.

i’ve also gotten what i would describe as phantom boob feelings, especially on the first night. specifically, when i close my eyes, sometimes i’ll feel like someone is touching or jiggling the boobs i don’t have anymore. definitely not a super pleasant experience, but i think being out of it from the anesthesia still really helped me not be too upset by the worst of it. i’ve gotten a couple little phantom nipple touches too, but those were just split second blips of sensation that were far less bothersome in comparison.

i never realized that the classic post-op hunch is caused more by the binder than by the body itself, but we had to take all of my bandages off the night after my surgery to send pictures of something to my surgeon, and i was shocked by how much straighter i could sit with everything off. i was definitely still hunched, but it was more like a natural slouch and less like i looked like i was using an invisible walker. with the binder on, it’s super uncomfortable for me to try to stand straight at all because it feels like the ace bandage doesn’t come with my body and just drags everything down, and i’m always holding my mastectomy pillow or my hands to my chest while i walk around to stop it from feeling like gravity is going make the bandage tear my chest open.

every so often, when things are getting especially painful or uncomfortable or just generally difficult, i do start to wonder if i made the right choice. not because i regret getting rid of those things — not by a long shot — but because it’s a fucking hard process to go through. this is probably the hardest thing for me to admit, but the rational part of my mind knows it’s natural to feel that way once in a while. all of this is temporary and the relief from dysphoria will be permanent, but right now? this is my entire world and it doesn’t feel particularly temporary and i do have moments of “why do i have to go through all this when other people get to just have the right body from the start? why couldn’t i just live with what i had? why can’t i just be living my normal life right now?” no matter how sure you are of your choice, no matter how proud you are of being trans, this shit is hard and it’s okay to feel that.

i’m going to put the pictures of my chest one day post-op under the cut, because i think it’s pretty rare to see pictures from that soon after the surgery. they’re not gorey at all — the actual incisions are totally covered by steri strips and everything around them is clean — but still, if you don’t want to see relatively fresh surgery results, don’t look under the cut.

for all the discomfort and pain and limitations and other weirdness of recovery, every time i look at these pictures it reminds me of exactly why i’m doing all of this, and i’m so glad i kept fighting for this for so long. some people might never understand why someone would choose to go through this whole process, but i know it’ll be worth it in the end.

here’s my chest one day post-op! i think it looks super good and my surgeon said it looks like it’s healing perfectly (as much as it can be healing at one day). for reference, my chest was a DDD/F before surgery. i know this isn’t how my chest will look in the end, but i’m already thrilled with how things are turning out! i’ve truly never been more confident in my choice of surgeon — like, come on! look at that! she did so good!

#top surgery adventures #<- gonna start putting all the posts about my top surgery in that tag #top surgery #trans man #transmasc

[steddiealltheway]

Some kind of AU

Eddie tries not to slam his sweetheart into her case even though he’s pretty fucking pissed. He had just played a gig to what was supposed to be more than a couple of drunks because Brian had promised he was coming to his set tonight with a few friends. But his boyfriend had forgotten again.

The rest of the band gives Eddie his space, thank god, as he heaves an amp into Gareth’s truck and stalks off to his van - having done his part in packing up. He’ll make his round of apologizes later, but right now he wants to go to his apartment and sleep this night off.

Every traffic light in town seems to turn red as soon as he approaches it. He gets cut off by three people. And he swears the crack in his windshield is getting larger. And really this night can’t get worse.

He storms up the two flights of stairs to his apartment and sighs in relief when he gets outside of his door. He unlocks it quickly and goes inside, ready to get in bed as soon as possible.

Then, he hears it.

A moan.

Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs. Really not in the fucking mood to deal with Brian’s bullshit horny mood right now.

He stalks to the door and flings it open, ready to chew him out. But then he takes in what’s happening. Brian is on top of another man who is half naked in his own bed.

“So this is why you missed my set tonight, huh?” It’s the first thing that comes out of Eddie’s mouth.

Brian’s head snaps towards him, and he quickly climbs off the bed. “This isn’t what it seems, babe… and I thought you said your set would run late tonight.”

Eddie laughs humorlessly. He doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t process any of it. “And I thought you said you were coming tonight. Clearly, I mixed up your definition of the word.”

“Eddie…” Brian reaches out to grab his arm.

“Get out,” Eddie growls out.

Brian laughs. “You don’t mean that.”

Eddie has a good few inches over Brian that he uses to intimidate him, slowly whispering, “Get the fuck out.”

Brian stares at him for a moment in disbelief then quickly leaves the room, running towards the front door and slamming it shut.

Eddie sits on his chair and puts his head in his hands. It’s really been the worst night. There’s a huff of breath to his right.

Eddie head snaps up towards the stranger still in his bed. “What the fuck are you still doing here, man?”

The other man blushes and slowly lifts his left wrist which is handcuffed to the bed. The fucker used his handcuffs.

Eddie groans and opens his drawer to grab the key. He stares at the empty spot that the key usually occupies then he frantically digs around.

An unfamiliar voice says, “I don’t mean to make this worse for you, but I’m pretty sure he still has the key in his pocket.”

“Are you kidding me?” Eddie automatically replies.

“Man, I wish I was,” the stranger says, right hand rubbing sorely at his left wrist.

Eddie huffs, “They’re supposed to be for decoration only.” He stands up and makes his way to his tiny closet, digging out an extra wire hanger and beginning to bend it. He sits on his bed and goes through the tedious task of trying to pick the lock.

“You know how to pick a lock?” The man asks.

“No,” Eddie answers truthfully. “But I know how to hot wire a car.”

This gets the stranger to chuckle softly. Eddie looks up and really sees him for the first time. He has light brown eyes, long lashes, full lips, and really glorious hair. Eddie doesn’t know how Brian got him to go “home” with him.

“I’m Steve,” the stranger introduces himself, “Figured I should tell you my name if we’ll be here for a while.”

“I’m Eddie,” he replies. Although he’s sure Steve caught onto that before. He looks back at handcuffs, tongue resting on his top lip in concentration.

“I’m really sorry, man,” Steve rambles out. “I- I didn’t know that he was taken, you know. Especially with the way he approached me tonight all… Never mind. But really man. I had no idea. And I feel like absolute shit. I mean, the handcuffs weren’t even supposed to happen. He had gotten the key out and joked about it. But then they were suddenly on, and then you came in and… I’m so sorry.”

Eddie had stopped trying to pick the lock mid rant because Steve apparently has the habit of using his hands while he’s talking. Instead, he takes the time to look the guy in the eyes again, having the absurd thought that he wishes they had met in a different way.

Eddie shakes his head and continues picking the lock. “Thank you. I appreciate it,” Eddie says sincerely after a few moments.

The stranger runs his right hand through his hair and relaxes a bit more into Eddie’s bed. A minute goes by before Eddie notices that he’s shaking a bit. He sees the chills down his arms and quickly grabs at his blanket and pulls it around the man.

Steve takes it and whispers a quick thank you, pulling the blanket up his naked torso and around his neck. He stares off for a few moments and asks, “Is that a D&D dice set?”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He smiles widely. “You know what they are?”

“My friend, who’s kind of like a little, annoying brother, plays. I was actually thinking of buying him a new set for his birthday. Do you know where I could get them custom made? He’s been telling me about this new campaign…” Steve rambles on for a few minutes about all the things his friend - Dustin - has told him about. Steve seems terribly clueless about D&D, but it’s so obvious that he cares so much about this Dustin kid. And after a long night, this actually warms Eddie’s heart.

He continues listening to the campaign, impressed by whoever this Will kid is because he seems to have excellent dungeon master skills.

Eddie shares what type of design he thinks Dustin would like based on his character and offers to draw up a few concepts for Steve to use. Then, he rattles off a shop in town that he got his dice at which launches into Eddie explaining the reason for his set which was a gift from his uncle.

Eddie starts describing a few moments from his latest campaign and where he thinks it’s going, and he’s surprised when Steve gives him a few great ideas for the plot. As he’s going on about his most evil character created - Vecna - a clicking noise rings out.

Eddie stops mid rant, and both he and Steve look down at the cuffs. Steve slowly, almost reluctantly, pulls his wrist out and stares at the red ring around it.

Eddie grimaces and goes towards the kitchen, pulling an ice pack out of the freezer. When he comes back into the room, Steve is standing up, pulling a yellow sweater over his head.

It’s oddly endearing.

As Eddie gets closer he realizes they’re around the same height which is surprisingly comforting, being able to easily look him in the eyes.

Steve takes the ice pack and thanks Eddie again, pressing it into the slight bruise forming. He glances at the clock behind Eddie. “Shit, I have to get going or Robin’s going to kill me,” Steve says, stuffing his wallet that he left on the counter into his pocket.

Eddie’s heart drops at the mention of the name. He prays Steve isn’t like Brian, so Eddie can’t help but ask, “Robin?”

“My roommate,” Steve clarifies.

Eddie lightly sighs, oddly relieved that the stranger isn’t also cheating.

Steve stares at him for a few moments, eyes flickering between Eddie and the fridge strangely enough. He puts the ice pack on the counter and rushes behind Eddie, grabbing the dry erase marker and scribbling on the magnetic whiteboard.

Eddie stares in slight shock when Steve pulls away. “It’s my number,” Steve explains. “It’s just… I’ve also been cheated on, and it sucks. And if you needed to talk to someone about it… you can always talk to me.”

Eddie stares at Steve speechless.

“That’s weird, isn’t it?” Steve asks, eyebrows furrowed. He continues, “Yeah, that’s weird.” He doesn’t erase his number though.

He makes his way awkwardly to Eddie front door.

“Wait!” Eddie calls out, grabbing the ice pack and rushing towards Steve. He shoves it into his hand. “Take that with you, and give it back to me later. I have to draw that design for you, after all.”

Steve stares at Eddie for a moment then softly smiles. “Yeah, that’s right. You do.”

The two hesitate at the door for a few seconds, staring at each other. Steve shakes his head and opens the front door. “It was good meeting you, Eddie. I wish it could’ve been under better circumstances,” he says with a grimace.

“Yeah,” Eddie says laughing awkwardly. “Thank you for everything. I’ll call you.”

Steve smiles brightly and gently closes the door behind him.

Eddie huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He glances at the fridge, takes in the number, and begins laughing again.

What a fucking night.

(Part Two)

#so like #should I turn this into a whole fic? #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet

[moonstruckme]

I absolutely love your writing!! Could I request some hurt/comfort poly!marauders? Like maybe people are judging/really rude to reader about their relationship and the boys defend her and their relationship and make her feel better 🥹

Absolutely you can! Hope this is what you were looking for babe <3

cw: bullying, sexual shaming

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

“Whore,” Lucius hisses as he brushes past you in the hall. 

You hear James’ inhale beside you a second before you whirl. “What was that, Malfoy?”

“Too fucked out to hear me?” he sneers, coming to a stop and turning to face you. Your heart stutters at his words, but you’re careful not to let anything show on your face. “Don’t suppose you’re good for much except sucking dick, but I have to say, I’m impressed those Gryffindors caught onto it before the rest of us. I mean, why else would they bring you in on their precious trio?” His lip curls, and while there’s amusement there, there’s also genuine disgust that makes some small, pathetic part of you shrivel up in shame. “Slut.” 

“Sweetheart?” James asks, and you wonder if the restraint in his voice is as obvious to everyone else as it is to you. Want me to step in here?

You shake your head at him, but your stare is zeroed in on Lucius. You pout at him sympathetically. “I know it must be hard for you to understand. How’d I get three hot people interested in me, when you can't even get one to look your way?” You shoot him your best impression of Sirius’ wolfish grin. “Don’t worry, Malfoy, someone will come along who’s into all your inbred, Nazi bullshit one day. Maybe even a cousin, if you’re lucky!”

You continue back on your way, pretending you don’t need the steadying hand James rests at the small of your back as you stride down the hall. You make it through the common room, up the stairs, and into the boys’ dorm room before you lose momentum, releasing a shell-shocked, tremulous breath. 

James’ arms are around you in an instant, though it takes you a second longer to melt into his embrace. 

“Are you okay? You seemed like you wanted to handle it yourself, but I wasn’t sure.” 

You take a deep breath. “No, you were right. Thanks, Jamie. It just would have made it worse if it looked like I couldn’t defend myself.” 

There’s a shuffling of sheets, and you turn your head to find you’d been so distracted you hadn’t noticed Remus on his bed, studying. He sits up to look at the pair of you with concerned amber eyes, a question evident in his face. 

James saves you from responding, clutching you tighter and pressing a kiss to your head. “Had a run-in with Malfoy.” 

Remus sighs, the sound knowing. “That’s never good, is it?” His gaze falls squarely on you. “You alright, lovely?” 

You nod automatically, though your hands are trembling slightly. You’ve never been good at conflict, but pricks like Malfoy sometimes require you to rise to the occasion. It bothers you that someone like him, whom you don’t respect and whose opinion you couldn’t value less, can still rattle you like this. You know your relationship is unconventional, but it’s good. You haven’t been dating for very long, but you feel the rightness of it every day. Your boyfriends treat you better than anyone can reasonably deserve. You love them. Still…

“Do you think that’s what everyone thinks?” You extricate yourself from James, trying not to sound as pathetic as you feel. At Remus’ bemused expression, you add, “That you guys are only dating me because I put out, I mean.” 

James looks horrified. “Do you think that?”

“No,” you say, apparently too quickly, because neither boy looks like they believe you. “I don’t. I just…I don’t know, it’s stupid to care what people think, right?”

James bites his lip, and Remus looks at you consideringly. “I wouldn’t call it stupid,” he says after a moment. “It may not be the best guiding principle to always do what people want you to, but they’re not usually easy to ignore either.”

You heave a sigh, collapsing onto Sirius’ empty bed. “Exactly. I don’t want everyone calling me a slut all the time now.” 

Remus’ eyebrows shoot up. “What exactly did Malfoy say to you?”

You hesitate, looking to James in the hopes he’ll answer for you again, but before either of you can say anything, Sirius whooshes in the door. 

He completely fails to read the room, all bright eyes and good spirits as he struts over to his bed and leans down over you, his forearms on either side of your head. 

“I just heard about your Malfoy kerfuffle from Marlene,” he says, kissing you with a smack. “That’s my girl.” 

You can’t help but smile a little, his energy infectious. James gets in on the action too, patting your cheek as he sits down beside the two of you. “She was pretty amazing,” he says. “I thought Malfoy was going to shit the stick right out of his ass.” 

“Alright,” Remus says, the tiniest hint of impatience in his tone, “apparently I need to be caught up. What happened?”

“Our sweet angel said that Malfoy gets no bitches,” Sirius proclaimed proudly. “And then she told him to fuck one of his cousins.” 

“Well,” you say sheepishly, sitting up, “that’s not exactly word-for-word.” 

Remus quirks an eyebrow, but he’s smiling. “No? Give me the summary, then.”

“Basically, Malfoy said you guys only brought me in on your relationship because I put out, and uh, something about me only being good for sucking dick,” you say hesitantly, as if every word he uttered isn’t going to be seared into your memory forever. “So then I said he was jealous that I got three people to like me while he has no one, but…um, I did say something like maybe if he was lucky, he’d find a cousin that was into him.” 

All three of the boys are grinning at you, and Sirius plants another smacker on your cheek. 

“Attagirl,” Remus says, nodding approvingly. 

“Thanks.” You hope your face isn’t as red as it feels. “I guess now, I’m just a little worried that Lucius was just the only one who would say something? Like, what if everyone else is thinking the same thing?”

“Sweetheart,” James says, reaching around you to rub your upper arm comfortingly, “anyone who’s spoken to you for, like, point five seconds is gonna know that’s not true.” 

“Wait.” Sirius shakes his head, working to catch up to the conversation that started when he wasn’t in the room. “Are you really worried about what that prick said?”

You shrug, sheepish and a bit ashamed. “It’s not him, it’s more like…my classmates, and my professors. I wonder who agrees with him.” 

“Baby, anyone who agrees with Lucius Malfoy is just placing themselves in the same camp of idiots he’s in,” Sirius insists. His tone is light, but his eyes lock in on yours, feeling out how serious you are about this. “Our relationship isn’t anybody’s business, but our friends already know how you are, and they’ll defend you to anyone who asks.”

Remus nods. “Agreed. If anyone wants to believe that sort of baseless, cruel gossip, they’re probably not the lot you want to be around anyways. Just like Malfoy, yeah? If you cared what he thought,” Remus pauses to raise a playful eyebrow at you, “you probably wouldn’t be suggesting he fuck his cousins.” 

You grin. “Please, like he needed my encouragement on that one. You’re right, though, thanks.” 

James squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t let him get in your head, sweetheart. Everyone who matters already knows he’s full of shit.” 

“Yeah, and you should’ve heard Marl boasting about you in the common room,” Sirius adds. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she buys your butterbeers next time we’re in Hogsmeade.” 

You laugh, but stop when Remus levels you with a serious look. “Anyone talks like that to you again, you come straight to us, understand?”

You nod, and Sirius drags you into his side, eager to lighten the mood again. “Yeah,” he declares, “if anyone’s calling you a slut, it needs to be consensual, and it ought to be me.”

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders oneshot #poly!marauders angst #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #marauders fanfiction #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #marauders era #the marauders #marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader

[lilbitdepressed27]

Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader

Summary: AU no ghostface, takes place when they're in college

Warnings: none really

WC: 5.7k

Authors Note: don't really know where I was going with this one but I hope y'all enjoy :) sorry for any mistakes. Also kinda added some parts from one of my favorite shows :D

Everyone had been intimidated when they first saw you. You had transferred a few days late in the semester. Only by three days. When you had walked into the film study major class. The moment you stepped into the class you heard how quiet it got. You didn't want to take this class but it was either this class or a literature class. Your dad had wanted one class to be of his choice. You hated it but then again he was helping you pay for college.

You stood at 6'2 an athletic built from all your high school years playing basketball. Your dad had wanted you to continue playing but you had different plans. It was one of the reasons why he was so mad that he put you in a the film class. In a way to punish you.

But he wouldn't understand. After what happened, you couldn't go back to basketball. It was the main reason why, what happened to you last year happened.

Everyone looked your way but you kept a blank face. Giving a nod when professor motioned you to sit down. You felt the eyes on the back of your head but ignored everyone while you took your laptop out to take notes.

Ignoring the whispers that you heard.

*

You kept to yourself. At a very young age you've always been tall and a lot of people found that intimidating. It was even worse now that you had muscle. Anyone was too intimidated to come up to you. Until some guy sat down across from you. Though you did not want to be bothered but you were sitting at a table in the quad. You were able to get a table to yourself. The quad wasn't as crowded as you thought it'd be but there were still a few people around. Some empty tables. Which is why you didn't understand why this frat boy sat in front of you.

"Never seen you around sweetheart. Your freakishly tall but I can dig that. The name is Frankie. How about I show you around, could show you the Frankie train after if you want as well." He smirked at you, his overly inflated ego was what irked you.

"Oh you're mute? That's cool. Can't really say no then can you?" You looked at him with your face blank, but memories of what happened last year flashed though your mind. He reached forward but you gripped his and twisted it, your other hand reaching forward and slamming his head on the table extra hard for what he said. He yelped like a little bitch getting the attention of the people in the quad.

"One wrong move and I'll break your fucking hand. I'll give you one chance to walk away and leave me the fuck alone."

"Okay okay I'm sorry. Please let me go." He cried, his nose was bleeding from the slam and you felt satisfied at that. You pushed him away and let him go. He had fallen off his seat, he scrambled to his feet his face red with rage and embarrassment when he noticed everyone watching and some were laughing.

"You crazy fucking bitch."

You kept your straight face, he all but ran away and you continued with your work acting like nothing had happened. You kept on doing your work until it was time for your next class. After packing your things and heading to your class you saw a group sitting at a table looking your way. You spared them a glance your eyes connecting with chocolate brown eyes. She was beautiful. The most gorgeous girl you've ever seen. But you kept on walking.

*

After a long day of classes and your part time job you headed home. You had refused to share a dorm room with a stranger. So getting a apartment was the next thing you could do. The apartment was a solo room with a bathroom and good sized kitchen and living room. It was a great apartment and you loved it.

You walked into the building too see a man and woman kissing. But they quickly pulled away when you walked in. The man looked your way and gave you a slight nod. You returned the nod, the woman was pretty you can't deny. She looked up at you as you grew closer. Quickly making your way up the stairs towards your apartment.

"Hey you're the new chick." You looked up from your keys to see a pretty light skin girl with short hair. "Just wanted to say that you did every girl a favor today. The amount of times that asshole has tried something on every girl. It's insane. I'm Mindy by the way."

"Y-"

"Mindy hurry up I-Oh hi."

The same girl from earlier opened the door to see you. The beautiful brunette from earlier stood there. She was more beautiful up close. You took note of her freckles.

"Hi." You smiled slightly at the shorter girl. Your smile growing just a bit when you saw the blush. The brunette smiled at you, her blush still noticeable but she still seemed so confident.

"I'm Tara." Tara stepped forward of a smirking Mindy, holding out her hand for you to shake. Tara ignored her friend who been busy looking between the taller girl and herself.

"Y/n. Nice to meet you."

Tara just about melted to the floor when your hand engulfed her own. You were so tall. The way your eyes glimmered in the light was enough to hypnotize her. She looked up at you, liking the feeling of how you were looking at her. It made her feel warm inside. The sound of your name was so beautiful. You were so attractive. So handsome.

At the sound of clearing of the throat. You both jumped at the sound. Forgetting that Mindy was standing only a few feet away. You pulled away from Tara, you didn't want to but you also didn't want to seem like a creep.

"Well it was nice meeting you. But I have to start on my homework." You spoke, Tara mentally cooing at the sight of how red the tip of your ears got. The sight of the girl front of her now was a complete 180 from the girl she saw in the quad.

"Oh okay. It was nice to meet you as well." She spoke her eyes never leaving yours. It was like she hypnotized, she didn't want to move. She wanted to stay in your presence.

*

Tara looked at you from a distance. It had been a week since she met you. She had barely seen you around campus, the class she did have with you, you would always be the last one to show up (literally only seconds before the lecture started) and then you'd be the first one to leave the room. It was starting to get a little annoying.

Your once cold expression was back on your face. The gentle smile you showed her that day still plagued her mind. She watched how you ignored everyone especially the other jocks who have been on your ass for what you did to their running back. You didn't even look their way. This time she had sat in the chair where you regularly sit. Mindy sitting right beside her.

Her back straighten when she saw you walk in. With only seconds to spare. She watched as your eyes looked at her direction. Her heart hammering in her chest at seeing a little smile on your lips form. You walked to your chair and sat down right next to her. The chairs were so close to one another, that she got whiff of your perfume. You smelt so good. You looked so good. Your clothes fit you loosely. You had that baggy clothes aesthetic. The style fit you perfectly.

"Stop or you'll start drooling."

Tara felt her cheeks heat up bit as she nudged Mindy away from her.

"Hey."

The sound of your voice coming out in hushed whisper, seeing as the professor had already started his lecture. She couldn't help the smile that made it's way on her face. "Hi."

The class continued on and Tara spent most of her time sneaking glances towards you. Now that she was up close to you, she could take in your face features up close. Your eyes were a soft y/ec, she could also notice some light scars on your face. Now she wondered where you got them. Since she met you, you always wore clothes that covered your body. Long sleeves, sweaters, jackets. She couldn't help but to wonder why.

"You know you won't learn anything if you don't pay attention."

At the sound of your teasing voice her eyes widen a bit and she snapped her head back toward the professor. Her cheeks flaming red at the sound of your soft laugh and Mindy's laugh.

"Shut up. I was multitasking." She huffed, she had been caught ogling at you, feeling all of sudden hot and embarrassed.

*

This time after class you had packed your things slowly. Tara had done the same, Mindy had left right after to meet Anika. "So what class do you have next?" You asked as you stood up.

"I actually have some free time right now, what about you?" She hopped you also had some free time, cause she really wanted to be around you. She knew Sam wouldn't want her to be around someone she barely knows, alone. But there was just something about you that drew her in. Plus ghostface was gone. He had to be. Right?

"So do I. I go to the café not far from here to get something to eat while I study. You wanna come with?" You spoke in tome you hoped that didn't come off too hopeful. Your mom had told you not to trust people, you being too trustworthy was the reason you had almost died the year before. But there was just something about Tara that made you feel like you could trust her. The chances of the same thing happening to you again, was just low. Slim to zero. Right?

*

That's how your days were spent  after your first few classes. They were spent with Tara and sometimes Mindy with her girlfriend Anika. You had met Chad who was Mindy's twin. Along with Quinn and Ethan who were also siblings. Meeting so many people at the same time had made you a little anxious but you tried not to show it.

But Tara had noticed. The way you'd sit at the corner of the booth. Your eyes never looking away from your drink for a long periods of time. Your drink always staying close your body. Or how you'd always keep your answers short. Tara was starting to think you didn't like being around people. It would explain why you always had that 'don't talk to me' look you'd always have.

Although you seemed to relax more when Tara would keep being around you. Tara couldn't explain why she wanted to be around you. But she did and she liked your company. The way you'd relax around her joke and laugh around her. It was something she looked forward to every day.

Four months into the friendship you had with Tara,she had told you what happened to her last year. You couldn't believe she went through that, her own best friend doing that to her. Now you understood why her sister was so protective of Tara. You couldn't blame Sam. Sam had been the girl you saw kissing that guy, that one day. She had recognized you as well but you had kept your mouth shut seeing as she was keeping her relationship a secret. She had been stand-offish towards you as well but you understood. Really you did. You had been the same with everyone else as well. You may be tall but that hadn't stopped anyone before.

You had wanted to tell Tara what happened to you as well but something had stopped you. It wasn't cause you didn't trust. You just felt like it wasn't the right time. She had just told you her trauma, she had cried while she told you. It didn't feel right to tell her yours. So you didn't.

Now you understood why people around campus always looked at Tara and her friends. You never really paid attention to any of them. The scar Tara had on her hand, you didn't question it either. Or the little limp Tara had as well. Sometimes you couldn't really tell she had a limp. It wasn't until you took her to a carnival. With doing a lot of walking, you were able to tell. Without really pointing it out, you had offered a piggy back ride. She laughed and agreed. You saw the small look of relief in her eyes. So you had spent quite a while with her on your back. You had been grateful you picked back up on your gym routine.

You really didn't know who she or her friends were. You never did like the Stab movies and not to mention you had your problems last year.

Now any time you planned something that included walking you made sure to take breaks. You didn't want Tara hurting herself. Now that you knew what had happened to her. You also tried your best to make sure she felt safe.

You were in your apartment now, you had just gotten back from work and had headed straight to take a shower. Tara had texted earlier that she'd be stopping by to take you to her apartment for movie night. You recently given her your spare key. So she'd let herself in.

It wasn't long till Tara had let herself in your apartment. You had been taking too long, everyone was just waiting for you now. She walked further into the apartment. Freezing in her steps when she saw that bathroom door was opened. Your back was to her, she could see your back muscles but what really drew her attention was the light scars on your back. But what really made her stop in her tracks was the tattoo you had your ribcage. It was right under your boob.

DOD92822

She looked at the date, remembering the day like it had been yesterday. It had been the day she had been attacked by ghos-Amber. It had been the day she had thought she was going to die. Why did you have the date tattooed on your body.

"Shit Tara you scared me. I'm almost ready." You had your long sleeve shirt on now, along with some loose shorts. You hadn't noticed how Tara was yet move or say anything as threw your hair up in a messy bun. Finishing your routine and heading out of the bathroom. You only stopped when you noticed the look on Tara's face.

"Hey you okay?" You looked at Tara, growing a bit concern when she didn't say anything. "Tar?"

"What's-What's that?"

You looked at her confused, you looked around to see what she could possibly mean. She walked towards you, placing her hand over your tattoo causing you to straighten up. Breaking your gaze from her to step back. You shuffled on your feet, you weren't sure how to say it.

"Y/n?"

"Have you ever heard of someone named Rosalind Dyer?" You spoke not looking at her just yet. It would be the first time you ever told anyone. You weren't sure if you'd be able to keep your eyes dry if you looked into Tara's eyes.

"The name sounds familiar." Tara didn't know where she heard that name from.

"She's a famous female serial killer. Well turns out she had an apprentice." You moved to sit on the chair. Tara moving to sit in front of you. Now she knew where she heard of that name. She had only been freshman when they had found the first victims of Rosalind Dyer.

"He had kidnapped a few girls and gave them tattoos, before he'd put them in barrels. He had succeeded in doing it to three girls. I had been out with friends at the time. You know we had just won our state championship, we had fake I.Ds. So we went to a bar. There I met Caleb. He had been so nice. Kept on telling me he was a scout ucla and I had believed him. He had so much proof that he was. While I was talking to him about basketball. He slipped something in my drink and the next thing I knew I was strapped on a bed while he gave me the tattoo. The tattoo represented the day of death. I was being put in the barrel, he didn't like how much I was fighting him. He had punched, kicked, sliced his knife at me to force me in. It was a miracle the cops showed up when they did." You finished you'd have felt so grateful for those two cops that saved you that day.

"Uh I still need to save enough money to have the tattoo removed." You mumbled, your eyes still refused to look at Tara.

"The day I told you about what happened to me. Why didn't you say anything. You let me cry on your shoulder. I could have comforted you as well." Tara hadn't heard of what happened down in L.A. She had been too busy focusing on what was going in on Woodsboro. Not knowing that you also were also close to death last year. Not only did you have scars from the day like she did. But you had been branded as well by the psycho killer. Branded by the worst thing that had ever happened to you.

"I didn't think it was the right time Tara. That day was about you."

Tara's heart broke at the sight of tears filling your eyes. It had been the first time you were really vulnerable in front of her. Everything you did now made sense. How you didn't drink if you were out in public, how you always went for bottled water in parties or sometimes not even drink anything. Or how you'd hold her drinks, one hand always covering the top. Or how she'd drunkly try to grab any cups of beer she could get. You'd always stop her. Remembering the small glimpse of fear in your eyes.

She reached for your hands. Taking them in hers.

"Hey. I'm here for you to. Always Y/n. You're stuck with me." She stood up, standing in between your legs as she wrapped her arms around your shoulder and pulled you in. She felt your arms wrapping around her waist. It was no time for her to let the butterflies in her stomach to go crazy.  She wanted to show you the same comfort you showed her when she told you about Ghostface.

She wanted to be the one you felt safe around. Just like she felt safe around you. She felt you relax in her hold. She wanted to make sure you'd never feel like you couldn't tell her something.

*

"I'm assuming she told you."

Tara had stayed with you that night. She had held you like you held her that night she told you. You had fallen asleep on her chest and she couldn't help it but pull you closer. The following morning you had to go to your job and she said she had to go back to the apartment. So with a final hug, you both promised to see each other later.

At the sound of hearing her sisters voice as soon as she walked into her apartment had her jumping a few inches. "Jesus Sam. What the-Wait what do you mean told me? Told me what?"

Sam looked unsure now. If you didn't tell her about what happened, she'd be outing your own trauma and she didn't want to do that. She knew two of your secrets. The one had you pulling your drinks close to you and the one that had you blushing when ever she caught you staring too long at Tara.

"Never mind."

"No does it have to do with her living in L.A?" Tara was now confused cause if it does have what to do with that. How the hell did Sam know.

"Oh she did. Well come on Tara, of course I know. I had to know if she could be trusted. All I had to do was search up her name and a lot of articles from Los Angeles had her name in them." Sam had read a lot of articles and she was had gotten too much information. It was enough for her to feel horrible for reading so much about you. The picture they had of before you had gone missing, you had been so innocent looking. But then they showed one of how you looked after you were rescued. It really was heart wrenching.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Are you kidding. It wasn't my secret to tell. Although it wasn't really a secret, I'm sure she had her reasons. Just like we do. We have our own reasons why we don't go around telling people we survived Ghostface attacks." Sam trying to come to her own defense.

"Yea I know. I just want to be there for her. Like how she was there for me." Tara sat on a chair next to the table. Sam sighed and sat in front of her.

"Just keep doing what your doing Tara. I can tell she trusts you. And her  trust is not misplaced. I'm positive yours isn't either. You both have been through something traumatic. Just be patient." Sam reached over and took her sister's hands in hers.

"I really like her Sam." Tara said her eyes filling with tears. Her emotions were all over the place. That fear she felt, the thought of never getting chance to meet you.

"Hey, she likes you to dumbass." At the sight of the bewildered look she got in return made her laugh.

"Really?"

"Geez you really are dumb. Have you not seen the girl. Cold towards literally everyone else but with you, huge softie. A girl literally flirted with her, talking about how cold she was and how she would love someone's jacket. The second you said you were cold, which I know you said it on purpose. She hands you her jacket." Sam rolled her eyes at the sight of Tara's sheepish blush.

"Trust me Tara she feels the same way."

*

Since you've told tara the truth she's been mostly the same. Just like how you became a little bit more protective of her after she told you about ghostface. She had also grown to be just bit mor as protective of you. Tara had always been affectionate but now she was holding your hand in public, hugging you, holding you. Her physical touch had your heart racing. You love Tara. You were sure, no you were positive that you are in love with her. You just didn't want your feelings to ruin what you hav with Tara.

You were sat in the corner of the library with Tara. You both had some free time, so in the mean time you both were goofing off. Holding laughs that made it even funnier when you would look at each other. You couldn't help to laugh as Tara turned red from trying to hold in her laughter. You needed to calm her down before she had an asthma attack. You could her wheeze as she laughed. You pulled out the spare inhaler you carried with you. You had Tara give you one, since you had a scare at the start of the friendship when she had an asthma attack didn't know what was happening until she took out her inhaler.

"Stop." You held back your laugh as you held out the inhaler for her to take.

Tara took the inhaler and used to it. Once she caught her breath she wiped the tears. She still had her giggles and she had been leaning on you from laughing so hard.

You felt your heart beat pick up just a bit when she leaned back into you. Her head resting on your shoulder. It had been a bit cold in the library while you both had started working on your assignments. So you had given her your hoodie for her to wear. You had your long sleeves underneath, you had seen the goosebumps on Tara's arms and you didn't want her to get cold. She had taken the hoodie with some eagerness and put it on. You smiled at the sight of your hoodie engulfing her in your clothing. Your hoodie was really big on her.

Tara had not been cold. She had gotten the goosebumps from how close you were. She had wanted to lean into your warm embrace. You had thought she was cold. And now she was surrounded by your scent. She had pulled the hoodie close to her body. You were totally not getting the hoodie back. It was so warm, so soft and just so you.

"So I've bee-There you two are. I've been looking everywhere. Don't make any planes for later. We've been invited to a party and we're all going." Mindy interrupted you. You deflated a bit knowing very well that Tara would want to go to the party. Even though Sam didn't like when she'd go out. You didn't either but you'd go to make sure Tara and her friends were safe.

It wasn't long till they were all in your apartment getting ready. It was a Halloween party, Tara had dressed up as a pirate and she had you dressing up as one as well. Although you were dressed more like Will Turner from Pirates of the Caribbean. You didn't want to but you agreed never the less when it came to

Tara.

"Oh you guys look so cute." Anika gushed from her seat as Tara fixed your hat. You blushed when Tara smirked your way, her eyes twinkling in the lights from your apartment.

"Nika take a picture of us." Tara handed her phone to Anika. She then moved back to you pulling your close. Her arms wrapped around your waist as your loved to around her shoulders pulling her closer.

Anika took the pictures and more. Smirking when she caught the moment when you looked down at Tara and Tara had looked back up at you. The moment being captured by Anika and she couldn't feel any more proud of herself.

The walk towards the party was pretty light. Tara stayed by your side, her fingers interlocked with yours. You stood tall next to her, just cause she had seen your softer side, didn't everyone else got to.

The party had already been in full swing by the time they arrived. You watched as tara served herself a drink and grabbed a bottled water for you. You tried to relax but you never really liked going to parties. You had told Tara you had to go to the bathroom. She nodded standing up to follow you. You sat her down with a hand on the shoulder.

"I'll be fine. Stay with Mindy I won't be long."

Even though tipsy, she hesitated to let you leave by yourself. She hated how over bearing Sam had become and she didn't want you to feel like that. She stayed in her seat watching you leave. She knew the line for the down stairs bathroom was long. So maybe you'd go upstairs. And you did. So you wouldn't last too long. She watched as you disappeared upstairs. She counted down the minutes, standing up to wait for you by the stairs. As she made her to the stairs, she was stopped.

"You're looking quite sexy Tara. Wanna go upstairs so I can show you my hook."

Tara groaned in annoyance. She had just about enough of the guy standing in front of her. He had tried so hard to get her attention the moment they moved to New York. She had done everything to avoid him. And he would stay when you were around. He wouldn't out right say it but was afraid of you. But there were times when she'd be alone and he'd try to talk her up.

"Leave me alone Frankie."

She moved to go around him but was stopped by his hand grabbing her wrist. He tried to lead her up stairs and she had been a little more tipsy than she had thought. Her balance was off and had fallen if the douche bag wasn't holding her.

"Hey man, Tara's good down here." Chad had reached for Tara's wrist but Frankie had pulled her away.

"Sorry bro I didn't catch that." Frankie took a step down he smug attitude in place.

You had been turning to walk down the steps, the bathroom upstairs also a line but wasn't as long as the one downstairs. You stopped right behind the guy that you had slammed his face on the table. You couldn't be bothered to remember his name.

"Yea you did. Now let her go." With being step or two above him you stood extremely over him. Your eyes went down to the wrist that the douche bag had a hold of. You saw the shift of his attitude the way he clenched his dad. The hold he tara tightening. The wince coming from tara was enough for your to react.

Making the finals steps to him as you moved stand between Tara and the frat boy. Your hand gripping the hand that held Tara's. "I said let her go."

With a mocking laugh he let go, you also let him go. You didn't think he'd do something else. But you were proven wrong, before you could even blink his left fist connected with your cheek. The force of the punch had caused you to lose your balance and fall down a few steps before Chad caught you.

"You fucking asshole."

You had heard Tara curse the guy out. But then it was followed by a loud groan and another person tumbling down the steps. Chad had moved you both out of the way of falling frat boy. Everyone in the party laughed at the boy as clutched on to his balls.

"Oh my god are you okay. Let me see." Tara had sobered up pretty quickly when you been punched. She had felt this, anger in her. She had never felt like this. But actually seeing you get hurt right in front of her had her seeing red. She moved with a purpose, to cause any type of pain towards Frankie. And that's what she did she made sure to use the tip of her heels. The satisfaction of seeing him cry in pain as he fell to the floor.

Seeing you standing there in shock and a hint of amusement in your eyes had her snapping her attention back to you. Cupping your cheeks to see the damage done on your pretty face. With the lights house being shitty she took your hand on hers, picking up your fallen pirate hat.

Once out side under a street light she stopped taking in your slightly red cheek bone.

"Ugh that asshole. I'm going to-Hey I'm okay. Are you okay? You were dragged upstairs. I should of have been there with you." You stopped her from talking. Feeling a little guilty for not stopping that douche bag.

"Hey it's not your fault. Frankie is douche and a total creep." Tara gently rubbed her thump over the redness of your cheek bone.

You couldn't help the smile and them a small laugh. "Man. His face was too funny when you went full on Messi on his balls." At the sight of Tara's proud smile you let out a full on laugh. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"Man Tara that was awesome."

"Thank you thank you." She stated in a confident voice standing straight while wrapping her arm wound your waist. She had laughed as well, she was thankful that nothing today had brought any bad memories your way.

Her smile faltered a bit when she noticed how close both of your faces were. She had seen the moment you realized the closeness as well. Her skipping a beat at the sight of your eyes looking into her and then down to her lips. She moved a little closer, hoping she had read the signs right. She really hoped she did. Seeing you look back into her eyes with only inches keeping her lips off yours. The look in your eyes was enough for her to make the final move.

The moment her lips touched yours, was enough for her to die of happiness. Your lips had been as soft as they looked. The way you cupped her cheeks, she gripped your shirt in her fists pulling you as close as she could. She faintly taste your cheery chapstick and didn't know she could love cherry so much. Loving the way you held her. The way your lips moved against hers. The way your lips had dominated hers without even trying.

She smiled into the kiss, causing you to smile in return pulling away from the kiss.

"Wait you're not drunk are you. Oh my god I just too-Shut up. I'm not drunk and you have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that." She smiled up at you. Her dimples on full display when you smiled back down at her.

From a distance Tara’s friends stood with happy smiles on their faces. It was about damn time that the two of you got together.

The two of you deserved each other.

:)

#tara carpenter #scream #tara carpenter x reader #fem!reader

[haknom]

STRING OF FATE — KIM SUNOO

SYNOPSIS: losing against your rival due to your string breaking during your performance was already embarrassing enough, however, crying in front of them made it even worse.

PAIRING: violinist-rival!sunoo x violinist-gn!reader

WARNINGS: angst, comfort, crying, sunoo is kind of an asshole at the start, mentions of being embarrassed and feeling humiliated.

WORDCOUNT: 1403 words

NOTE: all for sona tbh!!!!!! 😜 ty my taco twin @soov for proofreading 😊

THE IRKSOME SOUND OF YOUR A-STRING SNAPPING PIERCED THROUGH YOUR EARS.

To you, it was unpleasant—vastly unpleasant. However, for Sunoo, that was not the case. He sat at the sidelines of the stage with other violinists, watching you with an amused yet sly smirk.

You couldn’t continue your performance like this, nothing would sound good. Still, you gracefully grazed your bow against the violin’s three perfect strings and its flimsy one.

Every stroke made you, the judges, and the audience cringe. The screeching sounds weren’t something people would offer to hear on their own will.

Once you were done, you brought your violin and your bow down in front of you, bowing in appreciation.

Usually, you would be grateful that they enjoyed your performance. But today you were grateful they were able to sit through the whole thing. If that were you, you wouldn’t dare to stay any longer.

You took your seat, joining the group of violinists, taking note of Sunoo’s smirk in the distance. You would’ve said something that would wipe that smirk right off his face, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t dare to do so.

One word and the river of tears would escape.

You tuned out the next few performances, fighting back the urge to sob on the spot. Although it was hard, you still managed to stay put. You couldn’t embarrass yourself even further, that would only fuel Sunoo’s amusement.

The practice room was quiet and empty. The lights were dimmed and the blinds were closed. You sat in front of your assigned music stand with a pack of A-strings at your feet and your violin on your lap.

Frustration made its way through your system as you fiddled with the strings. All you had to do was switch out the A-string for another one. Normally, you were good at that, but your vision keeps blurring, making everything harder to function with.

The embarrassment from your performance still stayed with you, but somehow felt worse. You were sad and felt humiliated, especially in front of Sunoo.

The doors opened and footsteps approached you, but you were unaware.

The sound of a violin playing filled your ears, the song sounding oh so familiar. Why? Maybe it's because that was your performance song.

You looked up, making eye contact with the culprit, Kim Sunoo. No one was shocked. Of course, it was him. This wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this.

“What do you need?” You asked, looking away and back at the stripped of strings violin. He crossed his arms while eyeing your movements. You were most definitely struggling.

“I see you’re having some difficulty. I’m sure if your string didn’t snap on stage, you would be beaming. Correct?” Sunoo asked in a teasing tone while you stayed silent.

“That must feel terrible—for you, I mean. Not for me. Best believe I got a 100 on my performance.” He boasted, eyes practically gleaming with satisfaction.

As much as you didn’t want to listen to his words, you had no choice. He wasn’t wrong about anything he said. You were always beaming when you heard your results because they were never bad.

You practiced for so long, fingers even developing small blisters on them everyday. Was all your hard work just a waste of your time? It helped Sunoo win easily, so, was playing violin really your thing or his?

“You should’ve seen the look on your face—utter fear.” He said, chuckling at the replay in his mind.

You began to blink fervently, cursing at the tears that threatened to fall. You couldn’t seem so vulnerable in front of Sunoo, your rival. He wouldn’t let that go forever.

“So,” Sunoo began while heading your way. The closer he got, the harder it was to blink away the tears, one eventually falling down your cheek.

Wonderful. You failed.

You looked away at the sound of his body colliding with the chair across from you. He took the music sheets in front of you, reading them over.

“An A note, yet you played a D note… Surely, this must’ve been out of panic.” He said with a sigh. It was an irritating noise, you hated it.

His gaze shifted to your flimsy movements as you tried adjusting the strings of the violin, letting out a soft chuckle.

“Aren’t you usually good at this?” He asked, pointing at the way your fingers constantly slipped away from each other.

You hated how he was practically able to read right through you; he was aware of how you felt after satisfying results, how good you were at switching out your violin strings, what exact note you messed up at and what notes you switched out of panic.

What else did he know? Your tears were streaming down your face?

Your hands faltered, your shoulders subtly shaking. He watched your movements, confused. You weren’t bickering with him as usual nor were you sending him petty glares.

“Alright, what’s wrong—” His words were silenced by the sudden sob that made its way out of your lips, causing his eyes to widen at the noise as they kept coming.

He placed the music sheets in his lap, unsure of what to do. Truly, he felt terrible. Although he couldn’t see your face, he knew it wasn’t the best sight.

Your hand raised to wipe away at the stream of tears, ruining whatever the stylist had done prior to your performance.

He sat there frozen. He didn’t move an inch, thinking that would make it worse if he did.

“This is embarrassing.” You mumbled, sucking up your sadness and going back to your violin. You tried your best to put back the performance, failing every time.

Once again, you began to cry. You were frustrated at the strings, embarrassed at your performance and that you were crying in front of your worst nightmare, but you couldn’t fight your tears any more.

“Hey,” Sunoo called, gaining your attention. He hesitated on his next move. What if that only made you cry even more?

“I’m sure my words made you feel terrible…” He began, crouching down before you and his hand slowly making its way to your face.

“I apologize.” He said while gently thumbing at your tears. It was weird.

Sunoo should’ve found this amusing, but he didn’t. He felt terrible and his heart ached at the sight before him.

If this took place during the first day you both met, he wouldn’t care enough to bat you and your sobbing figure in the eye. Not even a glance.

He wouldn’t care. So, why did he care right now? It’s only been 7 months since you two first met, and everyday, the tempo in his heart raised when he puts his eyes on you.

“I’ll be honest, your performance wasn’t bad at all. It sounded pleasant at the beginning. Once your string broke, I wouldn’t lie about me being quite worried.” He explained, his other hand now on your cheek and thumbing away at the tears.

“Although it sounded nothing like the song, you still managed to persevere and perform something, right? It was very impressive.” He said as your eyes looked into his whole being filled with tears.

That explained the sly yet amused smirk.

“Certainly, if that were me on the stage, I’d choke. You did better than me, I’m being serious.” A slight smile made its way to his face as he spoke.

“Now, stop crying. Put the performance behind and proceed as if it never happened. You’ll get another try, okay?” He reassured you, thumbing away at the last tear.

Even if he was supposed to hate you right now and you were supposed to hate him, you both couldn’t. You never saw this side of him and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart skip a beat. Plus, he couldn’t do it either.

Is this what his friends meant when they said he was definitely in love? He constantly used the excuse of bickering with you just to talk to you. He loved the facial expressions you made mid argument, they truly fueled his will to live.

“Here, I’ll help you.” He got up from his seat, moving to the chair beside you. He took your violin from your lap, placing it in his as you watched him attentively.

“Thank you,” you thanked as he smiled.

“You’re welcome.”

Ξ © HAKNOM, 2023.

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#k-films #k-labels #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen #sunoo enhypen #kim sunoo x reader #enhypen sunoo #kim sunoo fluff #sunoo x reader #sunoo fluff #sunoo angst #enhypen angst #kim sunoo #enha sunoo #sunoo enha #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha angst #enha #kpop angst #kim sunoo imagines #sunoo imagines #sunoo #sunoo scenarios #kim sunoo enhypen #kim sunoo scenarios

[sleepyhutcherson]

wish i wasn’t so tired

on your way back home an argument between you and mike gets heavy when the words “this isn’t love, is it?” slips from one of you.

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

word count: 1.2k

contains: argument, use of y/n, miscommunication, angst, reference to marriage, not a happy ending? boygenius lyrics being referenced </3

a/n: tired of writing fluff (jk i love fluff) but i come from a miserable fandom (before i entered the jhutch one) aaand im so used to writing heavy angst. anyway, i should be working on my request not this but :p

What a perfect scenery to go with the intense argument. the rain angrily hits against the window drowning out any sound with the harshness of it. Unfortunately, not enough to drown your voice nor Mike’s, the rain mimicking the aggression and anger of your voices.

“I don’t remember,” Mike repeats, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight enough his knuckles turned white. He was speeding, trying to get home.

“I just want to know what happened! You came home with your knuckles busted, blood everywhere and you’re suddenly unemployed, and you won’t even tell me what happened?!” You're facing him but his focus is on the road (as it should) and there’s this dull, emotionless expression on his face that makes you feel alone.

He doesn’t say anything and for a moment you think maybe he won’t say anything at all. He continues driving, his gaze fixated on the road while you stare at him feeling so stupid. You close your eyes, wishing you could disappear from this moment. Wishing you could just apologise to him, but you knew better, you had no reason to apologise to him. You were just concerned about him, you just wanted to know why his knuckles were bloody.

You blink when you realise Mike is pulling to the side of the road, putting the car in park.

“This isn’t love, is it?” Mike asks, meeting your eyes now. There’s a sadness to them that you’re familiar with, you see those sad brown eyes whenever he’s overwhelmed, stressed, tired of work, when his aunt calls, when abby ignores him after an argument but never towards you.

And those words. the question. The genuine curiosity to his tone when he asked it.

“W-What?” You stammer, hoping that maybe you misheard him. But you knew you didn’t.

“I mean, all we do is argue.” You sit up straight, turning away from Mike. You stare straight forward, you wish the road wasn’t so empty maybe you could distract yourself by looking for different licences plates.

You swallow, your throat dry suddenly. “Then what is it?” If it’s not love then what it is?

None of you have a response which only makes it worse. You loved mike, you really did, you never doubted that. There was a moment a few months ago where the two of you referenced getting married soon, Mike giddy about proposing, and you were over the moon about the idea.

And now?

Mike loves you, he’s never felt so in love with someone until he met you, never felt more loved by anyone else but you. But recently, his job has been killing him and he’s only worked at it for three days. his sleeping schedule is fucked, he isn’t ever really sleeping like most people do, not in the way that one falls asleep to get rest but in the way that he’s going back to the same dream every night looking for something—or, someone, in his case. His aunt is trying to take custody of Abby and he can’t let that happen but God he’s so fucking scared.

But he won’t say any of this to you. Not about how stressed he’s been, how tired, how scared and sad. Fuck’s sake you don’t even know that he could lose custody of Abby.

“Maybe it isn’t,” You say, not daring to turn to look at Mike. “But can…can I at least pretend that you love me?” Your voice is small, ready to break.

Mike’s brows furrow, he can hear the hurt in your voice. He hates hurting you. He can never just shut the fuck up can he? He didn’t mean to say what he did, he really didn’t. “Y/n, I… I do love you, so, so much.” Mike reaches for you, cupping your face, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes are watery, full of tears that are ready to spill.

“You do love me?” You ask, looking up, your eyes locked with Mike’s. He frowns at your words.

“I’ll always love you. I hate hurting you. I’m so sorry.” He says through a clenched jaw, his words a little sharp layered with a desperation to get you to believe him. He pulls you in, peppering kisses on your face. it’s not enough, he thinks, you deserve so much more than this—than him.

“Then why do you?” You whisper, bringing Mike to halt. He pulls from you, staring at you with the most hurt expression you think you’ve ever seen. “I just…just want to know you—to help you, but you’re always pushing me away.”

He looks down at his bruised knuckles with shame, falling quiet suddenly. You know about his brother, about the entire incident, and about his parents but he never told you just how much it all affected him. how it still affects him.

You place your hand over his, gently rubbing over the healing bruise. They looked nasty even after days, too vicious for Mike. He loves how you touch him, he doesn’t care that his knuckles sting at the touch because he longs for your touch, desperate for it. He becomes more needy for it while you two are arguing, he wishes he could just pull you in while you were biting at each other, wanting nothing more but to be held by you. He would allow you to continue to bite, he wouldn’t mind if you continued to sink your teeth into him; he would take the pain, endure it even…if you just held him.

“I’m sorry,” he manages to say, “I wish I wasn’t so tired...” he exhales, trying to keep his voice steady. “But I’m tired.” It comes out weaker than he hoped, his words falling and breaking.

“oh, Mike,” you sigh, reaching up and now it’s your turn: you cup his face, your other hand reaching up to run it through his curls. “Talk to me. you know that’s what i’m here for.” You keep your tone gentle, stroking his cheek softly with your thumb.

Mike knows this. he knows that if he could talk to anyone that it would definitely be you. He just can’t. he doesn’t understand it either, doesn’t know why he can’t just open up.

He doesn’t want to talk, not really. He doesn’t want you to think he’s broken. he doesn’t want you to know how much of a mess he is, how he thinks his life is slowly falling apart right now. How he might lose custody of his little sister. How he’s looking for his brother in his dreams that are turning into nightmares. How he thinks he may be losing you, too.

“Can we just go home?” He croaks, his eyes welling up with tears. He doesn’t want to cry. He doesn’t want you to see him cry either.

You frown. You just wanted to be there for him, you wish he would let you help him, if that’s too much for him then you’ll sit there and listen. You just wanted to know what was hurting him, who hurt him. God, you just wish you could read his mind.

You frown when he pulls away from you starting up the car. You just wanted to help. You wanted to take whatever struggles he had, most of all you wanted to know what he was struggling with. What was bothering him? If only he talked to you. But clearly he wasn’t going to open up anytime soon.

You force an “okay,” accepting your loss.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt comfort #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt fluff #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie

[edensbuttercups]

Thank you - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a pretty long time, but finally it has been completed and I'm not too mad about it, which I deem a success. I've been trying to keep busy and write more, so if there's any requests, ideas, thoughts, anything really, I'm more than glad to read about them and discuss them or write about them ♡

(Also can you tell I suck at titles? Because I can)

Words: 1.8k

He sat on the edge of the sofa, tears threatening to fall from his eyes, sighing in disbelief at his realisation. He had lost them. His dad’s sunglasses. Gone. He looked everywhere, from the bedroom, to his jacket, his car, everywhere. He looked in each room, and the most he had found was some coins that had slipped into the kitchen drawer and some receipts that had been lying in one of his jackets for way too long.  

It felt stupid for one moment, clinging on to an object that meant so little to so many people, but that was one of the things that made him feel the most at home. Even in his rarer moments of fear, the way the world assumed a tinted colour while he wore them comforted him enough to push on, making him feel closer to everything that he had lost. His fingers shook as he took a steady breath, standing up once again and looking around the room. Trying to retrace each step of the previous day, he stood dumbfounded when he realised that he had no clue when he last even had them on. He felt his chest tighten at the realisation, and this somehow felt worse than what he had gone through on that goddamn mission. This felt worse, and he couldn’t breathe, and all he could do was close his eyes and go back to last evening, hoping, really hoping that he could somehow retrace his steps.

“Over here!” you waved your hand over your head in an almost theatrical way, catching his attention from just outside the Hard Deck. You had agreed on meeting here as soon as he was done, and both of you had found a way to finish just a little ahead of schedule, wanting to spend some quality time after a few days of barely seeing each other because of work. He beamed when he saw you in that dress, one of his favourites, and ran the rest of the way, opening his arms wide to catch you in a hug and spin you around. His lips peppered soft kisses along your cheeks before settling for your lips, pulling you closer, not fully intending on letting you go. “Babe, we should go.” You tried to interject, loving the tickling sensation his moustache offered but painfully aware of how close the time was to inching to your reservation. “I told them 8pm sharp. And it’s-“ “7:39, honey. I know what I’m doing.” He cracked a smile and winked at you, his sunglasses slipping lower as he did, gracing you with the sight of his hazel eyes. “You know I don’t like being late.” “It’s a 5 minute drive from here and the Bronco is ready for us.” “But what if-“ "Most people will be here tonight.” He pointed behind you, reading the small sign that Penny had put up. Fridays: Karaoke night. All of the aviators had been challenging each other for the past month, choosing the cheesiest songs they could and making Fridays their night, singing their hearts out and enjoying the time together. And yet Rooster would rather have you to himself than humiliate Hangman at Karaoke.

The restaurant was basically empty and you were basically on time (with a whopping three minutes to spare, because yes, you had arrived early, but you also ended up in each other’s arms for some time, whispering sweet nothings and sharing kisses before finally leaving the car), and the waiter so kindly showed you your table, the view of the sea and the soft crashing of the waves in the distance lulling you into a comfortable silence. You ordered and talked for most of the evening, catching up on what had happened in the past few days, laughing at how into his storytelling Bradley got, gesturing around as he spoke.  Once you recovered from your laughter you peaked down, seeing the small thing you had gotten earlier today for Bradley, smiling when you remembered about it.  “You know, I was forgetting actually but… I got you something.” He laughed, raising his hands and insisting that you didn’t have to get him anything. “It’s a date, no gifts needed.” “I know, but I saw this and it reminded me of you.”  You reached down for your bag and pulled the shirt up, smiling as he reached over to grab it, unfolding it to inspect it. It was simple, yet way more colourful than his favourite beige Hawaiian shirt. This one was dark blue and scattered with birds and flowers, some of the threads of gold, the material light and breezy, perfect for a summer evening. You watched as his eyes crinkled in adoration, absolutely adoring your choice. He peeled the shirt he was currently wearing and slipped the new one on. “It’s so elegant.” “You’re the only one that could call a Hawaiian shirt elegant, Roos.” “No, but come on, it’s fancy!” “It is fancy.” You laughed, seeing his excitement. “I love it.” “I’m happy you do.” you replied, your smile growing. “I love you.” he muttered, leaning over the table to kiss you, his hand cupping your cheek, feeling your smile at the gesture before reaching down to take his shirt off, substituting it with his new one, the colours making his skin glow. 

“Honey, I’m home!” You joked from the door, walking into your house and coming to a halt when you saw Rooster standing in the middle of the living room, eyes scrunched up in concentration as he looked ahead, not yet aware of your presence. “Baby?” You walked over and shook him lightly, worried when his eyes found yours and one of the tears slipped from his eyes, his breathing picking up once more and inching towards frantic, the air escaping his lungs faster than he could take more in. “Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.” “My glasses.” He said, and you could see the tension in his jaw, an attempt at keeping it together. He hated when his emotions got the best of him, knowing how he should be able to be calm and collected, but sometimes he just couldn’t. And when that sometime was over something as relatively silly as this? That made it worse. You reached up to wipe a tear from his cheek, leaning over to kiss him softly. “It’s okay, we’ll find them. You had them yesterday.” you said, remembering when you had met before going out. He had them on when he kissed you, and he had them on until he climbed into the Bronco, slipping them in his shirt’s pocket. You went over the night aloud, adding some comments here and there to try to get him to smile, like how how pretty he looked when he picked you up wearing them, or how he definitely had them when he made out with you, almost making you late_, barely getting a reaction from him, but still proud of the slight twitch in his lips. “Your new shirt.” You said, finally stopping your ramble and glancing up at him, one hand up at the connection you made. “I already checked, they’re not-” “No, I mean, I gave you the new shirt last night. You took them off before that.” You tried to think back to when you got home. It was late, and you had drank, which made this task harder, especially when all you could truly focus on was the way he had held you once you walked through the door, his hands holding you steady as you slipped your shoes off, the darkness surrounding both of you as you made your way to the bedroom.  You reached the bedroom, looking down on the floor. No shirt there, but… “The car? Did you check in the-?” “Yes.” he interrupted you, tone harsh and frustrated. “Bradley.” You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed while stopping your movements. You knew he was frustrated, you knew he was panicking, but you were only trying to help. “I’m sorry.” You nodded. You knew he was, and his tone was honest, no matter how harshly that also came out as. “Help me look. Where did you leave your shirt? The old one.” you specified this time, taking a deep breath. “Laundry.” He pouted slightly, aware of your intent in helping him, but still annoyed and upset about the situation. He wasn’t panicking anymore though, which he was thankful for.

You nodded once more, walking into the bathroom and stopping the washing machine, waiting for some of the water to drain before opening it, rummaging through in search. “Here it is!” you exclaimed victoriously, pulling out his shirt, soapy and drenched, eyes on him. You watched him as his expression changed from stern to relieved, his eyes softening and welling up when he saw the familiar outline in the dripping pocket, kneeling alongside you and pulling them out. A soapy mess, but intact and fine and perfect. “See, it all worked out.” You said, placing a hand on his arm, letting out a squeal when he pulled you in his arms, trapping the wet shirt in between your bodies. Neither of you cared, his relief making his grumpy mood immediately vanish, and the feeling of being in your arms making your victory all the more worth it. “I love you.” He muttered into your shoulder, holding you close. “I know it was silly, sorry for how I acted.” “Roos.” You pulled away, searching for his eyes, placing your hand on his cheek. “I know what they mean to you. You’ve had them for your whole life. They’re important to you, and anything that is important to you is not silly, not to me. Okay?”  He smiled at your words, nodding. “And I love you too.” You added with a smile. “Good.” he chuckled lightly, standing and bringing you up with him, the shirt falling with a plop onto the floor. “We should probably get out of these wet clothes, right?” He asked with a smirk, drying his sunglasses on the bit of his shirt that was still dry, gently placing them on the bridge of his nose with a charming smile, his hand trailing up your arm, slipping under the strap of your dress. He let his mouth fall agape when the strap slipped down your arm, pretending to be surprised by his own action. “You're unbelievable.” you said back, smirking yourself as you reached nonetheless for his shirt, pulling the material up to reveal his skin.  "And you love that." he winked, laughing.Shirt and dress discarded, he couldn’t help but look at you, pulling you back against him, his arms tight around you. “Thank you.” He whispered again, holding onto you for just a moment longer, before picking you up and taking you to the bedroom, knowing just how he could thank you.

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfic #rooster x y/n #rooster imagine #rooster fanfic #top gun imagine #top gun fanfic #tgm #top gun maverick fanfiction

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

what he deserves, chapter 3

Sanji x Reader, a bit of Law x Reader

Warnings: angst, one-night stand, not really a love triangle – law and reader are mature about the situation. Some implied smut.!!!! WANO SPOILERS!!!!!

a/n: this will be several parts. Leave comment for tags.

Summary: Witnessing all the suffering Sanji went through on Whole Cake Island, all you want is for him to be truly happy…even if it means not with you. Set after the fight in Wano, you go through the motions of an endless fight and end up in bed with the Hearts Pirates’ Captain to distract yourself from the one thing you want the most – Sanji.

masterlist

The village was lively; Otama showed you around since you hadn’t had a chance since landing in Wano. Her hand was glued to yours, pointing out different homes and who they belonged to. She went on and on about how great her big bro Luffy was and how full her belly had been from the last three days of eating. Her smile put into perspective how vast the world was and how this country, this village, was just one small story among millions. There were more stories like Otama’s, more people to help and when you glanced over to Luffy – who was busy devouring his fifth bowl of rice, you knew he’d be the one to liberate everyone. Leaving her to go to the man’s side, you wandered off toward the edge of the village – where the trees were high and shading. Needing some time alone, you walked further into the forest and then perched yourself down near a small pond. Sitting on the ground, your eyes drew closed.

Moments flashed in your mind, memories flowing like a stream. A smile burned through your heart thinking of the crew…Merry…than Sunny… All the arguing and laughing among the seas you all traveled. The best moments in your life were had on the ship but hidden in the cracks of memories were the ones of your family. Biological family. Pain sears through your soul and for a moment, you thought you could smell your mother’s perfume, father’s cigars. You loved them once and you were sure they loved you, but people can become the worst versions of themselves.

And never come back.

For years, you were always on your own. Fending for yourself – being hurt by others, sometimes far worse than what your parents did to you. The physical scars always heal but damage the heart, that was harder to mend. The pond was still, too still for your liking, so you swat a hand into it. Ripples catered to your needs, and you inhaled the air, lungs filling with relief than the tears fell from your eyes. Body shaking, fingers digging into the dirt, all you can do is just sob. Cry until you collapsed onto your back; eyes stung as you stared up past the tree line. It was getting dark, and you felt sleepy, even though you had slept so much last night. Still, there was an incredible tiredness that came over you and it only took a few minutes before you fell asleep…

Crickets woke you up.

How soft their sounds usually were, you were surprised by how loud they were when no one was around. It was dark, moon high and above the trees. Your back ached from the ground and when you sat up, your head felt dizzy. You yawned, getting up from your feet to tug on your kimono; it was dirtied from your nap. Stretching your arms, you felt energetic and started back toward the village – it was a short ten-minute walk, and the village was quiet. The streets were empty sans a few folks walking back to their homes, Luffy was nowhere to be found.

 Shit. Realizing it might be later than you initially thought, you didn’t bother asking anyone if they had seen your captain or gone looking for Otama. Going back to the inn seemed like the best choice but as you moved past the homes, you noticed two young girls in front of their home. They looked no older than sixteen and when you drew closer to them, you saw that one was giving the other a haircut. You stopped and watched, the one getting her hair cut smiled at you. She looked so content and free; eyes filled with a hope of a better future and her hair…it looked good shorter. Asking if you could be next in line, the would-be hairdresser grinned. “Of course.”

An hour later, you stood in front of the inn; your once long hair cut under your chin. It was a drastic change, even a bit severe but losing those inches of hair felt freeing. Being among other women who have been ruled by others, being free by the same man that freed you – it felt electric. You needed this and when you walked into the inn, you hadn’t expected to be rushed by Nami. Her arms flung around your shoulders, and she cursed you under her breath.

“Everyone was so worried.”

Confused, you hugged her back, fingers running through her hair. She pulled back and gawked at your head, asking what you had done to your hair. You laughed. “It’s called a haircut. The real question is why you were so worried, I was only gone for a bit. When did Luffy get back?”

“Eight hours ago!”

She explained that when Luffy came back right before sunset, he said he didn’t know where you were. Everyone figured you were just around. “Or with Law but even he didn’t know where you were! He had gone out to look for you too. Sanji’s been worried, he was the first to go out to find you. Where the hell have you been!”

Chopper rushed into the inn’s entry way and summoned you to the other room for an examination – in tears, asking if you were hurt. Kneeling in front of him, you patted his head three times, just the way he liked it and told him you were fine. “I just fell asleep in the forest.”

Nami scoffed. “Apparently got a haircut on her way back too.”

“Does it look that bad?”

You stood up and looked at the navigator, she glared at you for a long time before giving into a smile. It was cute, she said, and you felt relieved – a bad haircut might set you off again but before you could thank her, Robin and Brook walked in. Both were pleased to see you; the latter urged you to go outside. “The others are on their way; they’ll be happy to see you.”

Following him outside, the rest trailed behind you – Robin noting how pretty your new locks were. Smiling, you walked into the streets and looked in the direction Brook pointed towards. The first person you saw was Luffy and before your eyes could register the figures next to him, his hands grabbed a hold of your shoulders. Knowing what was about to happen, true fear set in as he screamed your name – no doubt waking up every person in the vicinity of the inn. A unison of shouting and pleading from the crew did nothing to sway Luffy’s determination to hug you. All that there was left to do was accept your fate. Bracing yourself, your eyes closed shut and seconds later his entire body seemed to be wrapped around yours. He felt heavy but when you tripped back there were two arms holding you up. Thinking it was Robin, you giggled as you were pushed back into a standing position. Everyone laughed. When Luffy finally released you, the owner of the hands was revealed to be Sanji. He asked if you were alright, chastising Luffy. “You could have hurt her, you moron!”

He slipped his hands away from you, eyes taking in your hair. His heart galloped in a way it never had but he pushed it back the feeling and asked where you had been. You confessed the nap you had taken, and he smiled warmly. A hint of earnestness swept his eyes when you apologized for making him worry. “For making you all go out looking for me,” you added.

“As if we’d leave you behind,” Usopp chimed; you looked to him and mouthed a ‘sorry’. He knew you meant for earlier and he just grinned at you – all was forgiven. Then like the sap you were, tears started to flow alarming everyone. Zoro demanded you to stop crying, but you knew it was only because it was making him uncomfortable. Sanji told him to shut up and placed an arm around your shoulder, asking if you were hurt.

Hurt?

No, you were…happy.

Happy to be with your family and more importantly, happy to be wanted.

Brushing tears from your cheeks, you looked at everyone than to Sanji. “I’m pretty hungry…”

….

The inn’s kitchen was cozy, you sat on a wooden stool watching as Sanji cooked. He had long rid himself of the yellow yukata he had worn for most of his time in Wano; he now wore black slacks and a white, loose button up. Sleeves rolled up his forearm and the first two buttons of the shirt undone. He looked relaxed as he cooked a small dinner for you; neither of you speaking but comfortable enough to enjoy the silence. His hands moved effortlessly, and you studied his every move, moves you had longed memorized. All the times you spent with him in the kitchen, asking questions but confessing you weren’t much of a cook. He smiled when you said that.

“That’s fine, I can do all the cooking.”

Now, he worked diligently – cigarette perched in the corner of his mouth.

“We were all pretty worried when you didn’t’ come back with Luffy.” He spoke but didn’t look up from dicing potatoes for the soup he was making you. “At first, we thought you had gone out on your own, but then it took Luffy an hour to mention that he had lost track of back at Otama’s village. That’s when everyone started to freak out. With everything that’s happened…it seems we’re all on edge.”

“I’m sorry…”

Sanji looked up from his work, eyes a bit sad. “Don’t be sorry for having people that care about you.”

“Then you shouldn’t either,” you snapped back much to Sanji and your surprise. He stopped dicing and placed the knife down. Neither of you knew what to say next, but neither of you could look away from each other. It felt like a standoff with words, both of you trying to figure out what to say next. Then he resided and continued to cook, and for ten minutes no words were spoken until Sanji finally broke the silence.

“Why did Nami lie about you being there when we talked through the mirror dimension?”

Heart racing, you fought the urge to avoid his eye contact, avoid him all together and run upstairs but your feet were frozen to the wood floor. Gripping the edge of the stool, you told him you asked her to lie and when he asked why, you wished lies could roll off your tongue. “Because I was angry at you. Angry that you had no faith in Luffy or us or me to help you.”

“They threatened Zeff, threatened you all.” They being his awful family. Sanji’s head hung low, hands on the small kitchen island. “I couldn’t let them get to him, Luffy, the others…you…. I – I couldn’t…”

Your heart ached for Sanji and all you wanted to do was go to him, hold him, absorb his pain but again, you couldn’t move. A woman frozen. Dread riddled your bones as he looked up to you, eyes pleading for you to understand. God, you did, you did but…

“You were going to go through with it,” you whispered, tears forming. Letting go of the stool, you held a hand to your chest and trembled. “You were going to go through with the wedding because they wanted you to. The family that discarded you. You told me how awful they were to you, Sanji.”

“But I had to…”

“I understand why you did it,” you admitted, wiping away a stray tear. “I do. But you didn’t even give Luffy a chance, give me a chance to help you. Not from the start. Didn’t you realize that we would do anything for each other? Was not that evident enough after all this time? We are your family, Sanji. We are. Not those awful people and not that awful girl.”

Sanji couldn’t comprehend the scene before him – the tears in your eyes, the look of devastation on your face, or the pain in his heart. He couldn’t form words, let alone a sentence but somehow, he managed to speak and the instant he did, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Even if he had said it out of nerves, trying to ease the tension. It would be something he’d regret until the end of time, but he couldn’t grasp the knowledge that you might feel the same as him – couldn’t be possible.

“She wasn’t so awful.”

His response to the heart pouring you just did stun the nerves in your system and all you could do was laugh. A low, melancholy laugh. Willing the tears away, you stood up from the stool and smiled softly at the startled cook. “Well, then, maybe Usopp was right. Maybe you should have married Pudding. You’re the kindest person I know Sanji and if you couldn’t warm her heart, no one could. I’m not feeling so hungry anymore. Goodnight.”

The cigarette fell from his mouth onto the cutting board as he watched you exit the kitchen; he wanted to call out to you, beg for your forgiveness. Yet, the shame of even mentioning Pudding kept him where he stood. He listened to the sound of your sandals clicking until he could no longer hear it, and when the coast was clear, he allowed the tears to flow freely. He didn’t know if it was possible to even come back from a conversation like this one. Or if you’d ever be willing to speak to him again and he wasn’t so sure he even deserved a second chance.

......

tags:

@stuckinthewrongworld @theyluvmesblog

@synchronised-beat @hi3431

@fandomsunited @ghostercy

@yuki190 @bowscale @utakamo

@fire-child-kira @cheshireshiya

@teenyforestfairy @sukilovesyou

@69cocktimusprime @littlemissfiore @kodzuchim

@angeiisa @bitchycoffeepainter69

@secretlife028 @idiot-sanwich02

@abandonedbrat @breens-nick

@bocchi-the-heart @sseleniaa

@depression-247 @sweetgurl1623-blog-blog

@punem69 @themossiestchick @sweetcoldmelancholy

@sanjipudinzinho @baelien-queen

@kodzuchim @kfcmuncha @bloodysweetcat

@angeiisa @gingersnap126126

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if you want off, let me know!

#what he deserves series #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji #one piece #law x reader #trafalgar law

[thissortofsorcery]

@intothedysphoria has inspired me to write about autistic!harringrove, and my own experiences with autism... Max, this is for you! I hope you like it!

tw for anxiety and sensory overwhelm, but it ends fluffy, I promise.

---

It started as a normal day, but it quickly derailed from there.

An asshole at work approached Billy from behind and clapped his hand around the nape of his neck, despite Billy having told him several times he didn’t like that.

Billy didn’t like being touched at all, by most people. And some people had no concept of personal space.

A horrible, painful shiver cut through his spine, icy cold and almost slimy, and Billy held back a shudder. He broke out in goosebumps, and only years and years of practice, of putting on the charm let him pull away from the dickhead graciously, laugh at whatever he said and keep himself together until he could hide away in a bathroom stall.

Billy presses his fingers to his closed eyes hard, seeing stars, and rubs the back of his neck vigorously, trying to replace that cold shiver with something else. Tears spring to his eyes, and he feels so fucking frustrated.

Finding out you’re autistic in your twenties is an experience. A lot of things start making sense, and a lot of things you pushed down and convinced yourself weren’t a problem spring back up like a jack-in-the-box, a hundred times worse.

Like the touch thing. It’s not that Billy doesn’t like being touched. He just doesn’t like being touched by people he doesn’t know, and for no reason.

Like, his physical therapist, when she was helping him regain dexterity in his hands after Starcourt, that was fine.

Some dude in the office touching his neck, even casually, not so much.

Billy takes a deep breath, tries to remember the self-care workbook he and Steve filled out together a couple months ago. Tries to calm down.

Three ways I can distract myself when someone touches me, he’d written, glancing back up at Steve with a smile. Happy they were doing it together.

Loud music + puzzle

Hot drink

Yelling

Steve laughed and shook his head (“it’s very you”) when Billy wrote down the last one, but it really did help.

Billy gives himself a few more moments in the stall before he slinks out, heading to the sinks and splashing cold water on his face. The sensory shock helps a little, the cool, pleasant feeling helping balance the sensation of something crawling under his skin.

He checks if the break room is empty before he goes in, and it thankfully is. He doesn’t want to run into anyone. Doesn’t think he has it in him to mask right now.

Billy makes himself a mug full of scalding hot coffee and hurries back to his office, avoiding eye contact with anyone who throws out a hello. So what if they think he’s angry. Maybe he is pissed.

He manages to spend the rest of the day locked in his office, headphones on, and only comes out when it’s time to go home.

Of course, all he wants is to see Steve, wants his comforting presence, even if they’ve been dating only three months. When he walks through the door of Steve’s house, he sees Steve sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, wearing his ugly vomit green socks with raccoons on them, that he’s had since he was 15 and won’t get rid of.

A wave of relief crashes through him, nearly leaving him dizzy. He breathes deep, catches the smell of his clean house, laundry, and Steve.

“Hey baby,” Steve calls, laying his head on the back of the couch to look at him, making his glasses just a little bit crooked. “Bad day?”

“Does my face look that terrible?” Billy grumbles, taking his shoes off at the entryway before he steps into the living room.

“Your headphones are around your neck,” Steve points to them, a smile ticking up the corner of his mouth.

Oh. Billy forgot to put them away. He doesn’t need them in the car.

He sighs and throws himself down next to Steve, a careful, deliberate distance away.

“I’m just ‘whelmed,” Billy mumbles.

“Overwhelmed?”

“Not anymore. Just whelmed,” He says, sighing again. His body sags, melting against the cushions. He doesn’t feel shivery anymore, but he feels tired, like he’s on the bad end of an all-nighter.

Steve puts his hand on the cushion between them, palm up, not touching Billy.

Billy takes a deep breath, watching Steve’s hand. He knows that hand intimately, knows it to be warm and soft and kind, knows how its skin feels against Billy’s, the friction making the shivers good instead of bad.

He puts a tentative fingertip on Steve’s pointer finger, and all Steve does is press back, smiling gently.

Billy slides his fingers in between Steve’s, laces them together, holds his hand palm to palm, and feels the touch of his skin like they’re buzzing together.

Billy knows he can change his mind, and all Steve’s gonna do is smile, sit on his side of the couch, and continue the conversation.

“How’s that book you were working on going?” Steve asks. He rubs his thumb over the back of Billy’s hand once, and stops. When Billy squeezes his hand, he resumes the movement, sending pleasant tingles up Billy’s arm.

“Good. The writer was receptive to what I said. They sent me a couple reworked chapters today,” Billy says, moving closer to Steve, so their arms press together.

As the conversation goes on, Billy presses closer and closer, at his own pace, and Steve accepts it crumb by crumb.

He doesn’t know what he did to deserve Steve, or how Steve is so patient with him. Steve loves physical contact. Billy does, too, but he’s so particular about it that sometimes he wonders if he’s even worth sticking around for.

Billy ends up lying on top of Steve, chest to chest, nose tucked into his throat, breathing in his warmth and his scent.

“Don’t touch my neck, okay?” He asks, hunching his shoulders a little.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve says, easy as that. “Can I touch your hair?”

“Yeah.”

Steve turns his head and kisses Billy’s head, right on the hairline, pulling a deep, content sigh from him.

“Thanks, Stevie,” Billy says, squeezing his ribs just a little tighter. “For doing this for me. Being patient.”

Steve looks down at him, frowning slightly.

“‘Course. You shouldn’t— You don’t have to thank me,” He says, earnest. “It’s not a chore, Billy. You’re not…” He licks his lips, trying to think. When he looks at Billy, it's like he's telling him a secret. “You make me happy. All of you.”

Billy’s smile is wide, stretching his full lips and showing his teeth, and Billy only drops it so he can kiss Steve.

They keep it chaste, an unhurried, soft press of lips, enjoying their intimacy and their closeness and their familiarity. Simple as it is, it's one of the best kisses he's had. Steve's the best person he's ever met.

When Steve touches him, he feels safe. Billy wants to keep him.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #autistic billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #billy x steve #sorcery writes #mine

[blegh-110]

Have I found you, flightless bird? (2/?)

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Tangerine x Fem!Reader

Summary: The night finally comes where Tangerine makes his move.

Chapter Warnings: Obsessive behavior, criminal activity, talk of nonconsensual drugging (let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: Happy Monday! Hope this makes your day a little better! Just fyi, I got a job so the next chapter might take a while to come out. Anyways, happy reading!! :)

Tangerine was feeling stressed. Really fucking stressed and worried.

If anyone knew he was an assassin, a brutal one at that, they would have found his state comical. Who knew that someone who kills others as an occupation is feeling sick to his stomach because the girl he likes is no more than fifteen feet away from him. 

Tangerine stares at the back of your head through the door for a few more seconds then goes into the bathroom to compose and settle himself down. Fixing any wrinkle in his coat, smoothing out his hair and mustache, as well as putting his rings and necklace into place. He needs to look absolutely perfect and presentable for you. 

Before he walks out and makes his way back to you, he reminds himself that there is no way he could lose you. He and Lemon made sure of it. They both had bought all the tickets for the night, so there were no other passengers on the train but you two. This will give Tangerine some alone time with you, as well as the chance for you to know him. He had also bought a ticket that had his assigned seat directly across from you. Next, they paid the workers to help him keep you on the train, as well as some more to keep their mouths shut after tonight. The last thing they did was ask and pay the conductor, who controls opening and closing the doors on the train, to keep the doors closed and locked the entire night. There is no way you were getting off the bullet train until you two arrived at Tangerine's home, which will soon become your new home.

While these thoughts were bouncing around in Tangerine’s head, you were sitting in your seat waiting for the train to take off when you realize just how empty the carriage is. Which surprises you. There would usually be at least half the seats taken, so seeing it empty was a bit weird. Especially when you look out the window and see hundreds of people in the streets. The difference makes you feel just a little uneasy and you start to get bored, so to distract yourself, you dig into your bag and pull out a book and begin reading. 

After the first few sentences, you start to get sucked into the story. It’s like the world around you slowly fades away and you are inserted into the novel. You eventually feel as though you aren’t even reading anymore because the words on the pages turn into a movie in your mind. You can clearly picture the descriptions of people and places, and feel what they feel, and-

“Excuse me, miss.” You hear someone say behind you, making you flinch in your seat at the sudden voice with an accent that sounded familiar. You place your book on the table before you turn around, and immediately want to disappear. It’s him again, you would’ve recognized that mustache anywhere. You feel a sense of deja vu as your cheeks heat up and your brain turns into mush as you stare up at him. God, he’s so handsome. 

What makes this situation worse was that after being so immersed into a book, you would often get a little woozy because the world had a wiggle to it for a few seconds. So you were feeling extra disoriented.

“I think my seat is across from you, love.” He says gently, giving you butterflies once again, and points to his seat. And just in a short amount of time, seconds, you felt a mixture of emotions. One, that feeling when you can’t breathe or think properly because there is an extremely attractive person in front of you and he called you love again. Two, the feeling of terror because that said person is going to be sitting three feet away from you and you have to somehow act like you’re heart isn’t about to explode. Three, despite the fear, there was a small part of you that was thrilled to have someone so perfect be so close. Plus, he smelled good and you were pretty sure you had already fallen in love with this man.

Meanwhile, Tangerine genuinely cannot believe he is in front of you. After weeks of looking at you from a distance, he can’t help but stare down at you and take you all in. And he isn’t subtle about it either. He feels no shame when his eyes wander from your hair to your nose to your lips and all over tired face. 

“Oh, okay.” You hope you sound normal and not like a nervous wreck. The man smiles at you and sits down. The sudden realization really sinks into you that he was going to be sitting across from you for however long. Could be twenty minutes, could be an hour. You just wish the burning in your face would go away, you were getting sweaty in such a short amount of time and it was uncomfortable. A part of you also curses him for choosing the seat across from you and not any of the empty ones all around you. 

As he’s settling in his seat and taking off his coat, you quickly pick your book up again, right in front of your face so he doesn’t see you, but don’t even try to read the text. You’re in no state of mind to comprehend any sort of sentence but you just want to take a moment and pull yourself together. But Tangerine doesn’t want to wait anymore than he should. While he understands that he probably should take his time at this stage, he doesn’t want to wait ten minutes sitting in silence, then make his move. 

He also thinks that at this point, you’re practically his and he’s yours now, so what’s the harm in speeding up the process just a little?

“My name is Tangerine, by the way. I’m gonna be here for a while, and I, uh, assume you are as well?” He made sure to talk quietly and slowly, not wanting to scare you off. Lemon had told him that he could be a little too straightforward, well, a lot actually. And to not dive straight into the abduction part of his plan. Tangerine was also well aware that you were a jumpy little thing, so he uses his tone and chooses his words carefully. 

“Tangerine?” Your eyes peek over your book and Tangerine resists the urge to coo at your shyness. While your agitation doesn’t completely go away, some of it is replaced with confusion. You had never heard such a name, but it was cute. And strangely fitting how someone so intimidating and with a large frame was nicknamed something small. 

Before answering, Tangerine decides he wants to mess with you a bit as he’s slightly entertained seeing you squirm in your seat and avoid any sort of contact. Although he isn’t as skilled as Lemon was with reading people, he can still see people’s true character and feelings to an extent. You also aren’t someone who is good at hiding their feelings, you’re an open book and that just made it easier for Tangerine to understand your personality more. 

He nods then tilts his head in faux uncertainty, “You know, you look really familiar. Have we met before?”

“Uh, yes, actually. Like three months ago, I think.”

Tangerine’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach, feeling offended that you don’t remember. Two months ago, He corrects you in his head.

“It was only a few seconds though.” You continue. 

Tangerine nods his head again, not putting away his confused expression and furrowed eyebrows which makes you nervous. He’s looking at you like you're doing something wrong, “You’re not stalking me, are you?” 

Now you’re really at a loss for words. What could you say to that? The answer was obviously no, but the question and his genuine concern shocks you to your core. And you’re aware that your lack of a quick answer makes you look suspicious and you start to feel even more nervous as his eyes are dead set on you. 

“I- no, I’m not I promise-” You shake your head and start but then cut yourself off when you see a smirk make its way on his face, one that makes your heart swoon but you also want to slap him for his “joke”. Even though this furthers you more into humiliation, you feel your lips curl into a smile that you try to hide by looking away outside the window. 

“That was really funny.” You try to say with indifference but you can’t help but smile widely and let out a breathy laugh that Tangerine wants to remember forever. 

He gazes at you for a little while longer. Which, at the moment, is difficult because you're facing away from him and hiding behind your hair. But through the strands, he can see a grin and you stifle a laugh. His concentration is soon broken when you both hear the sound of a door opening and Tangerine sees a woman pushing a cart with various colorful snacks and drinks.

You immediately sit up and dig back into your bag for your wallet, excited for your treats after another long and awful day at work. 

“Hello, would either of you like a snack or a drink?” The kind lady asks with a smile. Tangerine nods to you, silently telling you to go first while he reaches into his pocket for his own wallet.

“I’d like a fish biscuit, please, and a…” You pause for a moment, inspecting the numerous flavored sodas and juices in front of you and trying to decide which one sounded good. Tangerine smiles adoringly at you. He finds your serious expression absolutely adorable, the way your eyes went from bottle to bottle with furrowed eyebrows reminds him of a small but angry kitten. 

“I’ll have the mango juice. Thank you very much.” You say and are about to hand her the money when Tangerine speaks up suddenly. 

“I can get that for you, darling. Here you go,” Tangerine gives the woman five times as much money making your eyes widen, “May I have four more of those biscuits and juices, please?”

“Oh, no, you really don’t have to-” You begin but the woman is already placing five biscuits and five drinks on the table before she states that the train will be going in about a minute or so, then she leaves.

“I really don’t mind, it’s nice to have a friend right now,” Tangerine wants to shoot himself after saying friend. Just the thought of you being anything but his lover makes him feel irritated. But that sweet smile and starry eyes you give him as he pushes the pile of snacks towards you is enough to make his heart slow down. You’re too cute for your own good… and my own good, Tangerine thinks. “Also, think of this as an apology for my joke.” He refers to him asking you if you’ve been stalking him.

“Oh, yeah. That was really mean.” You say in a teasing tone while smiling. You reach for a biscuit and mango juice, ready to eat but the plastic wrapping around the lid slows you down.

“And I’m truly sorry for it, love.” His tone is nowhere near sympathetic and there is a small smirk on his face.

“Well you’re forgiven, and thank you, this is really nice of you, Tangerine.” You look at him shyly then quickly back down to the cap you’re still trying to open. He is so gorgeous and kind that it’s overwhelming to look at him longer than three seconds. 

You give up unwrapping the plastic from the cap with your hands and bring the bottle up to your mouth, ready to use your teeth to tear it when Tangerine stops you.

“No, don’t use your teeth. Give that to me.” He takes the bottle away from you and easily tears through the plastic, then gives it back. You let out a small thank you, once again, your heart fluttering at the smallest amount of his attentiveness he gives you. As you’re taking a sip, you watch Tangerine grab a fish biscuit and open it before placing it on a napkin and pushing it to you. Again, a small action that probably didn’t mean much to anyone, but it meant everything to you.

You can’t remember the last time someone showed you an ounce of kindness. And here this stranger is, treating you decently and raising your expectations of men in a blink of an eye. Even though you didn’t have much to offer, you want to repay his kindness back, so you do the same thing, minus the drink part because you struggle to open it.

“Well aren’t you a sweetheart, thank you.” Tangerine wants to lean across the table and kiss your warm cheeks when you push a biscuit and drink to him. You really were an angel, a silent dream. How you remained this way through your asshole coworkers and viscous parents, Tangerine does not know. He would have lost his shit long ago and taken his frustration out on anybody that crossed him.

Before he takes a bite, he takes his blue blazer off and rolls his sleeves up, revealing a couple tattoos and veins running down his forearm. You gulp and have to force yourself to look away, thinking how a man like him is real and attractive and at the same time, not insane or a jerk. 

“You’re welcome.” You say timidly and begin eating, trying not to stare. Tangerine chuckles at your response, finding your manners incredibly cute. 

“Also, sorry for having a seat so close to you, the guy selling me the ticket didn’t let me choose my seat.”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You give him another smile that goes straight to Tangerine’s heart and he withholds himself from wrapping his arms around you and wiping away the crumbs on your lips. 

-

For the next fifty minutes, it felt as though you and Tangerine were detached from the rest of the world. The two of you were completely caught up with each other, acting like little kids who liked one another. You listened intently to the stories Tangerine had about him and his brother, Lemon, when they were younger. You laughed at their silly antics and awed at how he talked about him like he was his whole world. And just by listening to Tangerine, you could easily tell that he’s the type of person who loves passionately. Growing up in a household where you saw your parents fighting more than anything, it was lovely to hear about their brotherly love. And you couldn’t help your mind wander off, wondering what it would be like to be loved by someone like Tangerine, or by Tangerine himself. 

You guys also talked about your own hobbies, which he surprisingly liked as well. You brought up Jersey Shore being your comfort tv show, which made Tangerine laugh and ask you why. And you explained that it was just mindless and entertaining television. Then you gave him the full rundown of the infamous note Jwoww and Snooki gave to Sammi Sweetheart in season two, this engrossed him completely, which made you laugh. 

Along with this, the books you read and loved, Tangerine did as well! You both discussed events and themes and different characters from different books. He even let you talk about ones you hadn’t read but wanted to. He listened to everything you had to say like it was the most important thing, because to him, it was. Tangerine had been on the sidelines watching you and doing nothing else for two months, and he was longing to know you. So he was more than content to sit back and let you ramble, he felt it was a privilege to hear you speak and know what you were thinking. 

You were aware that you were talking a lot and surprisingly, you liked the attention he was giving you. You liked the look he gave you with his chin in his palm and liked that he gave his own commentary and thoughts. This was the first human interaction you had where you didn’t want to run away or were waiting for it to end. 

It had not even been an hour, but for the first time in long while, you were happy. You hadn’t smiled widely for so long your cheeks hurt, or felt comfortable enough to want to tell Tangerine everything about yourself. It was overwhelming the emotions you felt, but at the same time it wasn’t enough. But even with this happiness, you felt it was only temporary. You knew that in about five minutes, the bullet train would be at your stop and you would have to get off and go back to your apartment all alone, most likely never seeing Tangerine again. These thoughts came up when the intercom announced that the bullet train will be stopping soon and you physically felt your high spirits evaporate.

“It was really nice getting to know you, Tangerine. Seriously, this has been the best part of my day.” You smile at him sadly as you get up from your seat when the train slows down. 

Tangerine doesn’t respond, instead he’s waiting for one of the workers to show up and do their job. He starts to become impatient and irritable, wondering where they were and why the fuck they were taking so long. As you’re gathering your stuff and putting on your coat, you hear the door to the carriage open and one of the workers comes through.

“Hello, I’m very sorry miss, but we can’t get the doors to open at the moment. They seem to be broken.” The woman says apologetically.

“That’s okay, I can just go through the next door.” You shrug and start to walk away when she quickly blocks you from going through the door to the next carriage, “None of them are opening right now, miss. Please sit down and we’ll begin our ride to the next stop.”

Your eyes widen, “The next stop?”

“Yes.” She smiles at you like this situation is not a big deal, like this is a normal day for her, which baffles you. She is about to leave when you're the one stopping her.

“Wait, can’t you just-I don’t know, stop the train for now and fix it? I really need to get home” You don’t mean to sound whiny, but you were extremely tired and just wanted to lay down. You also have another early day at work and need all the sleep you can get so you’re not too inadequate. 

While you try to convince the woman to talk to the conductor and ask him to not leave the station, Tangerine is sitting in his seat watching the whole thing, trying not to show any signs of satisfaction or excitement. He was only getting closer and closer to his plan being complete. But that goes away and is replaced with worry when another worker comes in and waves at him to come close. He sighs with annoyance and gets up, hoping something hadn’t gone wrong. The worker leads him to the next carriage. 

“Um, mister Tangerine. We’re having trouble with the doors in carriage fourteen, they seem to be broken and they won’t close.” Although it seemed like a small issue, Tangerine was an assassin. And his job required that he think of every single thing that could go wrong in a mission. And right now his mind was immediately going to you walking further down the train, noticing the doors were open, and you slipping through his fingers. He needs to get back to you quickly and make sure you don’t wander off. 

“Alright, what the fuck do you want me to do about it then?” His voice was quiet and calm, but the worker knew he was pissed because of his clenched jaw and intense eye contact. He also wasn’t sure what to say.

“Well don’t just stand there, you twat. Get someone to fuckin’ shut the door.” Tangerine doesn’t let the man speak as he walks back and he sees you slumped in your seat with a tired look on your face. He immediately wants to sit next to you and hold you in his arms and tell you to go to sleep, but he is not at that stage yet. But his patience is wearing thin, and he feels he is close to snapping. 

“This doesn’t make sense, why are we even going to the next stop when the doors aren’t even working?” You grumble in your seat and look out the window. Tangerine finds your pout cute and has to look away so he doesn’t smile in adoration because he knows you're annoyed and doesn’t want to make you feel worse. 

He understands that this is a huge inconvenience for you and that you had the right to be annoyed. But at the same time, he wants to tell you that you won’t ever have to work anymore and that he’s going to love you and take care of you from now on. As cute as your angry little face is, knock that attitude off.

-

With every station the bullet train arrives at and the doors don't open, the more infuriated you become. And when you become like this, you don't want to speak to anyone, you simply don’t have the energy or interest. And this is a problem for Tangerine, all he wants to do is talk to you. Because of this, his mood drops as well. He is ready to knock some sense into you and reveal that you were going home with him and staying there. He sees you look at your phone to check the time and you huff. This prompts him to check his watch. 8:49.

“You know what? I can’t just sit here and wait anymore. There’s fifteen carriages and two doors between each one, one of them has to work.” You say angrily and start to gather your stuff again. While on your small rampage, you don’t even look at Tangerine once. As far as he knows, you were talking to yourself. And when you’re about to walk away, you don’t say goodbye. And this really hurts and makes Tangerine angry. He’s too caught up in his emotions that he forgets about the doors at carriage fourteen. But he realizes at the last second

“Y/N, sit down!” His tone is a combination of his panic and anger, which causes him to shout and this scares you. It reminds you too much of your father screaming and you flinch, waiting for a door to slam loudly, but it never comes. You don’t move an inch, you’re frozen in your spot with your heart picking up and mind becoming hazy. Tangerine sees your uneasiness and quickly calms down, the absolute last thing he wants is to scare you and make you feel anxious around him.

“Love, I am sorry for my tone, but there is nothing you can do right now. The doors don’t even open until another ten minutes. So just sit down and relax, please.” Tangerine says in a softer tone, but it does nothing to soothe you. 

“I don’t want to sit down and relax, I need to get home and sleep! And when they fix the doors, how am I going to get back to my stop?” Your frustration combined with your tiredness causes your voice to waver, indicating that you were close to crying. Tangerine sees your watery eyes and he feels his heart hurt.

“Oh, darling, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay, I promise. C’mere.” He very gently wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you into his body. And you let him and it feels wonderful to be held so tenderly. Despite the rational part of your brain asking you why you’re letting a complete stranger touch you, you ignore it in favor of the warmest arms you’ve ever encountered. At the same time, it feels strange to have arms wrapped around you, you can’t remember the last time anyone has held you this close.

You close your eyes with your cheek resting on his chest, trying so hard to not let the tears fall and taking deep breaths to calm your beating heart. You feel your face heating up with embarrassment at the fact that you were on the verge of crying like a baby and a grown adult who you barely knew was trying to console you. So you try to swallow the lump in your throat and breathe through your mouth so he doesn’t hear you sniffle. Tangerine of course notices you holding back, and is quite impressed with how quiet you’re able to be, but he’s not going to let you continue with this, not anymore. 

You feel a warm hand begin rubbing your back with a firm touch. Up, down, left, right, all around, slowly. You feel another hand stroking the top of your hair, it feels nice. And with his chin resting on the top of your head, you are engulfed and surrounded by Tangerine. All you feel and see and smell is him. Something about the way he’s holding you and making you feel safe makes your tears fall. This is all you ever wanted. 

“That’s okay, I know. You can let it out, it’s no good to hold it all in.” Tangerine whispers into your hair when he hears the first sniffle. He doesn’t stop his hand movements when he feels you shaking in his arms and hears your sobbing, but he does tighten his arms around you.

Your cries and heaving breaths are reduced to sniffles and hiccups. You are suddenly aware of what you have just done, feeling like a nuisance. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I’m fine, I promise.” You pull away enough to look up at him and find him already staring at you with concern. Tangerine shakes his while gently swiping his thumbs across your cheeks, wiping your tears away. 

“You don’t ever have to apologize for the way you feel. And I can very clearly see you are not okay, and there is nothing wrong with that. Sit down, please, let me get you some water, don’t want you feeling ill, do we?” You shake your head and sit back down, feeling cold and drained. It was strange that not even an hour ago, you were the happiest you had ever been. And now, your eyelids were feeling heavy and like someone had just thrown sand in them.

Tangerine sees that you’re close to falling asleep, he doesn’t think you even know you’re about to fall asleep. He quickly runs to the kitchen for some water, hoping to get you hydrated so you don’t get a headache. As he’s rummaging through the fridge he silently curses himself for buying you all those sugary snacks and drinks, that can’t be settling well in your stomach. But when he returns to you, you are fully leaning against the window and he can hear your snores. 

He doesn’t know what to do next, so he decides to give Lemon a call for some advice. 

-

When you wake up, you don’t feel any better. Your mind immediately goes to the fact that you are probably further away from your stop, and you’re still tired. The urge to close your eyes and go back to sleep is strong, but you sit up and feel something slide off of you. You look down and see that it’s a jacket, the one you saw Tangerine wearing earlier. You then realize that he is nowhere to be seen, but there is a bottle of water on the table that your dry throat is begging for.

While drinking it, you wait for Tangerine to return from wherever he is but he still hasn’t come. Feeling impatient, you get up and start walking up the train. But with every carriage you walk through, there is not a single person you see. There is a slow feeling of panic arising within you, it feels everyone in the world abandoned you and you were the only left. Before you enter the next carriage you hear Tangerine’s voice and you stop, feeling relieved that he was still on the train with you. You’re about to go back to your seat, but you hear him start to talk.

“Is this really my last resort?... Alright, how much do I give her?... The whole bottle? Lemon, are you fuckin’ insane?”

Many thoughts and questions are going through your head right now. Lemon? His brother Lemon? What are they talking about? What is he giving to who? Why does he sound so angry?

“I’ll give her half the amount, I only want her knocked out so I can get her in the car… She’s asleep right now.”

You feel all the air in your lungs disappear, your stomach is in knots, and a fear so deep in your bones that it’s difficult for you to think or move. You can only hear his side of the conversation, and with each sentence he says, the more terrified you become. If you’re hearing this correctly, Tangerine is talking to his brother about drugging someone, who is most likely you, and taking them to his car after. Then doing who knows what. 

“I’ll pour it in her water or something and have her drink it, actually that strawberry soda she likes would be better.”

That was enough to confirm that he’s talking about you. You slowly back away from the door, being careful not to make any noise. When you’re far away enough, you take off to find the closest person who works on the train. 

Your heart beats so fast and hard you feel like it’s going to burst out of your chest, not even hours ago you felt the same way for Tangerine, but it was for different reasons now. You run faster through each carriage, not knowing when Tangerine would get off the phone and continue with his scheme. But you feel relieved when you arrive inside the kitchen and see a woman filling up the cart with more snacks. But she looks horrified to see you.

“Oh, thank god. We need to get off right now. That man I was with is going to kill me, we need to go, please.” You grab her and try to drag her to the nearest door, but she’s shaking her head and looks at you apologetically. 

“Miss, I am very sorry, but I cannot let you leave at this moment-”

“No, you don’t understand, you have to! There’s a man, his name is Tangerine, he’s trying to kidnap me, please help me-” 

“Y/N?” 

Your heart stops when you hear Tangerine’s voice. He’s fast. 

You don’t look back, you continue to stare at the woman in front of you and silently beg for her to stay. She sadly pats your shoulder before turning away and walking out the same door Tangerine came from. 

“Turn around please.” You do as he says, afraid that if you even step a toe out of line, he would pull a knife out and stab you. When you look at him, he doesn’t say anything, he only stares back. But that friendly face you witnessed earlier is gone, instead, a frown is settled on his lips and his eyes are showing dissappointment. You think it’s because of you, but Tangerine is really angry at himself for not putting a careful eye on you. He took his eye off of you for a second, more like an hour actually, and his plan has gone to shit.

“Y/N, I’m not sure exactly what you heard-”

“You were going to hurt me.” You whisper, mentally hitting yourself for interrupting him. You have no idea what he’s capable of, but if he has access to drugs that could “knock” you out for a few hours, then surely he has some sort of weapon on him. 

“Not too much. Just enough to… leave you unconscious for a bit. I wasn’t going to do anything too crazy.” 

“You think drugging someone without their consent isn’t ‘too crazy’?” You say this with just a smidge of anger and disbelief. You truly cannot believe what you are hearing. He’s fucking insane if he thinks what he was going to do isn’t extremely violating and fucked up.

“I really don’t appreciate that tone, love.” He says with irritation. And you’re back to being absolutely disturbed, that tiny amount of bravery is gone. He takes one step towards you.

“Tangerine, you’re scaring me.” You whisper while backing away slowly from him, afraid that if you went any faster he’ll pounce on you. While stepping back, you hit one of the carts that had the snack and drinks, and you grip it with tight fingers behind you. 

“Love, that’s not my intention. I just want to be with you, that’s all.” Tangerine’s irritation is gone and he says this as gently as possible so as to not scare you, but the quick mood switch only increases it more. You're appalled at his honesty and bluntness, he isn’t even going to try and give a bullshit lie explaining what you heard.

“I don’t even know you, please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone, please.” Your voice wavers in fear and the image of him becomes blurry with your tears, cracking Tangerine’s heart

“I just want to take care of you-” He takes a big step toward you and you quickly bring the cart in front of you and, with all your strength, shove it towards him. Genuinely surprised by your actions and sudden strength, Tangerine stumbles back and watches you sprint out the other door. He looks at the clock and realizes it’s exactly 11 o’clock, all the doors in carriage fourteen are open. 

You can't remember a time where you had run this fast in your life, everything in your peripheral was a blur. You’re slowed down each time you stop at each door, trying to open them then banging your fist on it in anger when it stays closed. Your thoughts go to Tangerine only getting closer, and this makes you run just a bit faster.

You cannot believe the turn of events. All of your infatuation and feelings for Tangerine were gone in an instant when you heard his plans to drug and abduct you. They were replaced with disbelief and terror. You also feel incredibly stupid, you fell for his charm and they way he made you feel special and cared for. You even let the man touch you and hug you. Now knowing he only did that as a way to make you feel comfortable enough to catch you off guard and snatch you makes you feel sick to your stomach. It’s such an uncomfortable feeling. You’re really about to vomit, your whole body is shaking, you’re lightheaded and can’t think straight. 

“Shit.” You whisper when you’re in the second to last carriage. You doubt that the last pair of doors will open, which means that you were screwed if these ones didn’t open. You never prayed before, but this time you do as you ran to the doors and hope to god that they open. You barely stepped in front of them and the doors slid open. You felt a huge portion of worry lift off of you in exchange for relief, but you weren’t done yet. You step out of the bullet train and the first thing you see are two security guards

When you run up to them, they look startled. You think it’s because of the way you look, all out of breath and panicked.

“Please help me, t-there's someone on there trying to hurt me. I h-heard him say he’s-”

“Miss, you can’t get off the train at this moment, please get back on.” One of them says and tries to lead you back on. 

“What? No, there’s a man on there that tried to hurt me-”

“Yes, and I understand, but you need to get back on.” The other one says.

“You understand? What the- no, you’re not listening to me- hey, what are you doing, stop!” Their hands are suddenly around your upper arms and they begin dragging you towards the train. You feel another wave of panic and confusion hit you at the same time, and the tears come back. 

“No, no, no, let go of me! Stop! Help!” You scream and chant so loud that your throat hurts. You dig your feet into the floor as hard as you can and thrash around in their grip, this catches them off guard and you manage to escape, but only for a few seconds before they catch you again. Their hands around your arms is reminiscent of the two cooks that you worked with and you would much rather be with them right now. 

When they have you in front of the train they still have you in their hands before you find yourself on the floor. Inside the bullet train. You feel a familiar pain in your knees along with some sort of liquid, you look down and see blood. You begin crying in pain, but you stand up on wobbly legs and try to escape one last time, but you're once again on the floor when they push you back in. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been laying on the floor, but long enough to know that the doors have closed and won’t be opening soon. Then you hear the door to the carriage open, along with the sight of two shoes. 

This is it. This is how I’m going to die. 

“Oh, darling.” Tangerine sees your bloody knees and makes a mental note to “talk” with the two guards that did this to you. He kneels down beside you, making you flinch. Tangerine ignores your action and takes a closer look at your knee, that’s when he remembers your bruised skin. You’re probably still healing from your bruises and those two guards made it worse. 

“C’mon, let’s get you up now.” Tangerine places one arm under your knees and the other under your back and lifts you up. This quick action surprises you and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck so you don’t fall. Being so close to him makes you nauseous again, along with the copious amount of sugar you consumed and the running you did. You can feel your stomach turning and bile making its way up your throat. You start to cry again when you realize you are about to throw up.

Tangerine looks at you and very clearly sees how sick you look. He quickly takes you to the bathroom, places you on the floor, and lifts up the toilet seat. But you shake your head and lean away, you are absolutely terrified of throwing up. The thought of the contents in your stomach shooting back up in a hot, gross substance makes you gag again.

“I know you don’t feel good right now, but you’ll feel much better after, I promise.” Tangerine puts one hand on your back and pats it, while the other hand gently gathers your hair in a loose ponytail. His heartbreak when he sees your endless tears dripping down your face and hears your sobbing, it reminds him too much of when you would cry alone in your apartment. Only this time he’s here with you. And as much as it pains him to do this, he wants you to feel better. So he starts patting your back harder, starting from the bottom to the top. 

You try to squirm away but he has a stiff hold on you. Then you moan in pain when you feel your stomach churning, it feels like it’s literally twisting inside your body. With Tangerine patting your back, you feel the contents shoot up your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut as it ends up in the toilet. You aren’t exactly sure what happens after that, only that Tangerine somehow got you in a private room on the train and you’re still crying.

“It’s done now, you’re all done now, love. You did a great job, I know that hurt.” It really shouldn’t, but the way he speaks to you calms you down and reduces your sobs to small sniffles. But there’s still a fear of the unknown of what he’ll do to you. You then become completely aware of your surroundings and find Tangerine with a damp towel in his hand and a first aid kit next to him. And he’s kneeling on the ground.

“May I?” He gestures to your injured knees. You might as well let him clean your wound, he’s got you trapped anyways and you’re sure if you try to escape again you won’t make it very far. You nod at him and look away. Tangerine carefully rolls up the bottom of your pants above your knees, quietly apologizing when you whimper when the fabric brushes against your cuts. 

The complete silence kills you. You don’t know what to say. But you’re extremely confused and still trying to process the last two or three hours, or four hours. You have no idea what time it is.

You first meet Tangerine, and it’s nice and all, but too good to be true. You find out that the whole time, he was planning to kidnap you. You thought he would have killed you by now or done something else horrific, like sell you to a group of human traffickers. Instead, he’s on his knees in front of you, wiping the blood off your knees and bandaging them up with soft touches. 

“Thank you for sitting still, did wonderfully.” He carefully pulls back down the bottom of your pants and puts your shoes on. You didn’t even realize he took off your shoes. And again, you definitely should not be feeling this way, but he’s being so gentle with you that it makes it hard to breathe. You want to kick yourself for feeling this way about a man that wanted to drug and take you away.

You watch his every move as he gets back up and walks to the bar, ready to take any harm he gives you. But he gets a bottle of water out of the fridge, opens it, and places it on the table in front of you. While you thought this was cute and gentlemanlike hours ago, you now know his true intentions and don’t want anything from him.

Even though your throat is burning and there’s a lingering taste of vomit in your mouth. 

“Drink it, Y/N.” 

You say nothing and look away, hoping that he’ll go away and never show his face again, or  maybe the ground of the train will swallow you whole. That would be lovely. You hear Tangerine let out a frustrated sigh and you prepare for a smack or something physical. 

“Y/N, please don’t make me ask you again. I understand you’re exhausted and have a ton of questions, but you’re not going back home. You’re coming with me and staying with me from now on. So just accept that and drink your water… please.” Despite Tangerine’s obvious frustration over the matter, his plan hadn’t gone his way, he completely understands where you are coming from. He knows what he’s doing and what he’s done is fucked up and deranged, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew if he ignored the urge then he definitely would have grabbed you off the street or dragged you out of your apartment into the trunk of his car. 

And you do not deserve that. He wanted to ease you into his life, lure you in slowly and nicely, then pull the string and trap you in his cage. He wants to show you the wonderful and loving life he can give you, how much he can truly care for you. But with the whole door situation in carriage fourteen and you trying to leave, it’s all a mess now.

When he says this to you, you want to be angry and call him obscene names and ask him what gives him the right to take you like you're an object. But you are not that person, you were never that person to show your anger in a truly furious way. What you do when you become this emotional is cry, but with all the tears you’ve let out today, there is no more. You’re drained. And all the fight in you is gone.

You grab the water and drink from it. The cold liquid feels like heaven when going past your dry throat.

“You should sleep now, you’ve probably tired yourself out.” Tangerine says softly. You nod your head in complete defeat and close your eyes, hoping all of this was a nightmare and you’ll wake up on your old mattress in your tiny apartment. But you knew what had just happened was real.

The only thing you can truly wish for is that whatever he has planned for you, he doesn’t cause too much harm.

—-

What was your favorite part and what are you excited for in the next chapter??? Again, your comments really motivate me to keep writing!!🥰

#tangerine #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x reader #tangerine imagine #tangerine x fem!reader #bullet train #bullet train imagine

[sunlightmurdock]

The Parent Trap | 0.1 | Bradley Bradshaw x Ex-Wife!Reader

♡ Prologue | Next Chapter | Masterlist

♡ In which, after a couple of years of listening to Peyton and Parker Bradshaw complain about their parents’ custody agreement, Grandpa Mav’s meddling goes a little bit too far.

♡ warnings: mentions of divorce throughout the fic, flashbacks to arguments and unhappily married people. Idiots who still love each other and don’t know it. (warnings will be added as story progresses).

…

“Alright! They’re here.” Maverick drops the curtain back into place and turns back towards his granddaughters. “Be cool.”

Peyton looks up, scrunches her nose just a fraction — she takes a moment to analyse what this might entail. Maverick sits back against the couch and opens his book up, picking a random page a couple of chapters in, settling into his position. Parker settles in equally easily, she drops down so that she’s sitting cross-crossed and immediately gets to work penciling in answers on her worksheet. Peyton inhales, then almost forgets to exhale, her mind racing as the sound of footsteps on the porch ring out over the top of Maverick’s soft soul album playing.

Finally, she drops down next to her sister and grabs a pencil.

“It’s been forever since I’ve seen Mav,” You muse, breathing out softly as you follow Bradley up onto the porch. It’s been forever since you’ve even been here, you’ve only seen Maverick a handful of times since you divorced Rooster. He was always kind to you. “He might not even recognise me.” You joke.

Rooster almost scoffs. Recognise you? — He hardly ever shuts up about you. It’s a good thing, probably, that his friends and family are so fond of you. It means he picked a good person to share his life with. It just makes things even more difficult now that the two of you have decided to go your own ways.

“He’s not that old.” Rooster settles with instead, keeping things lighthearted as he turns the door handle and opens the front door. He steps in first and holds the door open behind him for you. Taking a few steps forwards, he has a good view into the living room on the left.

The girls are both sitting on the floor, working on some school work together. Peyton’s helping her sister with math. Maverick is reading a fictional romance novel. One of Penny’s. Peyton is way worse than Parker at math. Damn it.

Maverick glances up from his book and even through the suddenly blurred lenses of his reading glasses, he can see the disappointment on Rooster’s face. Busted. But, as far as Rooster knows, this just means that the three of them spent the afternoon having fun and watching TV. Which isn’t entirely incorrect.

“Hi, Mav.” You step around Rooster sheepishly and lift your hand, waving it at him. Rooster looks you up and down, brows scrunching slightly. This is the man who drove you to the hospital when you were in labour and Rooster was an hour away in traffic. The same one who held you whilst you sobbed at the thought of not being a good enough mother and told you it was all going to be okay. The first person that the two of you told you were expecting.

And here you are, acting like he has become a stranger.

There are lots of aspects of divorce that hurt more than Rooster was expecting them to. Those hour long gaps in his Sundays now that he doesn’t have to go and put gas in your car. Getting home from work on a night that the girls are with you and his home being empty.

Now, Rooster doesn’t have much of a family. It was just Mav for a little while, and then Penny and Amelia came along. But, then he had you — and the girls, and you were all a big family. Now, Maverick is someone that you can only awkwardly say hello to. No longer family.

“Hey, honey! How’ve you been?” The book is discarded and Maverick is pushing himself up off of the couch, arms opened and walking towards you. Your body unstiffens, exhaling quickly as you let him envelope you in a hug. It takes everything in you not to rush out a pained ‘oh my god, I thought you hated me’.

Your mind jumbles, searching for the right words as Maverick squeezes you. He’s greyer than the last time you saw him, he still smells like the same cologne he wore when you met him. That means Penny’s still unsuccessful in making him stop buying the same pine scented spray that he wore in the eighties.

“Good! I’m — busy, but I’m good.” You manage out. He pulls back to look at you, catching your arms like you’ll disappear again if he doesn’t ground you right here with him. He looks over your face fondly. Both of you a little bit older, probably none the wiser.

Pete grins and nods his head. “I’m glad, I’m so glad.”

Rooster looks between the two of you, then back at the kids looking up at them curiously. As he glances back to Maverick, he knows that it’s only a matter of time before the old man starts spouting off some crap about how the two of you would probably be happier together.

“Mav, could we have a second alone with the kids? — We still have to get them home before their bedtime and stuff.” Rooster reminds his uncle gentle. Maverick jumps to his senses and pulls back nodding.

“Oh, right. Of course. I’ll — I’m going to go and start making dinner for Penny. I’ll be in the kitchen.” As he turns, his back to the two of you, his eyes on the kids, Maverick gives them an overzealous wink. It’s up to them from here on out. Then, he leaves and heads for the kitchen, shutting the door behind him.

Bradley moves first. He walks calmly into the living room and sits down in front of the two of them. You follow suit. There’s a beat of silence, the four of you looking at each other.

Finally, you’re the first to speak. “First, your dad and I just wanted to say that we’re glad you two can talk to each other, and that you wanted to help out your sister. But you know that this was completely the wrong way to go about it. Right?”

“We know…” Peyton agrees dejectedly, guilt in her tone and her body language as she twirls her pencil between her fingers.

You do your best not to make it a lecture, knowing that they’ll just zone out if you drone on at them too much. They’re still little and long lectures can be draining on their developing minds. You do your best to engage, asking them questions, keeping them involved.

It’s clear that they know what they did was wrong. You’ve got a sneaking feeling that this probably won’t be the last time they do something like it, but for now it’s resolved either way.

They’re going to write an apology to their teachers for switching classes again. You and Rooster had been texting about this all afternoon, you’ve considered making them write an apology to William — but he’s kind of a little asshole and his mother is even worse.

You check your watch and it’s already a little after seven. Their bedtime is eight. Luckily, Mav gave them dinner, so all you have to do is get them home and into bed. Then, you can get started with the mountain of work that you have left to do tonight.

“Alright, go say goodnight to Grandpa Mav, we should get going.”

“Can I drive home with Dad?” Parker asks suddenly. A quick glance towards your ex-husband, clearly tired after the day, relaxed back against the couch. He moved a while ago, complaining that sitting on the floor was hurting his back. You shake your head quickly.

“No, not today. It’s out of his way, and you two need to get to bed soon.”

“I just wanted to talk to him about the stuff with Billy,” She turns those big brown eyes towards Rooster and looks up at him, guilt filled and sorrowful. “I feel bad for not telling you about it. Can we talk?”

You open your mouth to correct her. Rooster, already suckered, sits forwards and nods his head. “Yeah, Peanut. We can talk about it.”

“You don’t have to, I mean, it’s—“

“It’s alright, I can take them back with me and we’ll just meet you at your place.” Rooster decides, running his fingers through his auburn hair and sitting up, readying to stand.

For the millionth time that day, your children catch you off guard. Peyton looks up, scowling, completely serious as she shouts, “No, I want to go with Mom!”

Rooster glances across at you, then back at her. Ultimately, he shrugs — it has been a long day and the twins’ favourite parent switches up routinely, he has learned to just take it in his stride. “Alright, so we’ll take one each. Just me and you, Parks.”

You’re more skeptical of this behavior, and your daughters recognise it immediately. You squint as you look between the two of them, and their sweet little faces. They’re probably up to something, but like their dad, you’re exhausted and don’t have time to investigate.

“Okay. One each.” You agree with a tired shrug, pushing yourself up from the floor. The girls rush off to say their goodbyes to Maverick, Bradley thanks him for watching them, then you’re all bundling out to the cars. You pause at the realization that Rooster has his bronco.

He catches your scowl as you pass him one of the booster seats. “She’ll be fine, I’ll drive slow.”

“I can take her, it’s not a problem.” You shake your head at the thought of her climbing up into that almost fifty year old, mostly metal, box. Rooster has always defended that truck to you, insisting that it’s safe. Still, you had made him buy something safer for when he has the kids. Their booster seats are still in the backseat of the fourth gen dodge Ram on his driveway, he never takes them in this.

“I’m going with Dad.” Parker insists. You both turn, looking up to find her already climbing on the side of the truck, having lifted herself up onto the step, now struggling to get the door open.

“We’ll see you at your place.” Rooster nods. With that, he turns away from you and wraps and arm around Parker’s middle, scooping her off of the side of his truck and opening the door with her under one arm.

You swallow softly and slide into the driver’s side of your car. Before you’ve even turned the key in the ignition, Peyton pipes up from behind you. “Was it weird being at Grandpa Mav’s house? — Did you guys used to be friends?”

“Alright, you buckled in?” Rooster looks up and checks his rear view mirror, finding his daughter’s smiling face looking back at him. He misses seeing those faces every day. She nods calmly and tugs at the seatbelt to prove it. Rooster nods, turning the radio down a little so that he’ll be able to hear her. The soft top cover will help, since the wind won’t be in their ears.

“Did you see that Mommy got her hair cut? — I like it like that, it’s pretty.” Parker comments, dragging her backpack across the seat towards her and starting to rifle through it as Bradley pulls away from the curb. He glances up at her through the mirror, brows scrunching just slightly, lips quirked.

“I thought we were going to talk about this Billy kid.” He reminds her.

“We are,” She shrugs her shoulders and pulls her notebook from the backpack, along with a blue pencil. “I’m just saying, Mommy looked really pretty today, don’t you think?”

“Your Mom always looks pretty. Just like you, Peanut.” At first glance, it’s a nice thing to say. But, it’s what he always says. With the two of them sharing so many of your features, he’d never dream of saying anything bad about the way you look. Not that he has anything bad to say anyway. Still, Parker is looking for something a little better than that.

She stares at him, squinting for a moment, then persists. “Yeah. But don’t you think she looks especially pretty now?”

Rooster glances up again, lips quirking more, brows scrunching in amused confusion at the serious expression on her face. “Yeah, I guess. — What’s this about?”

“I’m just asking. Don’t you think about Mom when you aren’t with her?” Parker frowns, folding her arms over her chest. Rooster pulls to a stop at a red light and looks back at his daughter, baffled. He always knew that getting a divorce was going to bring up some questions from the kids, he just wasn’t expecting this level of interrogation today.

He gives a small shrug. “Yeah, I think about you guys all the time. Y’know, how you’re doing, if you’re safe—“

“No, not us. Mommy.” Parker interrupts. Rooster glances back again, finding her staring back at him with her pencil resting on the page, her expression impatient. He pulls away from the now green light and shifts in his seat, completely confused.

“Um… yeah, I guess I think about her when we aren’t together. Parks, where’s all this coming from?” He frowns.

“Nowhere. So, anyway… Billy.” She tosses the notebook to the side and rests her hands in her lap.

Peyton twirls a curl around her finger, bopping her head to the lyrics of a song from the noughties. “I just think it’s cool that Daddy gets to fly planes. Did you think it was cool when you met him?”

When you met Rooster, you were still a bartender, working part time in a local boutique. You worked for Penny back then. You were somewhat young, especially impressionable — and he was perfect. Tanned skin, sunglasses and sea-salt tangled curls, asking you how your weekend was going every week.

Listening to your stories, asking you out, telling you about his adventures. It was all so quick in the beginning and yes, he was so cool.

“He was alright.” You answer back, glancing up into the rear view mirror with a soft smile toying at your lips. Peyton grins, she knows what that means.

She’s heard this story a million times and yet she asks again, “What was your first date like?”

Things with Rooster had never been exactly traditional. You’d already slept with him a couple of times before he finally murmured into your skin that he wanted to take you out for real, that he needed to know more about you.

But, that aspect obviously remains between just you and Rooster. You tell your kids about the date by the beach, him trying to impress you with somewhat of a picnic. Pushing him over in the water, him carrying you back to the car when you cut your foot on a rock by the shore.

He was so attentive in the beginning.

By the time you’re pulling onto the driveway, you check the rear view mirror and Peyton’s got her head leaned against the car door, lips parted, dead asleep. You smile softly, shaking your head as you unbuckle yourself and let yourself out.

Rooster pulls up as you close the door behind you. He turns off the ignition and hops down from the truck, standing under the glow of a streetlight.

“Parker’s asleep, I’ll carry her in.” He calls to you, already walking around to grab her door. You shake your head fondly as you turn back towards your car.

“Peyton too.” You chuckle.

Rooster unbuckles his daughter and lifts her into one of his arms, grabbing her backpack from the backseat with the other. He tucks her in against his side, her head lulling onto his shoulder, not stirring from her sleep in the slightest.

You groan as you hoist Peyton up onto your hip, struggling to balance her and shut the car door at the same time. It tugs at your heart strings as you realise out loud, “They’re going to be too big for us to do this soon.”

Rooster chuckles and steps around you to shut the car door for you. He makes it look so easy. “No, they’re going to be too big for you to do this soon. I’ve got a couple more years.”

You hug her closer to you, struggling to keep her tight against you, wondering when she got so big as you fumble for your keys in the tight back pocket of your shorts.

“I’ve got it.” Nudging your wrist out of the way, Rooster dips his hand into your back pocket and takes the keys. It’s a quick interaction, probably not him trying to cop a feel — it’s too fleeting for that, but it leaves you stunned nonetheless. He works the door open and glances back to check that you’re coming, still balancing your daughter with ease as he sets the keys on the end table inside.

Realising quickly that you must look like an idiot just standing there and staring at him, your feet carry you forwards and you kick the door shut behind you. He carries Parker up the stairs ahead of you. It hasn’t been that long since he lived here, it looks kind of different — the pictures on the stairway wall are different, but not unfamiliar.

He rounds the corner and pushes the door to their room open. Now, this is different. White walls dotted with little painted blue flowers, big-girl beds. Long gone is the nursery and toddler furniture that the two of you had filled this room with. It makes sense, their room at his place isn’t that different from this one, but still, he wonders why you didn’t ask him to help.

He sets Parker down on the bed closest to the door, slipping her shoes off of her feet and dropping them down to the floor beside her bedside table. The room would be bigger if they had bunk beds, but after last summer’s top bunk fight, you had forever abandoned that idea.

“I’ll go switch the car seats back over, if you wanna get them ready for bed.” Rooster says gently as you walk past him to set Peyton down in her own bed. You lift your head and nod gratefully at him across the dark room. Leaning forwards, you flick the switch for Peyton’s nightlight, it’s soft white glow illuminating the room enough for you to see the smile on his face.

“Thanks. Could you come back in afterwards? — I wanted to talk to you about something.” You’re busy unlacing Peyton’s tennis shoe and so you don’t notice the elated smile that’s on her face as she feigns unconsciousness. Rooster nods calmly.

“Sure. I’ll wait downstairs.”

Getting them both into their pyjamas, tucking them safely under their covers and slipping their respective stuffed animals in with them, kissing them both goodnight, it’s all part of the usual routine. Rooster’s leaning against the kitchen counter when you return back downstairs, arms folded over his chest as he frowns at the sink.

Slowly, you come to a stop a little bit away from him, unsure of how to say what comes next. You inhale, fiddling with your hands in front of you. He isn’t even looking at you, it’s like he knows already.

“Does it always drip like that?” He asks, pushing himself up and crossing the room to inspect the faucet. Your lips part, brows furrowing slightly. You hadn’t even noticed. He cranes his neck to get a better look. “You should’ve said, I can fix it this weekend or something, if you’re around.”

“Um… I actually wanted to see if you were free this weekend.” You explain calmly. Parker’s mouth gapes open as she and her sister huddle together at the bottom of the stairs, trying to listen to the soft conversation happening a room away. Rooster glances at you over his shoulder, just as taken back by the idea as his kids are. “There’s someone that I want you to meet.”

Rooster turns around to face you, leaning back against the counter and resting his hands on the wooden countertop. “Me? — Who would you want - Oh. You’re seeing someone?”

Realisation covers his face; it’s neither a good or bad reaction, and after years of knowing him as intimately as you do - did - you wish you could tell. You try to act as natural as he does about it.

“Well, I’ve been on a few dates with someone,” You explain gently. It’s a sensitive topic, telling your ex that you’re trying to move on. You’re not naive, you know that Rooster has hooked up with people since the divorce, you have too. But it’s different now, it’s bigger. “I really like him, and I’m thinking of introducing him to the girls. But I want you to meet him first.”

Parker slaps a hand over her sister’s mouth to contain the gasp, both of them ducking behind the railing by the stairs, like they won’t be seen through the gaps. They exchange looks, a thousand thoughts at once, plans being drawn up internally already.

It’s quiet in the kitchen, bar the sound of the faucet dripping behind him. His eyes, a dark hickory, search over your features. It’s unclear exactly what answer he’s searching for in your expression, but it doesn’t take him long to find it.

“Alright,” He nods his head. He signed those divorce papers just like you did. He was there for the custody hearing, the division of assets, explaining it to the kids. Rooster’s been present and aware of what this divorce means every step of the way. It’s been two years of pretty much radio silence. Neither one of you have exactly hidden the little flings you’ve had in the meantime, but you’ve kept that from the kids and you haven’t made a point of telling each other either.

Rooster’s trusted your judgment for as long as he has known you. If you think you’ve found someone worth introducing to the kids, then he should be happy. It wouldn’t be fair to hold you back.

He gives another curt nod, “That’s… it’s great. Congratulations.”

Your racing heart settles just slightly at his approval. Its pace slows but the pounding remains the same as you slowly raise your eyebrows at him. “So, this weekend?”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m free.” He agrees, nodding his head slowly. He taps his fingers on the countertops and glances around the home that the two of you had bought together just under a decade ago, silently wondering if your new boyfriend has been over.

It’s nothing to be upset about, the divorce was for the best, you both agreed that there shouldn’t be any hard feelings about it — these things happen. But, still.

“So, what’s he like?”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you shift on your feet. “Um… well, he’s a carpenter, and he owns a DIY place down the street from my store. His name’s Chris, he’s about our age. He’s nice, I think you two would get along.”

Not a convict, not too old or too young for you, owns his own business. Rooster can’t find much to complain about. Peyton’s brows furrow as she waits for her dad to fix this, to tell you to stop seeing that guy and be with him instead. Rooster’s face softens as he nods his head again.

“He sounds great,” He decides finally, his voice gentle as he takes a step towards you and opens his arms. “I’m really happy for you.”

You exhale deeply, relieved as he wraps you in a loose hug, every fibre of the interaction platonic. Just as quickly as you’re tucked in his strong, warm arms, he lets you go again.

“Text me a time and a place, the three of us can do something this weekend,” Rooster brushes some loose curls back off of his forehead and squeezes your arm as he steps past. Parker sighs, leaning her head back, crushed. He’s doing it all wrong. “And… um, thanks for keeping me in the loop about all this. I really appreciate it.”

Your lips quirk up into a soft smile as you nod at him. His footsteps grow closer, reminding the girls that they’re supposed to be in bed. It’s a quiet scramble, trying not to trip over each other as they race back to their bedroom.

…

@fadingbelieverexpert @jessirosebud @cowboybarbie @pinkpantheris @thedroneranger @a-serene-place-to-be @xoxabs88xox @unordinare

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw au #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x y/n #rooster top gun #rooster fanfic

[sanjisboyfie]

๑ keep safe : the cursed orphan enters! 彡 alabasta arc begins (2)

one piece x male reader

evil,

i've come to tell you

he's evil, most definitely

『 prev 』

despite being world news, reaching famous and rookie pirates, [name] himself was an enigma. not much was known about him to outsiders, all they knew was that he was powerful and a hefty amount was put on his head.

his wanted poster didn’t even reveal much of what his abilities were, the sword that was strapped across his chest to rest on his back wasn’t even being used in the still photo.

the world knew he was young, dangerous, and surprisingly, not in any popular or well-known crew. this garnered some attraction to him as people began approaching him in hopes of recruiting him onto their crews.

really, the only memorable person, however, was this odd guy that he did help out for a couple of months. but it was agreeably temporary for both parties. [name] didn’t have any trouble assisting him. it wasn’t like he was causing any particular trouble either.

“there’s no point in asking if you want to join my crew, i’ve already heard all the stories,” the man said, leaning against his ship’s hallway, making [name] grin in glee.

“thank god you weren’t about to go on a whole lecture of how you need me here,” [name] said with a light sigh. the man in front of him only smirked, shrugging his shoulders.

“maybe in the future,” he said, his husky voice echoing in the hallway.

[name] crossed his fingers over each other, creating a small ‘x’ shape, “highly doubt it, handsome,”

the man clicked his tongue, pushing himself off of the wall and ruffling [name]’s head. he was a tad bit taller than [name], which he took to his advantage several times.

“i’ll see you too, spots,”

“mhm,” the man hummed, watching as [name] walked off with a grin.

other than that, though, [name] was never seen sailing with any companions. it was just him, his sword, and that same fish boat that he left windmill village with as his methods of transportation.

3 years later —— he was sitting in a bar with a hefty meal in front of him. he smiled in glee, licking his lips and beginning to dig into his food. it was as delicious as it looked.

“you’re a real saint, y’know that?!” [name] grunted, swallowing his food first before speaking. he bowed his head deeply for a couple of seconds before sitting back up and ravenously digging into his food.

“uh-huh,” the chef said, not fazed by the man’s eating habits. if anything, he had seen worse. after all, this was a popular restaurant and bar for pirates to fill their stomachs in.

“coffee, too, please!” [name] exclaimed, grinning even wider when he saw a barista behind the chef beginning to work on his order. “just black!”

[name] eagerly waited for his hot beverage, finishing his food and then pushing the empty plate forward.

“here ya go,” the barista said, sliding his cup over and then positioning herself ot stand in front of him on the other side of the counter. “now, pirates are usually choking down booze. and you want coffee?”

“acquired taste,” [name] shrugged jokingly, “i just don’t like booze that much,”

she whistled, to show that she was impressed with his restraint.

as she was going to continue on the conversation, there was a rough tap on [name]’s shoulder that made their chat be cut short.

“you [name]?” the voice asked before [name] could even turn around.

“yeah, that’s me,” [name] said, wiping the side of his mouth as he looked at the figure standing behind him. it was a burly man, tanned skin, and his other muscular arm was already resting on one of the three swords that were on his hip.

“odd they want you only alive,” the man gruffly said, holding up a wrinkled piece of paper.

“not the greatest pick up line i’ve heard,” [name] shrugged, already aware of what was happening. “wow, look how torn up that poster is, have you just been staring at my photo whenever you’re bored?”

“you’re a rookie pirate, but the marines want 200,000,000 beri for your head,” the swordsman spoke, looking the man up and down. “let’s go outside,”

“if you insist,” [name] said in a sing song voice, already knowing how this was going to end. he rummaged through his pockets and brought out a handful of beri to drop on the table.

the moment that they were outside of the little shack, the man had his three swords already drawn. interestingly enough, he had one in his mouth.

“oh, that makes sense,” [name] said out loud after that observation, “i suppose you wouldn’t kick it around,”

“what are you talking about?” the gruff man said, “do you really want your last words to be something stupid as that?!”

“who said that they were gonna be my last words?” [name] mused, “i’m sorry, but i’m not really taking you seriously right now…i mean, your hair is green. you look like a sea moss,” [name] said simply, “that’s why i can’t take you seriously,”

and instead of replying, or inciting a furthering of the argument, the man rushed forward. he brought his two arms down to slash at [name], but each time, [name] swiftly dodged. interestingly enough, a swift jerk of the man’s head sent the third blade coming to close contact with [name]’s hair.

“planning on giving me a haircut, sea moss?”

“i’ll cut your head off!”

[name] chuckled, leaning every which way to dodge the attacks that the bounty hunter was sending his way. after a couple moments of just allowing the man to lay his offense on him, he decided that he had grown tired of dodging.

so he ducked down, kicked his foot out from under the swordsman, which caused the offender to jump back. and using that to his advantage, [name] rushed forward with immense speed and jabbed his finger into the man’s abdomen. that successfully left a gaping hole in its wake.

the swordsman sputtered, the sword in his mouth dropping onto the grass beneath them.

[name] knelt down, wiped his bloodied fingers onto the grass and picked up the sword. he looked at it in interest, humming, before dropping it back in front of the bounty hunter.

“i win, you lose,” he pulled the bottom of his eyelid down while pointing at him in mockery. this only aggravated the bounty hunter even more, who tried slashing him across his chest.

but he jumped backwards before the blade could even be considered a danger.

“what the fuck was that?!” the swordsman said in annoyance, looking down at the gaping hole in his abdomen that was bleeding out onto his pale white shirt.

“now, i don’t go around asking how you balance that sword in your mouth, don’t ask me for my secrets either,” [name] said, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “can’t you just give up? i have places to be…”

“liar, you’ve been sailing with no destination in mind for the last week.”

“you’re my stalker?” [name] said in disinterest.

“not a stalker! i want that price on your head and i’ll get it!”

“sure you will, you’re doing oh-so great now, obviously,” [name] said sarcastically, only urging the man to charge forward again and try to attack him.

this time his blades were moving faster than before, perhaps fueled by annoyance and frustration. [name] chuckled, making funny sound effects - which only made the bounty hunter try even harder.

“i fought monsters more difficult than you when i was half my age,” [name] teased, jumping more than a couple of feet backwards to give a pause in the fight. “okay, but seriously, i need to go. i just ate, i couldn’t finish my coffee-”

“i could give less of a shit!”

he charged once more and [name] decided that this would be the last time. he grabbed his sword from his back, but still kept it in its sheath and disarmed him, with ease. he grit his teeth when he felt resistance, but easily overpowered him.

now, two of the three swords lay out on the grass and the man was staggered.

“what’s your name?”

“roronoa zoro,” the green haired bounty hunter responded.

“wait…where are we? i’ve never heard of you,” [name] said after a moment of silence, a sheepish looking coming onto his face. “wait, i thought i was in the north blue…”

“what do you mean you don’t know what sea we are on?!”

“i just lost track…”

zoro opened his mouth to argue to call the man stupid, but simply shut his mouth, dropped the sword from his hands, and glared up at him.

“how did a stupid guy like you get a bounty so high?”

“the world government just hates me,” [name] shrugged, not thinking much of his reply or the question.

“aren’t you supposed to just be a rookie pirate?”

“i guess so,” [name] said indifferently. “do you usually get beat by rookie pirates? or is this the first time you’re tasting defeat? it seems by the look on your face, it’s the latter,”

zoro glared only more intensely, refusing to vocalize an answer. but instead, he spoke on a different subject, “this isn’t defeat,”

“just cause you’re not dead doesn’t mean this is not not a defeat,” [name] said, furrowing his brows, “or is it, ‘doesn’t mean this is not a defeat…’ this is all too confusing,”

“you’re the one making it confusing!” zoro cried out, feeling his headache coming from how annoying this pirate was to deal with, “this is not a defeat!”

“you can’t just make it not a defeat by saying it’s not a defeat. you lost,” [name] said, once again his tone irking zoro to infinity.

“did not.”

“did too!” [name] jumped up, pointing an accusatory finger at zoro.

“did not!” zoro shouted back.

“did too!”

“did not!”

“did too, loserrr~!”

“i’ll kill you!”

“you already tried and guess what? you failed and lost! hahahaha!”

zoro almost cut [name] up into millions of pieces, but refrained from doing so because - [name] did land more than a couple of hits on him and he was still bleeding from his abdomen.

“you give up fast,” [name] commented nonchalantly, looking at zoro who was now trying to go to sleep. “and you have zero self awareness, don’t you know that sleeping outside isn’t normal?”

“did you know that being an annoying fuck that talks too goddamn much is also not normal?” zoro shot back, his eyes still shut as he tried to focus on really blocking out the noise ([name]’s voice).

“it’s normal from where i’m from,”

“and where is that?”

”the east blue! windmill village!” [name] said proudly.

“never heard,”

“you suck,” [name] said, beginning to get bored with the conversation. he got up and made sure that the strap of his sword around his chest was secure. he looked around, wondering which direction it was that he left his boat and finally decided: to just walk until he found it.

“maybe i’ll see you another time roronoa zoro! and then maybe you’ll finally be able to collect my bounty!”

“yeah, it’ll be sooner rather than later too,” zoro said gruffly, glaring at [name]’s figure as it walked away.

“then i guess you really weren’t defeated,” [name] hummed, “we just have to find out next time who the real victor is!”

zoro nodded, “until then,”

[name] nodded, waving goodbye, “you give in really easy! bye zoro!”

a tick mark appeared on zoro’s forehead as he tried not to continue the fight from where he sat.

and then that same day, [name] did sail off of that island. finding the next thing to keep him entertained.

most days of travelling was really just island hopping until he was unsafe from the marines or bounty hunters, like zoro. at this point in his journey, he’d lost count of how many islands he had visited.

unfortunately, since he didn’t really have a map he could use (the ones he used to navigate before were proven useless and tattered, but still kept in his trusty safety chest for safe keeping). he sighed when he realized that there was no course of action from here.

he leaned against one of the seats on his boat, allowing the boat to rock back and forth with the current of the sea and sail with the wind. then he shut his eyes and thought of all his past adventures over the three years.

— flashback, 2 years ago

[name] had only been on the sea for one year and he already felt worn down. almost every other day he was either fighting bounty hunters of going against a fleet of marines.

it didn’t help that every island he touched land on only saw the bounty on his head and refused to open their doors for him, which included restaurants as well.

so not only did he have to fight people on an empty stomach, but the fact was: he had an empty stomach.

“i’ll let you guys take me in if you give me some food,” [name] bargained, showing his hands for them to cuff. the marines in front of him looked more than confused, exchanging glances with each other to see if he was being serious.

“come on, 200,000,000 beri and it’ll all be yours if you just, clasp the sea stone cuffs on me and let me into the marine base…with food! but only if you have food!”

“is it okay to offer pirates food?-”

“who cares?! put the cuffs on him now before he changes his mind!”

‘hm, this shit doesn’t really work, right?’ [name] thought to himself, lifting an eyebrow as he decided to test it out. he flicked his finger, watching as one of the marines very slightly tripped over his foot. ‘well, it seems like the lower headquarter bases just aren’t given the right information,’ he mused, smiling in glee.

as the two marines dragged him through the base, he was humming a tune to himself, occasionally singing joys of getting food in his stomach. he was suddenly thrown into a cell room, the bars being made of sea stone.

he turned around the moment he was pushed into the cell, “hey! remember our deal! food, in my stomach, soon!”

they flinched at his loud and demanding voice, scurrying away, resembling dogs with their tails in between their legs.

he sighed, taking a seat against the wall and waiting for a plate of food to be submitted in front of him.

in a couple of minutes, the captain of the base he was in was standing in front of him.

“the world government has been notified of your holding here, The Cursed Orphan, and have sent their fleet to have you escorted for a public execution. A vice admiral will arrive shortly to keep watch over you, but you will only step out of this building when an admiral is here. You will not-”

“oh! since I’m gonna be executed, you’ll let me choose my final meal, won’t you? It’s kind of really mean if you make me die on an empty stomach, a guy like me can’t take that kind of torture!” [name] pleaded, perhaps revealing too much about his weaknesses to the poor captain who just wanted to not fuck up having such a highly wanted individual in his base.

“what food…what food would you want to eat?” the captain couldn’t believe his own words. but if it meant [name] was to comply and not try escaping, he’d do anything. especially now with the pressure of a vice admiral soon joining their presence.

“i want…at least three whole chickens to feast on, some really good duck breast, oh- if you have alligator or octopus, i really like those dishes. but you can’t forget - the rice, cold noodles, hot noodles, soup, and vegetables for my sides. i like anything green, but no olives in any of my food - i hate olives! i like salad too, but no dressing, it just drenches the lettuce in a disgusting way,” his face screwed up at the memory, “all soggy by the time it gets in my stomach…hm, i feel like i’m forgetting something…”

“well, i’ll see what the chefs can do with that information first! remember, don’t get too comfortable!”

‘god,’ the captain thought to himself, ‘no wonder he’s got a high bounty - he’s a psychopath…just learned he was going to die and the first thing he wants is food…’

it was obvious that the captain was trying to establish some dominance to the situation, but it only made [name] grin in glee. finally! food! also watching the captain try proving himself to him, a pirate, was also amusing enough to smile at.

in an hour, straight torture for [name]’s hungry stomach, there was finally food presented in front of him. but it was a shaking cadet who slid it into the cell with nothing but fear in his eyes.

“we only had chicken, no duck. there was no salad available either. only cold noodles were capable of being served, there are no olives on any dishes. and a vegetable selection is all in the bowl beside the main…feast,”

the cadet was going to say, “main dish,” but with how much food was overflowing the two plates, it was basically a feast.

“thanks! i appreciate this!”

within a seconds’ notice, [name] began scarfing down all the food in front of him. it took him about ten minutes to finish everything, which was impressive considering he was barely even taking breaks to breathe in between bites.

“i’ve just been so hungry lately, not even an apple was seen anywhere i would go!” [name] said suddenly, shocking the guard that was on duty. “i mean, when you have 200,000,000 million on your head, i guess locals do tend to get scared. which is ridiculous because, hello! i haven’t ever hurt a citizen, it’s only ever been marines. ugh, i just hate people that judge a book from its cover!”

it seemed that [name] had simply given up breathing in between bites of food ebcause now he was also rambling. and he didn’t even sound out of breath, as if this was normal. to singlehandedly almost finish a feast in 10 minutes, while also rambling on about random topics.

when [name] licked the plates clean (literally), he sat against the wall of the cell once more.

“say when do you think the admiral is gonna be here?”

the cadet looked shocked to hear that he was being addressed. so he tried giving his best estimate, “maybe a couple of days, three or four days?”

“oh…well, if that’s the case, i wanna eat like this everyday until they get here with updates on their locations!”

the cadet simply looked at him as if he were crazy for such a request. not particularly because he was a pirate in a marine base cell, awaiting his execution. but rather, how [name] was so ready to eat that much food over the next couple of days.

it was truly an obscene amount it was almost unbelievable.

but nonetheless, [name] continued to eat like a king for the next three days. and then on the fourth day in his cell, he heard the outside bell ringing in greeting of someone important. no doubt whatever poor admiral had to escort [name] out of the base and to any point they could publicaly execute him the fastest.

however, the moment [name] heard those bells he knew his plan was in action. he had to pick the lock on his door, find wherever they’re hiding the keys to his hand cuffs and then get the hell out of there. before the admiral came and really whooped his ass.

he easily got the door to unlock, walking through the halls in a hurry. every now and then he’d run into a marine that’d try yelling for an authoritative figure, but he’d headbutt them before they could get a scream out.

he went through with his headbutt method throughout the entire marine base. and it worked. because now he was in front of the captain’s office. another easy door to get through considering he simply kicked right through it.

and he circled around the desk, calling the captain an idiot when he saw the keys to his cuffs were sitting right in the first desk.

he took off the restrictive cuffs and walked towards the window and deciding that that would be his best escape plan.

as he was falling from the sky, he felt nothing but glee as he realized that his stomach was now full, he was free from the marine base that fed him the entire time he was captive, and now he gets to run away from an angry band of marine soldiers.

maybe even see an admiral if he’s lucky! maybe fight an admiral if he’s unlucky!

he sighed as he remembered the good times, when he could easily freeload off of marine bases. but ever since that incident now, the bases are commanded to do a swift and easy execution, even if it isn’t public.

and now they were equipped with special cuffs that really did work in draining him of his strength. the sea prisms cuffs, the marines had revealed, were simply normal cuffs to [name]. it seemed that the higher up marines were finally letting the bases that were less important in on some of the secrets regarding the infamous orphan. they let the public think they didn’t know much about his existence or powers, but it was frankly the exact opposite.

[name] shook his head at the thought of one of his mortal enemies, the marines and world government, deciding to think about how unfortunate he was today. unfortunate in the sense: he couldn’t freeload off of innocent marine bases anymore.

which is a shame because now he can no longer sit in a cell for four days and eat delicious food whilst being unbothered. he truly was living the life. 

ー

『 prev. 』 ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🌊 ꒱ 『 next 』

#≡;- ꒰ ° keep safe series ꒱ #ks #one piece x male reader #one piece x reader #x male reader #x reader #male reader #one piece male reader #one piece imagines #male reader imagines #anime male reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #male reader fanfic #male reader fanfiction

[romanarose]

Gross Reality

Santiago Garcia x fem!reader

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Triple Frontier Masterlist

800 Words

Summary: You are on your period and feel disgusting, Santi isn't phased.

Content Warnings: BODILY FLUIDS, all the bodily fluids. This fic is just me being self-indulgent because I'm feeling disgusting on my period today. Breif reference to butt stuff bc it's me. But mostly, if bodily fluids like puke and shit gross you out, keep going but I know this is the reality for many people who get periods.

A/N: In my head, this takes place in a lil universe of several of my Santi fics, including the one I did with Dolli, Honest Mistake, and but more importantly another Santi period fic I referenced in this fic, Santi With a Reader on Her Period.

****************

Santi Claus: Hey babe, you wanna come over today? The new Spider-verse movie is on Disney plus, we can refuel your fanfiction inspiration 👀or inspiration 👀 for other things 👀

Benny’s Hot Friend: Can’t, busy sitting on the toilet.

Santi realized, again, he needed to change his girlfriends name from what he had drunkenly put it in as months ago at Will’s engagement party.

Santi Claus: … just sitting there?

Benny’s hot friend: No, dumbass

Santi Claus: Did you get distracted watching tik tok for an hour again?

Benny’s Hot friend: NO! Im on my period and it’s day two and everything is fucking awful and I wanna die and I think I’m going to on this toilet

Santi Claus: Cramps?

Benny’s Hot Friend: Shitting, Santi. Shitting. I’ve bled through my tampons after 30 minuets and i'm sick of it and I keep needing to shit and it’s disgusting and I’m disgusting and I’m just free bleeding over the toilet and shitting when need because I can’t trust my farts ARE YOU HAPPY

Santa Claus is typing

Santi Claus is typing

Santi Claus is typing

Santi was very carefully plotting his next words.

Santi Claus: Amor, have you eaten today?

Benny’s Hot Friend: NO I HAVEN'T EATEN TODAY SANTI IF YOU MUST ASK AND I HAVEN'T HAD ANY CAFFEINE EVERYTHING IS TERRIBLE.

When he didn’t respond, you assumed he’d gotten sick of your shit. It wasn’t that long ago that you happen woken up on top of him with a surprise early period, bleeding all over your new boyfriend who you hadn’t even farted around, and now, although you were more secure, you still worried you’d come across as gross and bitchy and he was over it. Your periods were horrible, the first 2-3 days at least. Dejected, you clean yourself up but only to go get more pain medicine and plot yourself back down on the toilet. 

Another round of cramps came and pretty soon you could add tears and puke to the list of fluids exiting you, ready to just get into the bathtub and cry when you felt your hair being held back and you look to your side to see Santi, eyes concerned and worried, but not disturbed.

“Do you need a hospital, mi vida?”

You shake your head. “No, tummy just hurts.”

Not deterred, Santi holds your hair and rubs your stomach as you empty into the trashcan until the pain subsided enough to try taking a pill again. Dutifully, Santi cleaned up the trash can and your face before guiding you up rinse your mouth out with mouth wash, all while muttering oft praises and encouragement. ‘There we go, let it out’ ‘Do you feel better? Bien.’ ‘Doing good, just spit it out now’

“Santi, I’m sorry, this is so gross-”

“Oh hush. This is far from the worst I’ve seen.”

“Saw worse in the military?”

“No- well, yeah, but I was thinking about the time Benny called me after getting food poisoning from Taco Bell and I had to play big brother while Will was out of town.”

“Yeah” You pant, stomach hurting. “I’ve had to deal with him sick too. He’s a bigfucking baby. Now can you please get out, I need to shit.”

Santi scoffed at that. “You think I don’t shit? I shit all day, three times before lunch-”

“Yeah, you should get that checked out”

“-I’m not phased. I’ve had my finger in your ass, I can handle what comes out of it.”

Finally, you giggle, smiling at him as he sat at the tub edge. “Okay, your funeral.” You bent over in pain again, wondering what the fuck you did to deserve this nonsesnese every month and what you did to deserve to deserve such a loving boyfriend. You wanted to marry this pain in your ass, marry him so hard. He talks to you while you take care of business whipping your face when you get the cold sweats

“Santi, I love you but you’ve gotta get outta here while I clean up.”

He chuckles, but concedes. “Okay, I brought over chinese food-” 

“Oh FUCK YEAH”

“-and coffee”

“FFFFFUUUCCKKK YEEEAAHHH”

“I’ll get it ready in the kitchen when you’re done”

He does as promised and you begin to clean up when you get a ding on your phone. You didn’t realize it was Santi’s until it was too late, and you saw it. No, he wasn’t cheating. No, he wasn’t talking shit. It was the last text you sent him and you saw what your name was on the screen.

Benny’s Hot Friend.

“Santiago Garcia!” You stand in the kitchen with his phone, fully dressed but your hair clinging to your face from sweat. “Wanna explain my contact name?”

He looks confused, then his eyes widen and he stops plating your food. Muneca, listen, I can explain-”

“BENNY’S HOT FRIEND?!” But you were smiling.

He starts to back away, hands raised in defense. “I said you were hot!”

“Did you forget my name that night?”

“Honey, I had like 8 beers and I’m a short king! I was drunk!”

Playfully, you run at Santi, threatening to bleed on him again.

***************

Anyway, shout out to my Peeps in the whorefully yours discord! we all go there and complain about our periods bc they suck. Mine arent THAT bad, I mostly had the shits and the excessive bleeding and I do just sit on the toilet sometimes but I know other people who throw up from the pain.

Your pain is real, and you deserve someone to take care of you

@fandxmslxt69 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @whatthefishh @k-ra @eyelessfaces @ivystoryweaver @steven-grants-world @campingwiththecharmings @ahookedheroespureheart @littlenosoul

#santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiagogarcia reader #x reader #santiago garcia reader #fem!reader #santiago garcia fem reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier reader #sick fic #sic fic

[moonlight-prose]

FIRST LIGHT

➛ #01. ETERNAL DARKNESS

a/n: this fic has been shoving its way to the front of my brain for months now. so i finally decided to sit down and write the first chapter. tommy miller somehow snuck up on me in 2023, and now there's really no going back with this man. i love him and all his agonies. this is a fic that i'm really connected to and terrified to post actually. it's also a level of angst i've never put out before so i'm handing tissues to y'all now.

summary: tommy miller never thought he would end up alone. not when he had family behind him - a life that wasn't perfect, but good enough. yet there he was, kneeling on the cold forest floor - bloodied and bruised - asking to die. until light streams through the trees, and he sees you.

word count: 2k+

pairing: tommy miller x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, grief, angst so much angst it's actually painful, tommy wants to die, tw suicide mention, blood, death, grief, the horrors of living through an apocalypse, IF YOU DON'T VIBE WITH A TON OF ANGST THIS IS NOT FOR YOU.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

There was no light in a body split down the middle. A body filled to the brim with splinters and jagged edges. With a hollow emptiness that created an opening—a chasm.

He could feel how the darkness soaked in, filling the spaces where light once belonged—where hope used to be. But nothing could exist if pain—grief—reigned free. A wild ruthless thing, cracking apart whatever remained. Feeding off the shine that once thrived there.

There was no light.

Not anymore.

He ran through the woods, the heaviness of his boots snapping twigs and branches as he went. The cracking echoed through the air, sharp and loud, accompanied by the heaviness of his breaths. Each one, more painful than the last. His fingers clenched around the ripped leather wrapped around the blade’s handle so tight his knuckles went white. At one point it was brand new, perfect. A birthday gift from his brother. He called it special—once.

Now it dripped red.

Wild eyes darted around the surrounding area, his breaths coming in slower—an attempt to slow the erratic beat of his heart. He could still taste it. The pungent sting of copper that built up in the back of his throat like bile. He couldn’t tell the difference at this point. They burned all the same.

Sucking in a breath, he felt his chest tighten, his eyes red with exhaustion. The nights were desolate, sleep no longer a priority when nothing but memories of a past he couldn’t get back to plagued him. What he wouldn’t give to go back. Maybe then he could save himself; end it before it even began.

Birds no longer chirped the same. He noticed that three days into being alone. As if nature had taken her beauty away; an act of punishment for the selfish behavior of humanity. They took her for granted. Used her up until nothing remained; until her grounds ran red with blood. And this was their consequence. An eternity of misery, of reaping what they sowed from her poisoned grounds.

He stopped breathing, stilled every limb of his body, and listened. For the signal of people coming after him. Or something worse. For a blissful numbing moment, he wished for the latter.

At least then he’d have an excuse.

His palm was warm, slicked and sticky with the color of crimson that stained his skin. A red right hand for the man filled with nothing but regret. If he could feel anything, he might have laughed at the sheer irony. Once upon a time he wanted to save the world. Now he was ready to watch it burn.

Silence spilled out of every corner. A deafening echo he yearned to find relief in. His body had other ideas though.

Clambering forward, he pressed himself against the nearest tree. The bark scraped his palm as he clutched it, tight enough to draw blood. But the bile had built and built and he could feel his body beg for something other than pain. Tilting forward he went dizzy as he dry heaved. His stomach was empty—the food he stole burned a hole in his pack.

Would it set him on fire?

Would he turn to ash here in the middle of the woods?

A sickening hope entered his chest. As thick as tar and black as night. Yet for a man who had nothing to cling to—this was enough. This would have to do.

He’d take what he could get. In a world ruined by death, a bitter hope was all he could carry. He would continue to push this boulder of grief up the hill paved with the souls of the past. The ones who could no longer sustain the heavy weight of their own heart. Some days he wondered if he could keep going, yet every morning he still woke up.

A bit more numb than the day before.

But still alive.

He used to feel hopeful at the realization. Now all that remained was bitter disappointment.

He bit down on the inside of his right cheek hard to stave off his pained shout. Copper flooded his mouth, but this was familiar. As if his body recognized a taste it’d grown to know. Clutching his thigh and waist, he stumbled away from the tree. There was nowhere to go, no place to hide, but the drive to keep moving kept him alive. The need to be anywhere but here.

Blood coated his once white t-shirt, his jeans a darker hue of blue as the wound on his thigh continued to drain out. Tommy knew he didn’t have long—spots of darkness peeking into the corners of his vision. The threat of oncoming blackness.

“Fucking shit,” he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as the burn of pain spread through his veins.

Images of the man flashed behind his eyelids. Blood, so much of it, filled his senses. He could still smell it, the hot flush against his skin as he pressed down on the blade hard enough to sever that link between life and the human body. How ruthless he’d been was sharp in his mind. And for the first time in a long time, Tommy was afraid of himself.

He killed the man with his special knife. The engraving Joel placed there—a reminder that his brother was always with him—glared back. I’m proud of you, coupled with the offset reflection of a man he didn’t recognize. There was no life in his brown eyes, no light. Only a thrill he’d seen before—a darkness he locked away the second it crept to the surface.

A piece of him that wasn’t human.

He bit down harder on his cheek, tearing through the flesh with ease. Would Joel be proud of him now? Would he look at him with the eyes of a big brother? The promise to protect him lingering in the brown Tommy knew better than his own. Or would he leave him alone all over again; claim he was a lost cause. After all, there was no use in saving the soul of a man this far gone.

Tommy’s breaths came in short, quick little gasps as he fought to stay upright. To push his boulder a little further.

But what was the use? What did he have left to offer the world? The man’s blood began to dry to his skin, into the grooves and lines of his palms. His fate line, heartline, and everything in between now coated in the essence of another being. A reminder that what he had done—what he’d taken—would remain with him until the end of his lifeline.

Being alone wasn’t new to him. Not when his only sibling had to grow up faster than he expected, leaving Tommy behind to figure out shit on his own. But this…the aching pit of isolation was something he didn’t know how to handle. He could still see Joel’s face, the lines of disappointment suddenly deeper than when he was younger. Pity in the brown that once used to shine with hope.

They both changed. They had to with the way things shifted so quickly.

Except Tommy never thought the only thing keeping him sane—the only tie he had to his past—would leave him alone.

He felt that overwhelming despair begin to swell in his throat, clawing to his chest like a beast starving for more. There was no one here to see him fail. No one here to save him from the darkness.

There was no one here to watch him die.

“Please,” he breathed, his voice ragged and raw from not needing to use it. As days came and went he remained silent. His words, trapped in the empty cavern of his chest.

There was no reason to speak when no one would hear his agony.

“Please.”

The beg morphed the longer he stood there, repeating it softly. Swaying on his feet. He wasn’t sure who he was speaking to. Who his plea was going out to, but Tommy didn’t care anymore. The pain that he tried to control—keep at bay for as long as he could—finally began to seep into his mind. Cracking the final pieces of his soul off like a bottle shattering on the floor. He begged for the release of this anguish, for time to turn back, for his brother to return to him.

He begged for death on a silver platter.

Unashamed, unabashed, and unafraid.

His knees slammed against the forest floor as he fell, his body sagging forward slightly, hands clutching onto his waist as blood spilled down his leg. If he didn’t patch himself up and chose to remain this way, he’d eventually bleed out. Right here on the dirt. He’d return to the Earth, become one with the moss that would eventually grow over his body.

Even that seemed like the better choice than this.

Fighting to live without end. In a world that would be happy to see him get snuffed out like a candle. Entirely blown away with nature’s breath. Her viciousness finally coming to fruition.

He gasped for a breath. Hot tears spilled over his scraped cheeks, his blood split lip from fighting now burning with the salt. Only this time he didn’t try to stop himself, sober his emotions and gather his surroundings. This time, he sunk into the darkness that ate away at his soul, consuming him bit by bit like a decadent meal it wanted to savor. He was its sustaining life force.

Until there was nothing left of him.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice cracking from the strain of the truth.

Tommy had never known an emotion quite like this. He never knew what welcoming death meant. Although he supposed a man would never know until he was faced with its truth; until something pushed him far enough.

He’d seen Joel go through it. Watched as his brother grappled with the decision to stay alive, and he would have joined Sarah soon enough. If Tommy hadn’t shoved his hand out of the way. Joel claims he flinched, Tommy knew the truth. He didn’t flinch, he stood still as stone with his eyes closed…he never saw Tommy’s hand coming.

But Joel would never know the truth.

A soft grin played on his lips as memories of his brother and niece flashed behind his eyes. Like a movie reel playing in a lonesome theater. He was the only person sitting there, transfixed to the screen. And Tommy would have spent the rest of his life there, watching. At least there he felt joy, hope. Emotions he thought he’d never have again.

“Please,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering open to see the light that filtered through the branches.

It fell on the floor like a spotlight, playing along it like water, and he found himself breathless to its beauty. Nature was extending her hand gently, offering him the last bit of beauty he’d get to witness. Placing a small amount of peace at his feet in retribution for what he’d gone through; what he was giving up. Tommy’s wounds continued to bleed, but for that brief moment…he didn’t feel a thing.

No pain, no hurt.

Just peace.

Something cracked in the distance, a twig breaking under the boot of someone, but he felt no need to react. The blade lay on the ground beside him, still bloody, still tainted with his guilt and regret. But there was no use picking it up now. He was already too far gone. Another helpless soul lost to a world on fire.

He could see it now. The sunlight illuminated behind their body, a soft voice echoing in the distance, and his lips curved into yet another smile. Was this nature? Had she come to lead him? Tommy gasped in another breath, forcing his eyes to focus, and yet all he could see was a blurred sight of this being. They practically glowed as they approached quicker than before.

“Hi,” he murmured, eyes wide yet unseeing.

Soft warm hands cupped his face, tilted his head, and replied something he couldn’t hear. But the light was too bright, too welcoming, and Tommy was so fucking tired. More words came, questions. He heard nothing. Just the softness of their touch, the gentleness of their nature, until it all faded. And nothing remained.

#catch me hiding for a WEEK after posting this #to all the tommy girlies i formally hand in my apology now #joy? i don't know her #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller #tommy miller fic #the last of us fic #my writing

[love-that-we-were-in]

Call An Ambulance... But Not For Me

Luke teaches Percy to drive. Well, kind of.

A/N: this is just some silly goofy while i work through writers block. i MIGHT come back to it. also it's a mortal au so there's that :)

Luke doesn’t know how he got dragged into this. Well, he does. It was very simple actually - he needed money, Annabeth’s friend had a reputation no one wanted to deal with when it came to putting him behind the wheel and a third secret motive he refuses to acknowledge that happened to be back in town for the first time all year. 

He’s not nervous. 

There’s nothing to worry about with Percy Jackson. He’s known the kid since he was twelve, sitting on the floor outside the classroom when there was a perfectly good chair next to him. He’s a good kid – maybe not the brightest or most polite – but good. A great friend, for sure, or Annabeth wouldn’t still be attached. Luke knows what Percy can be like and he knows his car will be perfectly safe, even if he’s in the passenger seat for once. 

“We’re just going to take it slow,” is the first thing he tells Percy, even before the kid has his seatbelt on. “I want you to talk me through everything on the console.”

“Luke, I’ve been behind the wheel before,” Percy laughs, but he does as asked. Indicator, wipers, handbrake. Two and ten. Accelerate, brake, clutch. He knows it all. “Am I allowed to drive now?”

“I had to be sure, okay.”

Percy looks at him like he knows exactly why he’s here. He forgets, sometimes, that they’ve grown up while he’s become an adult. Annabeth and Percy. They’ve learnt more while he’s been gone, become more if he listens to the rumor mill (he’s waiting for Annabeth to tell him herself) and Percy’s always been people-focused. Luke wouldn’t be shocked if the kid knew more about him than anyone.

“I’m not going to crash your car.” Percy turns the ignition on, finally. “Have you got any CDs?” 

“Drive in silence. No distractions.” 

It goes well. He was expecting worse, the way everyone was talking about Percy’s history in his drivers ed class. But it’s fine. They stop at red lights and go at green. He checks his mirrors. He goes the speed limit – there’s moments where Luke can see him itching to press the pedal down further, to go faster, but he doesn’t so it’s a win – and they can make conversation while he does it all. 

Why this was such a big deal to Sally and Annabeth, he doesn’t know. The kid is a fine driver. Luke has no doubt he’ll pass his test (or the actual driving part at least) and he’s only slightly put out that he won’t have to do it a few more times to get Percy up to scratch. 

“Can you parallel park yet?” 

“Do I look like I can parallel park?” Percy answers and it’s the same tone Luke’s heard him use a million times before, the one that says ‘I absolutely did that thing I’m in trouble for but you can’t prove it', so he waits. “I’ve managed it a couple times, yeah.” 

“Wanna give it a go now?” 

They’re almost at Percy’s, the other end of town from where they started, and they’re both safe and calm. Some would call that a huge success. He’s pretty sure Annabeth will call it the bare minimum. They’re pretty much the same thing. 

Luke relaxes into the passenger seat as Percy pulls in front of an empty space. The road is practically empty, he can see maybe three people on the street total. It’s a perfect time to parallel park. He can happily tell Sally that her son will pass his test in a few weeks and pretend it doesn’t suck that he won’t have an excuse to swing by the Jacksons house every week.

It takes him a second to notice Percy mumbling to himself. 

“You okay, buddy?” 

Percy nods and it’s the first time Luke has really seen him concentrate on what he’s doing. There’s an intensity he doesn’t normally carry, a set to his shoulders and fingers tight on the wheel, and Luke sits up a little more. He’s not worried, not after how smooth the drive so far has been, but he’ll match Percy’s energy a little bit more. 

He thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind, that if he’d let the boy play music, he would’ve turnt it down right now. 

“You’ve got time, Percy,” is what he says instead of giving advice. Honestly, he’s not sure what advice he could give until the kid told him what he was nervous about exactly. He’s not actually a driving instructor after all. “Take a breath.” 

He does. 

And another. 

“I’m going to start now.” Percy says and Luke nods. Then he says “okay” because he realizes Percy is looking determinedly at the windshield. 

Forward. Turn the wheel. Reverse. Turn the wheel. 

Luke watches as he makes every move, breathing deeply with each one. He sits in silence, at ease. Finally, finally, Percy starts to relax as he slowly, so slowly, inches his way into the space. A couple more minutes and he’ll be home free. 

Maybe Luke can offer to help him master his parking instead of calling it quits completely. 

Then, just as Percy lets out all of his breath, calmer all of a sudden, he presses down on the accelerator. Just slightly too much. 

A jolt (the hood bashes against the door of another car), the sound of a horn (it takes Luke a moment to realise it’s Percy who’s pressing it, holding it down with his elbow and glaring, and another moment to slap his arm and make it stop) and he squints.

“Did you just crash into your sister?” 

Percy gulps. “Do you think she’ll know it was me if we just leave?” 

Luke sighs. 

“Lesson number two. What to do when you get into an accident.”

#luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #🖋️abi writes

[theshadowrealmitself]

Okay my favorite batshit au for Spiderman that’s incredibly self indulgent to me is:

Peter starts out as a Spider mutant, of course no one really knows this because he’s a very quiet and cautious kid and the stuff he has isn’t that noticeable to other people

On top of that, due to the age gap between his dad and his uncle, Ben and May already old when they take in young Peter (closer to comic canon), which comes with the side effects of being raised by older legal guardians

Side effects like because of their age they’re so tired when they come home from work that they can’t really give Peter the attention and energy that he needs and they want to give him, and because they’re always so tired and old and stuff, Peter, who’s already an obedient kid, doesn’t want to make their lives harder and their health worse, hides away anything that can upset them

(This is very important because it explains how Peter gets away with so much as a kid, there’s gonna be a lot of well meaning neglect in this au, and is also the very beginning of that deep anger taking seed inside of him, he feels can’t show emotion about his parents abandoning him, can’t make a fuss about Flash bullying him because the school won’t help and it’ll only stress out his aunt and uncle, he just feels like he can’t show anything and has no outlet for it all)

So Peter, even before going to live with his aunt and uncle didn’t get much attention because his parents were focused on their research and trying not to get killed, and then after moving in with them, feels like he has to make his presence as little as possible

He becomes a very, very independent little kid, even though May and Ben keep trying to let him know he can just be a kid, it’s okay, but at some point one of them has a health scare, there’s the hospital bill from it and the possible chance of future medical bills, so both adults start working more and more hours to afford all that

Which leaves poor Peter alone most of the time, he doesn’t want to make a fuss so he just accepts, and because the adults are too busy to really sit down and coordinate their time together, they don’t even realize how much they’ve left him on his own, thinking that the other adult was helping him

Peter gets himself up for school, washes the laundry, cleans what he cans, and cooks himself breakfast and maybe makes some for Ben or May if they haven’t left yet, packs his own lunch, then he’s responsible for getting himself on the bus to school (where he gets bullied all day), and then getting back to school, then because of the hours they’re working, he usually comes back to an empty house and makes everyone dinner, eats his, then puts himself to bed early after doing homework alone

At this point, Peter is now 10 years old, he’s formed a new friendship with his next door neighbor, MJ, who’s being purposely neglected by her shitty angry drunk dad, and another boy at school, Harry, who’s being emotionally neglected by his dad

The three of them start hanging out at Oscorp and getting to see the new stuff that the company is developing before it’s put out, one of those things is radioactive spiders, and one of the spiders with specific markings becomes Peter’s favorite

After some time, Norman makes a deal with the army to sell one of the spiders to them because of their own research with radioactive bio specimens, unfortunately, the spider he sells is Peter’s favorite one

For the first time in his life, Peter decides to try and be vocal about something he wants, but he’s too scared to interrupt Norman’s conversation, too used to being quiet, so he follows Norman along, waiting for a break in the conversation to ask him to sell a different spider, just following aaaallll the way to the army base, just being so quiet that no one notices him

Norman makes the handoff and Peter ends up following the spider, eventually getting his hands on it and accidentally releasing it from its container where it then bites Peter

Now remember, Peter was already a mutant, these spider mutant powers already included super strength, climbing on walls, and being able to produce webs, and also because being Spidery was a core part of his being, he has also has a ton of spider behaviors and instincts that he has to constantly fight to appear normal in public so no one calls his relatives and stress them out

After the bite, all of the hair on his body, not just the hair on his head, but the body hair, eyelashes, eyebrows, just everywhere, becomes bright red and blue patterned, his eyesight becomes supernaturally incredible, but when he uses his eyes like that, they become entirely black, I’m talking pupil, iris, and the whites become a dark inky black, and when he’s not using it, his eyes look normal, but his eyesight is back to being crap, he also now has fangs that produce a high intensity venom, and his super strength becomes so much stronger than it was before

These effects start slowly taking over as Peter starts wandering around with his spider, that he’s already forgiven for biting him because of course the poor thing is scared, trying to find an exit, but instead he stumbles upon the other radioactive specimen in the army’s care: the Hulk

Peter, being the sweet kid he is, lets the Hulk out and the Hulk remembers that and becomes a lifetime friend of “bug-man’s” from that, and the two escape the army base with the cameras capturing footage of a blue and red spidery creature helping the Hulk, starting Norman Osborn’s lifetime hatred for Spiderman (no one notices Peter’s excursion which takes a couple of days getting back home because quiet kid, kinda being neglected, teachers didn’t even mark him absent because they didn’t notice he hadn’t actually showed up, etc)

Peter is now visibly a mutant and so his friend and neighbor MJ notices immediately when he comes back and helps him out immediately even though she likes his new look, but it gives her a chance to try out makeup looks and hair dyes on someone else, and that’s what starts them becoming best friends, MJ starts hanging out more at his house to get away from her home life, Peter isn’t so alone anymore, it works out great for the two kids and starts Peter’s huge crush on her since this is the first time he’s actually been close and open with another person

(Also cause of the neglect, man it feels awful saying May and Ben neglected him in this au but there’s no other way to put it, Peter doesn’t ever return to the doctors and get checkups, and no one investigates because fuck it they lost Peter’s file or something)

Peter and Harry don’t have that moment where they suddenly intensely bond over something, but over the next four years, the three of them slowly become inseparable, to the point that many times MJ and Peter forget that they haven’t shared their big secret with Harry

(Although Peter hasn’t become a vigilante yet, him and MJ still go off and have adventures during this time, like helping the Hulk or meeting up with the x-men, this ends up being another thing that helps him hide his identity as cameras keep picking up grainy images of him without the stuff he uses to hide his looks at school and of course no one’s gonna assume a kid is out doing these things, so Spiderman, when he makes his debut, has to be much older than the Parker kid is what everyone thinks)

So instead of the spider bite being what causes his fight with Uncle Ben leading to him running out and consequently his uncle dying, it’s Harry finding out that MJ and Peter had this secret they hadn’t been sharing with him, and Peter’s resentment at not being able to go to his relatives for advice because how would he even explain any of that to them?? He doesn’t even know how they feel about mutants much less a mutant who’s now been made radioactive!! That causes his anger issues acting up and then the origin story with Uncle Ben except now his death includes him apologizing to Peter for not being there more often and knowing that he’s a mutant (but not the other stuff) and letting him know that he’s okay with it and he’s sorry he made Peter feel like he couldn’t share that with him

This is depressing for everyone, because even though him and Aunt May dropped the ball a lot (in this specific au), he was still a great relative when he was able to be there for him, he was also a great adult figure to MJ and Harry

So after that, all 3 of them decide to get into the vigilante business, with Peter being the face of it since he’s the only one that could actually handle fights and stuff (but with Harry’s money and Peter’s smarts they do end up making equipment for Harry and MJ), just these 3 little traumatized, neglected 14 year olds forming a vigilante group together

They find an Oscorp warehouse that Norman forgot about, put it in Harry’s name, and completely reinvented it to be their base, and over time it becomes less lonely, at first it’s just the Hulk hiding out there occasionally, maybe some x-men they befriended, but once they turn 18 and Spiderman becomes less of a cryptid and starts actively putting himself out there (because Harry and MJ couldn’t stand the idea of losing him so they made him promise to stay out of the limelight) their group starts really taking off

(Getting people like Gwen Stacy, Daredevil, Nova, Iron Fist, White Tiger, Power Man, Wolverine, Venom, Squirrel Girl, etc)

While staying completely hidden from SHIELD the entire time, Nick Fury doesn’t find out for ages that all these other heroes were secretly connected to Spiderman and had a base together this whole time

And eventually of course Miles joins, with his origin story being that he found Spiderman on the brink of death, saved him, accidentally got pierced by one of his venomous fangs, which acted the same way a bite from a radioactive spider would affect him, which is not something any of them had known, apparently a full on bite would kill a person, but a tiny amount of venom makes them radioactive, so that’s something to worry about now

Miles’ uncle eventually joins their little superhero gang sometime after that because it’s my self indulgent au and I want that kid to be happy with his family

Also after Uncle Ben’s death, Aunt May makes a concentrated effort to actually full on be there for Peter and all his friends, it doesn’t magically make his childhood better, but it’s healing

And a good portion about this is: Peter’s identity being so hard to find because how he shows himself in his civilian life isn’t what he actually looks like, so when his mask gets ripped off there’s not actually much to worry about, doesn’t mean he’s not still doing The Most™️ to hide his identity to protect not only Aunt May now but also his group

And also I wanted him to be as strong as possible, like could fight Superman strong, as well as have all these abilities that would make you think he’d be a part of the avengers fighting aliens and stuff and he’s just like “I really gotta dedicate all my attention to stopping muggers and bank robbers” because that’s so him

Also I think he’d look incredibly pretty with the red and blue coloring as well as the completely black eyes, and because it’s funny to me, while the Hulk is a part of them, Bruce Banner has no memory of this in the slightest, and Johnny Storm is pissed when he finds out Spidey has a hero team with a base that he didn’t invite him to

The neglect and stuff also really ties into not joining SHIELD, because Peter is still the unofficial leader of the group and he's not used to depending on others, but also he's worried about SHIELD trying to force him to become a big named hero when he does just want to stop robbers, and he's terrified of SHIELD knowing his and his friends' identities and what danger that could lead to for them

There’s probably a ton I forgot to put down but this post is already so long 😭 lemme know if anyone has any questions!! would love to answer any

#Spiderman #spider-man #spider man #peter parker #ben parker #uncle Ben #aunt may #may parker #harry osborn #MJ #mary jane watson #the hulk #Bruce Banner #norman osborn #my incredibly self indulgent Spiderman au #I always make Johnny pissed off about Spiderman having a group he’s not a part of #because I like Johnny wanting to be besties with Spidey #but also because I’m a little bit spiteful and in one of the comics #Peter tries to join the fantastic 4 after he gets powers but they reject him since it’s a ‘family business’ #so yeah enjoy you’re family group Johnny he has his own group now :p