#Hot Pocket One Piece Adventures

[abbyromanoff]

TARGET 1

PAIRINGS: Ghostface!Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 2581

WARNINGS: bottom!Nat, kinda dark reader, Mommy (R), smut obvi, mentions of face riding, hand jobs, breeding, little!Nat, praise, pet names, Nat is referred to as “bear” a lot, small angst, wrote this in abt an hour so it’s not that great :/, think that’s all tho :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Screams echoed through the dark alley, and Nat cursed herself for not thinking to cover the victim’s mouth. Someone could hear, and with the news of the recent killings spreading, she didn’t want to risk finally being caught.

The blood oozed out of the man’s wound, and Nat smiled as she grabbed her camera. She examined her surroundings, making sure nobody was nearby before she took multiple photos, placing them in her pocket after making sure they were perfect for you. She sent a text your way, updating you on her completion before removing the mask and cloak, placing them in her bag while she placed a single headphone in, making sure she looked like a normal citizen and not a killer who just took away the life of an innocent man. You told her to be safe on her voyage home and received a quick photo of her grinning with a thumbs up, giving you all the closure you needed as you set up the bath. You ensured the water was hot so it would cool to an even temperature by the time she was home. You placed her favorite toys in the pile of bubbles and ventured into the kitchen, waiting for the oven to set off and to hear the twisting of keys to your shared apartment.

“Mommy? I’m home!” You heard a giggly Nat alert you, causing you to peek your head out of the room. She smiled when she saw you and tried rushing forward, only to be stopped by your voice.

“Ah, ah, what’s the rule with shoes in the house?” She looked down, noticing a small trail of blood she left on the floor. She rushed an apology and placed them on the rack next to the coat hanger, continuing her way to you and throwing her arms around you in a hurry.

“Mm, I missed you, bear.” You placed your hands on both of her cheeks, squishing the plush skin before leaving a quick peck on her lips. Her dimples shined under her large blush and you chuckled, placing one last kiss on her forehead before grabbing her plate of food.

“I know you must be so hungry after all your hard work today, I thought you deserved a little treat.”

“Breakfast for dinner? Oh, thank you, Mommy!” You knew it was her favorite, and while it was a bit of a hassle, you’d rather spend half an hour cleaning if you got to see her smile so large. She poured the maple syrup over her waffle before grabbing the whipped cream, only to be stopped by a hand.

“I think it’s best if Mommy does that for you, we don’t want you dirtying up your shirt, now do we?” You also knew she loved to go over the top with sweetness, whipped cream being one of those. While she deserved a lovely treat, it was best if she didn’t plow down piles of food and complain later on about stomach pain.

“Would you like me to cut your waffle for you, love?” She grappled onto your arm, resting her head on the soft skin as she watched your every move.

“Yes, please.” Her mouth felt empty, usually, she had her pacifier to soothe her in times of calmness like this. So, she took to biting her lip instead, a habit you’ve been trying to have her let go of.

“There you go. Why don’t you eat up and you can tell me all about your little adventure tonight, okay?” She nodded, instantly taking her fork and picking the piece she saw first. You sighed with contentment before taking the seat across from her, occasionally feeling her foot slap against your leg as she swung them happily.

“I even got a bunch of pictures for you!” She concluded her rant, reaching into her pocket where the Polaroids were stored.

“No talking with your mouth full, bear,” You reminded her, making her stop as she swallowed the nourishment before continuing. She placed each of them on the table, taking a sip of her apple juice before explaining each one.

“And guess what? I stabbed him, like, a billion times! I forgot to cover his mouth on accident, so I made sure to leave before anyone heard him or saw me.” You nodded along with her statements, standing alongside her as the two of you cleaned each dish.

“Now, baby, you need to make sure you’re being careful, I don’t want you to get caught.”

“I know, Mommy, I promise I’m usually really careful, but I got a little excited this time.” The man wasn’t a terrible person, but in her mind he was. He was your boss and had been setting unrealistic expectations for all of his workers, including you. This meant longer hours and more stress, which also meant less time that Nat got to spend with you. You tried making it up to her, and she didn’t blame you, but she knew this was the best gift she could offer you. After all, you do so much for her, you deserved a thank you.

“That’s alright, we’re just going to need to wait a little bit longer until we find someone, this time.”

The two of you quickly finished the load of dishes, thankful that there wasn’t a lot. You led her to the bathroom, helping rid her of her clothing before she settled in the bathtub. She played with the toys, allowing her giggles to be presented instead of shying away. She was never appreciated in the ways you showed her, so being able to remove that ounce of fear she held felt undeniably relieving.

“Mommy, can I ask you something?” She asked in a low voice, clinging onto the towel you wrapped around her. You furrowed your brows but gave her permission, your worry only growing as her gaze faltered to the floor.

“Do you really think I’m good at this type of stuff?” She had been trained her entire life to kill, it was all she ever knew. She was of the highest rankings at such a young age, but the constant competition and downgrading she received failed to fill her confidence. All she ever wanted was to be good enough, and now that goal was even more important with you by her side.

“Oh, honey, of course, you are! I’m always so proud of you and your work, nothing will ever change that.” She sat on the edge of the bed, the cracked window causing goosebumps to erupt on her naked skin. You took the signal to shut it before returning, kneeling before her as you patched up a small cut on her knee. She eyed the Frozen bandaid with a smile, running her fingertip over the area before returning her gaze to you.

“But you don’t seem as excited about it as before, am I doing something wrong?” Her lips formed into a pout that she tried to hide, only to be exposed as you brought her face to meet yours.

“No, that’s not it at all. I’m so sorry, bear, I’ve been so stressed over work, and with the holidays coming up, I guess I’ve been neglecting you as a result. I’m so sorry, it was never my intent to hurt you.” She relished in the fact that the truth was now out and she could be at ease, but she felt saddened at your reaction. She didn’t want to hurt you, but now you were the one with a heavy heart.

“No, it’s okay! I- I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t doing something wrong, I’m not mad at you.” You rubbed her sides gently, taking the seat next to her as you wrapped your arm around her small frame. She rested her head on your shoulder out of instinct.

“You did so well tonight, I think I’m going to hang those photos up on the fridge so I’ll always be reminded of how talented you are.” Her legs rested on top of yours as she kissed your cheek in appreciation. You chuckled, doing the same to her while your hand rested on her thigh. You inched further, watching her shuffle impossibly closer to you as a result.

“You know what I think? I think that my girl deserves a little reward for just how well she did.” Your thumb made contact with her tip, the action bringing a shiver throughout Nat’s body. She grinned through a bitten lip, her cheeks turning a shade of red as you removed the skin from her teeth.

“You need to stop that, baby, you know I don’t like it.” She rushed a quick apology before a small gasp left her. She removed the towel from her lower half, only to see your hand now wrapped around her length, stroking a continued motion slowly.

“M- Mommy, that feels really nice.” You hummed, your eyes falling to the area of attention. You removed your hand, causing a whine of disapproval from your girlfriend. You shushed her, guiding her to lay on her back as she spotted her stuffed animal. It was a plush dinosaur that you got her years ago, she still cherished it. You pressed a kiss to her forehead before doing the same to the soft creature in her arms.

“Close your eyes, I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” She questioned when you stood in front of the door. You turned to look at her as you removed your shirt, exposing the black bra to her eyesight. They widened, her cock hardening even further before you closed the door behind you. She tried to follow your orders of sitting tight and closing her eyes, but the anticipation was so high. She wanted to know what you were doing, she wanted to feel your touch again. Her palm lowered down her body without realization, and she couldn’t hold back the whimper as she brushed over her balls. They were so sensitive, but you always said that was your favorite part about them.

“Natty, baby? Are your eyes closed?” She retracted her hand instantly, hoping you wouldn’t get a glance at her antics. You were never one for letting her touch herself, she suspected that wasn’t going to change tonight.

“Yup!” She heard the door squeak and had to fight the urge to look, but she remained how you wanted her, and she knew that pleased you when she heard small cooing.

“Aren’t you just the cutest little girl ever? Mommy is so, so lucky to have you, bear.” You ran your cool hands against her nipples, resulting in the buds hardening. She stifled a moan as you went lower, your fingers tracing over the same area she had just teased. She hoped you couldn’t tell, she never knew how but you seemed to know everything, especially when it came to her.

“I could just…eat you up!” Your hand enclosed around her cock, creating the same movements as you started earlier. She was grateful to have the return of your touch, but it wasn’t quite enough. Her hips thrusted with every stroke, her desperation being made clear to anyone who could see her.

“Oh, did you need something?” She whimpered when you came to a halt, your thumb collecting the pre cum from her drooling tip. You rubbed it over her bottom lip, letting her get a taste of the sweet nectar you grew addicted to.

“You, I…I want you.”

“But you have me, don’t you?” Your condescending tone brought her to quiver in excitement and fear.

“I need to be in you, Mommy…please?” You crooned, hovering over her length and letting the head tease your folds. You moaned, rubbing your clit in small circles. You continued until she couldn’t bear it anymore and finally let yourself soak in the pleasure, and allowing her to feel your warm walls clenching around her.

“Fuck, my little girl is so big, can barely even fit.” You groaned, interlacing your fingertips with hers. She seemed content with the praise and let her hips follow your movements, hoping she was doing it correctly in order to make you feel good, but that was quickly proven by your high-pitched moans.

“Right- right there- ah! Don’t stop, baby, don’t you dare fucking stop!” You leaned your face down, admiring the fact that she continued to comply to your request even in a state of such arousal.

“You can open your eyes now, bear.” She fluttered them open, blinking twice as she came to register the sight in front of her. The mask covered your face, the black paint looking into her eyes and she suddenly felt like someone else. She was no longer the killer, she was the victim.

“You like the mask? Yeah? Good, I was hoping you’d say that.” Your pants caused your chest to heave, your breasts bouncing in her face as a result. She removed a hand from yours, using her digits to caress the soft peaks before wrapping her lips around one, then switching to the other. The coil in her stomach tightened with each clench and each thrust, her eyes squeezing shut as she forced herself to slow down.

“Don’t hold back, bear, I want to feel your cum so deep inside of me.” She looked at you one more time for permission, using your short nod as approval to let go. Her teeth bit down gently as a result, causing you to hiss as she hurried to explain herself. You cut her off before she could speak, and she found herself unable to do so as she painted your walls white. You let her ride out her high, finding yourself unable to care for the orgasm you threatened yourself into having. It was cut short, and Nat wasn’t going to allow that.

“Mommy-”

“Shh, shh, don’t worry about me, just fill Mommy’s pussy.” Your tight hole greedily accepted her, and your womb greedily accepted her seed. You felt so full, but you were nowhere near done.

“You see this?” You pointed the knife in front of her, she gulped in fear before it led into hunger. You led the weapon to your chest as you leaned back, drawing it from the bottom of the mask to your lower waist. You grasped her palm, placing the knife in her hand as you allowed her to sit up. When doing so, her cock maneuvered inside of you, bringing a shudder of pleasure from both of you.

“I want you to mark me, baby. I want every single fucking soul to know exactly who’s Mommy I am.” She smiled, letting the object slowly and barely seep into you, it was just enough to leave a mark but nowhere near as bad to injure you greatly.

“And I want you to tell me while you write just how much of a good girl you are, and just how much Mommy loves their little bear.” You pet her head, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as she continued. You felt your hips threatening to repeat from earlier but held off until she finished.

“There, all done.” ‘Owner of Natty Bear’ was sloppily written on your skin, the blood dripping down your side as you praised the younger female.

“Mm, you did so good, Princess. Now, I think Mommy deserves a little treat, as well, yeah?” She nodded happily. “Alright, lay down, Mommy’s going to ride that cute face.”

#natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fanart #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #mcu natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff mcu #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x reader angst #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader fluff #black widow #black widow x y/n #black widow fluff #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow smut #black widow angst

[ceilingfan5]

"Yeah I’m fully understanding the murder part, just not why you’re the one who needs to solve it??"

“So you’re not like, a cop? You gotta tell me, you know, legally you gotta tell me, if you’re a fuckin’ cop, my man.” Taako folds his arms, his shirt with the piñata fringe making this look a lot less serious than he intended. 

“I swear to you, I am not a cop,” Detective Kravitz says. “See, it says so, on my business card.” He hands Taako a business card with shiny red lettering on matte black, KRAVITZ. Private Detective for Hire. Not a cop. 

Taako flips it over. On the back is a glossy magnifying glass, highlighting his phone number. Taako snickers and pockets it. He tugs his holographic cargo skirt back up and squints at Kravitz. Kravitz poses awkwardly, trying to look serious, but not too serious, but not too unprofessional. Dork. Taako wants to eat him.

“Yeah, okay. You’re too stylish to be a cop.”

Kravitz beams, which makes Taako feel really warm suddenly. He shouldn’t be blushing. He kind of forgot he still could. 

“Anyway, I was wondering if you had any-”

“Hot clues, Scooby-doo?” Taako teases. He hops up to sit on the counter and surveys his thrift store kingdom. He crosses his legs, and watches Kravitz catch an enticing flash as he kicks his legs up. That’s right, dork, look. Look allll you want. 

“Ah, I was going to say insight, any insight into the murders committed outside your loading dock last night?”

“Aw shit, there were murders? I’m gonna barf.” Taako tries really hard to look distressed. This is sort of difficult, because he was the one who sort of exsanguinated those assholes. And they didn’t even taste that good. 

“I,” Kravitz blinks, taking out a notebook, and pulling a sleek black pen from behind his ear. God, this idiot is cute. It isn’t fair. “I was under the impression you were the one who called it in?”

“Um, nah,” Was he? Fuck. No, no, uh, he made someone else do it. Who was working this morning. “I think Magnus found ‘em, he was pretty shocked.” 

“Oh, sorry, I thought-” Kravitz scrawls something on his dumb little notebook. “Remind me your name, then, if you don’t mind?”

“Taako,” Taako says, instantly regretting not choosing an alias. He is sort of wearing a nametag, though. Not that he has to cooperate with this investigation. “Do we really have to talk about this? I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Taako, but I’m trying to solve this murder.” 

"Yeah I’m fully understanding the murder part, just not why you’re the one who needs to solve it?" 

“Well,” Kravitz puts down his notebook, pausing. He chews something over in his head. “I don’t want to say anything untoward about the police, but,” and then he looks at Taako pointedly, and Taako snorts. 

“Yeah, I mean, you’re right, but weren’t they like. Trying to break into the place? They-” Whoops, don’t incriminate your own dumb vampire ass! “Magnus said they had guns?” 

“Good to know,” Kravitz says, pointedly writing something else down. Taako sweats. He smells really good. Like, really good. Why the fuck does he have to be playing Inspector Gadget? Can’t he come keep Taako warm at night instead? 

“Anyway, I gotta put out some more inventory. Treasure Adventure isn’t gonna thrift itself.” And he hops off the counter. Kravitz looks at him, mouth a funny line. 

“Taako, are board games with missing pieces and bead purses from 2005 more important than lives, snuffed out, by some kind of murderer?” 

“Lot of other kinds of people snuffing out lives these days?” Taako snaps. “You wanna say monsters or dickheads next?” 

“Taako, is there anything you want to elaborate on?”

“No, I don’t think there is,” Taako says firmly. “Maybe I’m just feeling unsafe in my workplace, asshole, you ever think of that? It’s terrifying to- be- here! I gotta keep selling garbage? For minimum wage? Where something like that happened! What if those guys were coming to stick the place up and I was the one that got murdered, would you be as persistent about that case, Columbo?” 

“Yes,” Kravitz says, eyes wide. His heart is pounding more about the awkward situation than it was about the dead bodies. He has a little arrhythmia. It’s kind of cute. “Of course I would.”

Taako throws his hands in the air and exclaims wordlessly, and marches off, which is the only way he saw out of the conversation. Kravitz, to his credit, stands there looking sweaty, and then goes to bother another employee instead. 

Taako hides in the breakroom and pretends he doesn’t feel weird about it. He pretends he doesn’t care about it at all. 

Funny, how things might have been different if someone had cared to look into what happened when he died. 

But he doesn’t want to think about that. He wants to think about seducing that trenchcoat-wearing loser away from the lawful side. Yeah, that’s it. For sure.

#taz #taakitz #tazb #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #fan5fics #taz balance #taakitz fic

[alemonyoyo]

No Country for Young Humans - Chapter 8

Got this chapter out a lot sooner than planned. This chapter does NOT pass the Bechdel test I am SORRY. But on that note, from what you should expect of this story; a lot of MC and Star. This is definitely an idealised narrative that is moreso focused on the relationship between these two characters rather than the ongoing story of the Underground as a whole. Of course, elements of the Underground and the happenings outside of The Wild East will become prevalent, but MC and Star are the main focus, hence why there is so much focus placed upon MC and Star. I just wanted to clarify this!

Missed the previous chapters? Check out the Masterlist!

Words: 3397

Tags: GN Reader, No use of YN, Flirting, Teasing, Does not pass the Bechdel test

Summary: Finally you've returned from Waterfall, and your feelings are starting to swell. Taking a break from the hustle and bustle of celebration, a more quiet figure plagues you with a question.

Chapter 8 - The Childhood Friend: BGM: Undertale Yellow OST: 069 - Getting The Thoughts Out

You hadn’t expected to be near tackled at your own arrival back home, but it was a welcome surprise.

“Ah, jeez guys!” You laughed out, the Feisty Four being quick to embrace you. It was nice to know you had been missed, even if you were gone for only a day.

“Good to see you’re alright, rookie.” Moray spoke out, being the first to detach from the group hug. Ace followed suit, readopting his stoic demeanour as he added,

“Not that we didn’t have any *faith* in you.” After some of your missions with him, you were surprised that he did. Ed eventually let go of you, picking up Mooch by the back of her collar as she tried fiddling around in your pockets.

“We were just worried is all.” Ed replied before giving Mooch a dirty look as he placed her down gently.

Home hadn’t changed since you’d left of course, still as vibrant and hot and dry as always. Despite the lustre and elegance that you had been met with at Waterfall, being home and safe felt all the more radiant. You felt a hand get gently placed on your shoulder, Star approaching from behind. 

“No need to worry. They had the best Sheriff in town to keep them safe!” He beamed out. For all it was worth, he wasn’t lying. If it weren’t for his quick thinking, and knowledge of Waterfall, then you would probably have been captured, or killed-

“Yes of course.” You heard the calmer voice call out from behind the crowd of the Feisty Four. “Glad to see that you are both still in one piece.” Ceroba joined the small group with a calm expression. She looked the same as always, perfectly dressed and groomed. You watched as she turned to give North Star a quaint smile, yet she only nodded at you.

“I think this calls for a round of drinks, right boss?” Ed asked, tipping his eyebrow at Star who nodded in agreement.

“Sound’s good to me, Ed. Let’s celebrate another victory.”

“And the rookie will be paying for all of us!” Mooch spoke out as she held out your pouch of gold which she had keenly swindled from your pockets. That bastard! The cunning thing squirmed out of grasp before you could grab her.

“Hey! Give that back!” You chased after her as she ran into the bar, the others following close behind.

-

The saloon's chatter was a wall of sound hugging around every part of you, oppressive and overwhelming. Yet, its thick presence left no room for intrusion, left no room for your awkward sighs and light breaths to be heard as you remained slumped on the edge of an ongoing conversation. Chatter this wild allowed for some sort of anonymity that you were otherwise lacking.

The Feisty Five, plus Ceroba and yourself, had been chatting about the excursion for quite some time now, with North Star painting quite the elaborate and dramatic picture of your adventure;

“But then, the *leader* of the Royal Guard came runnin’ at us! She had this look in ‘er eye, I knew it was bad business then. But thankfully-” The flourish he added always had you delighting in much of his charm. Sewn within each word was this giddy tone in his voice, the bravado of the tapestry he weaved was magnetising to watch. Yet, having been there yourself to experience the real thing, his tale was a large stretch of the truth.

You had wanted to help recount, but instead found yourself sitting silent by the edges, simply watching as North Star worked at the theatrics, miming actions, putting on voices. You were too enthralled by the mere sight of him to even interject with your own remarks. This feeling- it was dense and tight and pulled at you every which way, yet you indulged in it all the same. You liked him, more than the average friend. But if you found your tongue caught every time you were with him, with *everyone*, how could you ever make your feelings known?

Not even a couple hours ago talking had felt so easy, the words slipping off your tongue like the rapids that rushed beside you as you spoke. You had pinned him down, punched him, laughed with him, yet now it was all too much? Others were watching, yes, but shouldn’t the company mask the need to indulge in your own fluster?

Ceroba was making a comment on the events of North Star’s retelling as you elbowed him lightly in the side, just enough to get his attention;

“I’m gonna get some air for a bit.” You whisper, before shifting off your seat to leave out of the Saloon’s back door. Hopefully he’d follow, and you could be alone again to be playful with him without the fear of being seen. Or even worse, understood.

You felt the Saloon door swing shut behind you, the air out here was, although still just as hot, far less stuffy than the hive that throbbed within the Saloon’s walls. Out the back there was a small, rickety patio made of wooden planks with a couple of stairs that led down to the sandy ground beneath. A faucet jutted out of the wall though it wasn’t functional and probably never had been. You went to sit on the stairs, feeling the wooden boards wheeze beneath the weight; weathered and old. Down the far side of the back of the bar, there were a couple barrels of what you assumed to be rum strewn about.

The outside air was fresher, less anonymous, yes, but it gave you the space to clear your head. The space to not let your emotions take you over. 

Taking a deep breath in, you felt the warm air shift in your lungs. Exhaling, you dragged out all of the tension in your shoulders, your back. It could have just been aches from your prior adventure, or it could be something more-

A calm breeze washed by, sending a couple of tumbleweeds floating with it. Stumbling over one another in a chance to make haste to who knows where. Objects without purpose travelling onward. They were like you at one point in time. Making a journey to a place you would never see again. It was useless, really, when you thought about it. Even if you *wanted* to leave, you couldn’t. So maybe it was good that you liked Star, liked him this much to change the entire trajectory of your life to stay *here*. Your new home.

This was the best choice for you, right?

Suddenly, you heard the Saloon door squeak on its hinges as it was forced agape.

“Need some company?” You heard the mellow voice speak out.

“Sure, Ceroba.” You responded, too lost in your thoughts to turn your head to her. 

She gladly took the reply, shifting down next to you on the wooden planks. The wind that rolled by shifted through her locks of hair. They looked like tendrils as they brushed through the wind. Even sitting she was elegance personified.

“I was hoping to hear *your* side of the story. I know Star’s dramatic tendencies all too well.” You heard the smirk in her voice, and turned to see it for yourself. A strange sight it was, but a welcome one. You had seldom seen Ceroba even frown, such levels of expression were rather abnormal for you to be privy to. You sighed out, thinking of where to start, “Long day?”

“Yes-” You nodded, leaning your chin on your hand as you started.

“We don’t have to talk about it then-” You felt her shift, but it was smooth, and lacked the jagged edges of awkwardness. Despite your *state*, she was still effortlessly comfortable in your presence.

A silence settled between you, one that was far more comfortable than that which you had shared with some of the others. All you needed was the sound of the wind and the muffled chatter to keep you company. Though, there was a part of you, the same nagging voice that felt oh-so oppressive earlier in the bar, that wanted to ask her about him. North Star had said they were best friends, since childhood no less. Had he spoken about you? Or were you nothing but a passing remark in their conversations?

“North Star took me to this hidden place when we were running from the Royal Guard. At least, I *think* it was the Royal Guard.”

“Oh so the bit about you and Star getting chased by Undyne was all made up?” You weren’t sure who that was, a Royal Guard evidently.

“I like to think of it as a bit of flourish rather than an outright lie.” You let out a small chuckle, an exhale that showed the playfulness of your tone while your face could still remain stagnant. “It was this small area, with a bench and an Echoflower. We had to tread on these weird flowers to get there. It was like nothing I had ever seen!” 

“Oh, did you check under the bench?” The mentioning of this secret spot seemed to catch her attention, she had turned to you, looking at you more directly.

“Uh, no?” 

“Oh.” She retreated a bit in her tone, “Maybe next time?” You saw her flash a smile. A rare smile. One’s that feel like secrets shared between first loves, only you were barely even friends. 

“Maybe. Why should I be checking under there?”

“Oh, it’s just an inside joke- When I used to take Star there as a kid, sometimes there’d just be- oh, well I won’t spoil the surprise.” And just like that, the moment went sour. Those moments with Star had felt like they were *yours*. Yours to ponder over and to turn around in your head obsessively like you had done mere moments ago. But that wasn’t *your* place, this was North Star and Ceroba’s place, wasn’t it?

“Ah, yes, he told me you took him there.” You could feel your tone fall flat, losing its initial flighty underbelly, skinned of its lighthearted tone. “You’ve known each other for a long time, huh?” You asked, not really directing the question towards her. Rather it just reaffirmed the brewing feeling that tripped in your stomach. It wasn’t as painful as jealousy, no. This was the solemn poison of doubt.

“Yes. Pretty much since I was born. I guess as friends, I never really outgrew him.” Hm, that wording struck you as strange. The feeling in your stomach only got hungrier for info;

“As friends?” You asked, knowing the road this would lead down. You didn’t want to dislike her. You didn’t- Ceroba had kindly come out to check on you after you randomly departed from the group. How could you dislike someone like that? Yet, envy was a powerful thing that battled for control over your logic, appealing rather to the jury of the heart.

“Well, there was a point in time where-'' She stopped herself, almost as if she had been paused by some outside force. And then, just like that, they had pressed play, and she had snapped out of whatever stupor that overcame her. “You don’t really want to hear this, do you?” She asked, eyebrows downturned.

“Why do you say that?” Perhaps even with the coolness of the outside air, your emotions hadn’t simmered down, and your face had failed your intentions, ringing out doubt and envy on all of its features.

“You like him, don’t you?” Oh.

“I- what?” She met your reply with a knowing smile.

“You do!” She beamed with glee, pointing a light but accusatory finger your way. 

You stammered an excuse, waving your hands to fan off her presumptions. But it was too late, this spark had been fanned into a wildfire, and there was no way that the stream of words that left your lips could ever put it out. As your attempts slowly faltered, you felt a dewy warmth emanate beneath your clothing, sticking to your skin as your face fell hot.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I won’t tell.” She placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, but the act was dampened by the fact that she still wore a smirk on her face. “I just wanted to confirm some suspicions. Glad to know I was right.” Her face shifted into a smile, and you calmed your panic.

“How could you tell?” You asked. She had read you so easily! Were you that open of a book that this near-stranger could tell your feelings. And who else knew?

“Ah, I always have fun watching the gang do their missions. I was quite keen to watch you when you first joined. I see the way you look at him.” She leant back on her hands, staring out to the vast horizon of the Dunes, “I thought at the very least, it was in admiration. But I started to suspect that it was something more after I heard all the names Star calls you.” She giggled, and you looked down at your lap where your hands sat clasped in dismay. “ “Darlin’” seemed to have you gasping for air a couple of times. It is quite amusing to watch.” You had assumed this whole time that the passionate inner feelings you harboured were nothing more than swells of the mind, yet instead they chose to manifest visually, giving you away.

“Well, I guess you’ve got me all figured out then?” You responded, sighing heavily as you tried to let go of the embarrassment. 

“I wouldn’t say that. I just know that you like him, is all. I don’t know *why* you like him, though I have my suspicions. And other than that, I hardly know anything else about you. North Star has talked to me more about you than I have talked *with* you.” I suppose that was true. You had heard more about Ceroba than seen. You had heard more about her whole life than seen it; Her husband, some chatter here and there about a daughter. Where were they now?

“What kind of things is he saying about me?” You ask hesitantly. She giggled and you shot her an angered look.

“Ah, sorry, sorry. This just reminds me of when I was a kid, a little.” She chuckled.

“Why’s that?”

“Ah you know, asking your crush’s friends about what they think of you, gossip and all that. Talking behind others’ backs. It’s all a bit childish but it's something I enjoy for its nostalgia all the same.”

“You calling me childish?”

“Aren’t we all?” The response was befitting of everything you had encountered in the Wild East so far; this large game of pretend that strung out over weeks, the playful yet meaningless back and forths of the Feisty Five’s banter, your conversation right now with Ceroba. It was all quite childish. But maybe that’s what you needed right now.

“Anyway, to answer your question, he’s only said good things, so don’t get hung up on that.” That was a relief, after everything you had sacrificed to stay here in the Wild East, the last thing you needed was the driving force behind that decision to turn sour on you. “He sees a lot of potential in you. You seem quite eager to do well for him, and you’re brave enough to try all the crazy things that he asks of you. He admires that” This made you smile. Of course it did-

“Good to hear that my dedication is paying off.” In response to this, she shifted in her place, turning a little towards you.

“So, why do you like him?” She asked before slinking back in slight embarrassment, “Now I’m being childish.” You decide to feed into the gossip, the two of you giggling at how silly the whole conversation was.

“Hm, well, he is quite the character. There is a lot to go over really.” You held your chin in contemplation; “He is rather attractive, that’s for sure.”

“Shallow.” She mumbled out before chuckling.

“Okay, okay! There are more reasons than that!” You slap her playfully on the arm, “He’s really patient with everyone's abilities. I feel like he doesn’t expect too much of everyone. Even if I suck at something, I never feel shitty about it when I’m around him.”

“There was a time where he was pretty bad at all of this.” Ceroba responded, gesturing with her pawed hands, “When he was younger, and first got attached to human culture, he’d go out into his yard every day and practice lasso-ing his dad while he worked.” Now it truly felt like gossip. Now you truly felt like friends.

“Oh god- That sounds painful. But in the most endearing way possible-” Star sounded like quite the hoot, even as a kid. Maybe even before he got ensnared with all the Wild West stuff.

“What was North Star like as a kid?” You asked her, hoping that the mentioning of the past would be a welcome topic. Ceroba seemed to be one to indulge in nostalgia.

“Ah, very different from how he is now. He was just as well meaning, but not as bold or brash.” You listened intently, and Ceroba couldn’t help but laugh at your heightened interest, “Not sure how much I can tell you without Star trying to kill me. He tries his best to look cool for you.” The remark had your mind buzzing with glee. He tried to look cool for you- What a dork. What a loveable dork! “I can tell you that he was a lot quieter, more contemplative and a bit bored with life. I guess that’s why he latched onto human culture so much. It’s hard to live a satisfying life down here. Guess he needed some excitement.” Her gaze turned to look pointedly at you. There was no smirk on her face, just pure contemplation. “Maybe that’s one reason why he’s latched onto *you* so much.”

You hoped not, as it rang rather shallow in comparison to the depths of your own feelings for him. Seeing your slightly pained expression, Ceroba quickly added, “Not the only reason, of course. I have heard many reasons.” You tried to smile appreciatively at the response.

“Do you think I have a chance?” You mumbled, feeling your heart’s pace quicken, its vibration’s thrumming.

“A chance with him?” Her expression was like nothing you’ve ever seen. Trying to decipher its parts, it seemed like a mixture of reassurance and something more painful. Something you couldn’t read into any further, your shovel of inference hitting a rock. “Well, I’m almost certain you do.” She added, turning away, her expression unchanging.

“You think so?” Your tone is careful yet still injected with the characteristic flightiness of joy. This was everything you had wanted to hear, afterall!

“Y-yeah.” She sighed out, her gaze astray, “He really appreciates having you around. I don’t think he’ll ever willingly let you leave.” She chuckled, but it was faint and flat and her eyebrows downturned only helped the playful tone run off into the thick summer air.

“I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon, if I can help it.” You reassure her. You couldn’t leave Star, nor the Feisty Five. And now you had another person you couldn’t leave. Even if the moment had soured, Ceroba seemingly plagued by something, you still considered her a friend. Still gossiped with her as if you were still a child. As if you were still innocent. That was worth staying for, on top of everything.

“Yeah.” Was all she said, her shoulders sinking with her words. Another silence settled as you fumbled with your own hands. “Just- Just make sure not to get too attached.” She mumbled out before standing up, and heading back inside without a word. 

And just like that, you were left alone once more. Only now, not even the air could carry with it the anonymity afforded to you prior. 

Now, everyone could see you.

***

“Whatcha doin’ out here all by yerself, deputy?”

“Just got a bit heated in there. That’s all.”

“Ah well, hope you don’t mind my company. I’ve missed havin’ you in there with me.”

“I have hardly been out here long!”

“Ah well, guess I’m just gettin’ too attached to you is all.”

“Haha… Yeah. Me too.”

#undertale #undertale yellow #uty #uty north star #uty starlo #starlo uty #north star uty #starlo #north star #undertale yellow starlo #undertale yellow north star #north star undertale yellow #starlo undertale yellow #fanfiction #north star x reader #starlo x reader #north star uty x reader #starlo uty x reader #no country for young humans

[penmansparadise]

Billy Hargrove ~ A Simple Car Ride

*I DON’T OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNER*

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem Munson!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Mild language

a/n: This was a requestfrom my Wattpad.  It's just some fun protective big brother Eddie and a little bit of Billy being a good boyfriend.  I mention the song Lunatic Fringe by Red Rider in here.  It's a good one, so go check it out.  It's actually off the Vision Quest soundtrack, which is a good 80s movie.  Typical teenage angst movie, but still good nonetheless.  Another good song that I didn't mention but that is also on the Vision Quest soundtrack is Journey's Only the Young (my personal favorite song by them).  So, check that one out too.  

I have slowly piecing together things for The Adventurer and the Dungeon Master.  I will say that I will probably release a playlist before I do anything.  Just to get you all in the mood lol.  Well, anyway, my next post will be Steve and Billy smut *insert eye emoji here* so be ready for that!  As always, thank you for all the support!!

§

Billy’s fingers traced the stitching of your jeans up the sides of your thighs. He leaned his head into the crook of your neck and nibbled a little on the soft skin there. You let out a little sigh as his fingers crept under the hem of your shirt and tickled the bare flesh on your waist. The warmth of his Camaro against your back was a stark contrast to his cold fingers. Your insides clenched. The combined sensations were driving you crazy. This wasn’t out of the ordinary for the two of you. Ever since you and Billy started dating, there were few things he enjoyed more than publicly showing you just how much he was into you.

You and Billy had been dating for a few months, but you had Billy chasing you for far longer. When he and Max first moved to Hawkins, he was like a hot commodity. Every girl wanted to be with him. He would flirt with them, and they would all swoon until they were putty in his hands. That was every girl, except you. Billy tried to hit on you once, and you publicly humiliated him when you rejected his advances in front of everyone. For anyone in their right mind, they would have given up. But Billy clearly wasn’t taking “No” for an answer. He just kept going back to you. Day after day, he would try and epically fail with his advances. Little did he know that he was slowly winning you over. You just weren’t letting him in on it.

It became a sort of game between you and Billy where he would approach you every day with something new. One day it was chocolate and a flirty pick-up line. The next day it was a stuffed bear and a sweet love note. You loved it, and soon, after several long months, you gave in and finally agreed to become Billy’s official girlfriend. But there was one person who made his dislike toward you and Billy very clear, and that was your brother, Eddie. He never liked Billy, so when you started dating, he couldn’t help but express his disapproval.

“He’s like a walking STD, Y/N,” Eddie had said one day while driving home from school.

“So, you’re telling me you’re thinking about my sex life?”

Eddie’s eye widened to the size of dinner plates.

“What!? Oh, God, no,” he said, gagging, “why would you even say that?”

Needless to say, that was the last time your brother discussed your relationship with you again.

Billy’s lips moved up your neck and over your cheeks until they connected with yours. You smiled into the kiss, then pulled back enough to look him in the eye.

“People are watching, Billy.”

Billy rolled his eyes before looking around the parking lot at the several onlookers.

“And?” He said, sliding his hands into your rear pockets and squeezing a little, “Let them. I want everyone to know your, mine.”

You chuckled.

“First of all,” you said, grabbing his forearms and pushing until his hands were off your ass and on your hips, “you don’t own me.”

He moaned as a smirk pulled at his lips.

“Hm, I love when you get feisty.”

“I bet you do,” you said, leaning forward a little before placing a swift kiss on his lips.

You tried to pull back, but Billy’s arms wrapped around your waist as his lips started attacking every exposed piece of skin he could find. Loud bouts of laughter bubbled out of you until you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned your head to see Eddie standing at a safe distance with his hands in his pant pockets. His eyes were trained on the asphalt in front of him, and he was rocking on the balls of his feet. He peeked up through his hair, and when he noticed you were looking, he fully raised his head.

“Are you ready, Y/N?”

You nodded, then turned back to Billy.

“I’ll see you later, babe,” you said, then planted another peck onto his lips.

“Okay, princess,” he said, and as you turned to walk toward your brother, he leaned to the side and said, “Nice to see you too, Eddie.”

Eddie gave him a tight-lipped smile, but when the two of you started moving toward Eddie’s van, his smile fell.

“Nice to see you too, Eddie,” he said in a mocking tone.

You rolled your eyes.

“Really, Eddie?”

“What?” He asked, hands going up in defense, “I didn’t say anything.”

You just scoffed and, when you reached the van, hopped into the passenger side.

“You know, I don’t know why you don’t like him?”

Eddie groaned as he tossed his backpack into the back.

“This again?”

“I’m serious,” you said, turning in the seat to face your brother. “I don’t know why you don’t just give him a chance.”

Eddie fished his keys out of his pocket and said, “Sorry if I don’t like the idea of Hawkins’ new bad boy parading my sister around.”

He shoved the key into the ignition and turned it, but the car just sputtered.

“He’s not parading me around,” you exclaimed, eyes narrowing.

Eddie stopped turning the key in the ignition and looked at you.

“Then what would you call it?”

“Being a proud boyfriend.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and then tried turning the key in the ignition again, but the van still did not start.

“Son of a bitch,” Eddie muttered before rubbing his hand along the steering wheel. “Come on, baby. Don’t do this now.”

Eddie turned the key again, and still nothing.

“Shit!” He shouted.

He let out a long groan and then placed his head on the steering wheel, repeatedly turning the key in the ignition. Your eyes went from your brother to the hood of the van and back until you started noticing smoke seep out the sides of the hood.

“Uh, Eddie?”

“Not now, Y/N. Please,” he said, forehead still resting on the steering wheel.

More puffs of white smoke began pouring out, and your eyes widened.

“No, Eddie,” you said, trying to slap his arm but too afraid to move your eyes from the smoke, “seriously.”

He sat up abruptly.

“I got this, okay? She’ll start up any second.”

Any second, the van could burst into flames, and you really didn’t want to be sitting in it when it did.

“Eddie!”

“What!?”

His hard stare was on you now, and you just pursed your lips and pointed out the front windshield.

“It’s smoking.”

Eddie’s head slowly turned to where you were pointing, and his face fell.

“Oh, fuck,” he said before struggling to unbuckle and get out of the driver’s side door.

You followed his lead and hopped out. But, just as you joined your brother, he popped the hood, and a large plume of smoke swallowed the two of you.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie said as he waved his hands around frantically to clear the smoke.

You crossed your arms over your chest.

“I thought you got Uncle Wayne to look at this thing.”

Eddie turned on you.

“Y/N, I,” he stopped, shutting his eyes and pushing out a stream of air through his nose before looking at you again. “He’s been a little busy lately.”

You threw your arms into the air as Eddie moved to look under the hood.

“So, what now? You don’t know anything about cars.”

“Yeah,” Eddie grumbled, “I know that, Y/N.”

You stared at your brother as he aimlessly grabbed things under the hood until a loud car pulled up beside you. You would know that sound anywhere. The low purr of a 1979 Camaro. It was Billy. You turned to see him leaning out the driver’s side window, eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey, princess. You guys alright?”

A burst of tingles ran through your body. You knew that he could tell you weren’t alright. You were standing outside of a smoking vehicle, for crying out loud. You just shook your head.

“No,” you said, exasperated, and used your thumb to gesture back toward Eddie, who was still smacking things around under the hood, “my genius brother neglected to get our uncle to look at his van, and now it won’t start.”

Billy put his car in park.

“I can check it out if you want.”

“Yes.”

“No,” Eddie said at the exact same time.

You shot Eddie a look, and he reciprocated it, but before he had the chance to send Billy away, you turned back to your boyfriend with a saccharine smile.

“We’d really appreciate it.”

Billy got out of his car, and you followed behind him to where Eddie was standing by the van. He didn’t waste any time going to check under the hood. When he stood back up, sweat was beading on his forehead, and he had oil on his hands. You watched as he rubbed his hands down the length of his thighs, and at that moment, you so wished that you were not stranded in the school parking lot. He brushed his blonde hair from his face and sighed.

“Well, I figured out what your problem is. Your gasket is blown.”

You and Eddie both looked at Billy befuddled.

“So, what does that mean?” You asked, shaking your head a little.

He grinned and let out a breathy laugh, looking down at his feet and then back up at you.

“It means unless you want your van to catch on fire, you need to get a tow.”

Eddie ran his hands over his face and groaned.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he mumbled.

Billy quirked a brow at you, then said, “Hey, I can give you guys a ride home.”

“Really?” You asked, and even you could hear the relief in your voice.

Billy walked over to you and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Of course, baby. Anything for you.”

You turned to face Eddie, who looked visibly repulsed not only by Billy but also by the idea of him driving you two home. But it only took a minute of you staring daggers at him to realize that Billy was the only option. So, he just nodded at you before gathering both of your bags and following you to the passenger side. Eddie opened the door, and you went to climb into the backseat, but he grabbed your arm, stopping you.

“Woah,” he said, “what are you doing?”

You narrowed your eyes at him and looked at the backseat, then back at him.

“Getting in the backseat with Max.”

Eddie leaned a little closer to you, lowered his voice, and whispered, “But he’s your boyfriend.”

“And?” You asked before yanking your arm from his grip and sliding in next to Max.

Eddie grumbled something to himself before getting into the passenger seat and shutting the door. Billy double-checked that everyone was in the car, cranked his radio, then sped out of the parking lot.

Lunatic Fringe by Red Rider shook the car as Billy drove down the road. The windows were down, and yours and Max’s hair was a twisted and tangled mess from the wind rushing through it. Eddie continued to look from the radio to Billy and back, and you smiled. If there was one thing that would connect your boyfriend and brother, it was going to be music. Billy finally caught on that Eddie was staring at him, and he laughed.

“What?” He shouted over the music.

Eddie shook his head.

“Nothing. I just didn’t think you liked this kind of stuff.” He pointed to the radio.

“What?” Billy asked, “Good music?”

The two of them started laughing, and you could feel your heart warming at the sound. You never thought you’d see the day when your brother and Billy were actually getting along. A smile pulled at the corners of your lips, and you looked at Billy through the rearview. It took him a second, but when he finally looked back at you, he sent you a wink before turning his attention back to the road. You bit your bottom lip and then leaned forward onto the center console.

“Hey, babe, did I ever tell you that my brother is also in a band?”

Billy chuckled.

“You may have mentioned it before.” He looked at Eddie. “Guitar, right?”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, “you play?”

“No, no,” Billy said, shaking his head, “but I’ve come to appreciate a good guitar solo.”

You could tell that Eddie was impressed and trying to contain his excitement. He picked at the fray on his black jeans and said, “You should come watch us play sometime.” He lifted his head to look at Billy. “We, uh, we play at The Hideout every Tuesday night.”

Billy smiled at him and nodded.

“Yeah, man. I’ll stop by.”

For the rest of the car ride, no one spoke. The only thing filling the dead space was the music blasting from Billy’s speakers. When he finally reached the trailer, he came to a stop. Eddie grabbed his bag and hopped out. You gave Max a side hug and then shimmied out of the back. You leaned over the passenger seat and gave Billy a quick kiss before grabbing your bag and rushing off toward Eddie.

“So?” You asked as Eddie pulled out his house key.

“So, what?”

“He’s not that bad now, is he?”

The two of you entered the house, and Eddie tilted his head back and forth before turning to face you.

“I guess he’s…alright.”

But he shot you a goofy grin, and you knew he thought Billy was more than alright. You laughed as Eddie headed back to his room, shutting the door behind him. You plopped onto the couch, a feeling of elation filling your entire body. If all it took for your brother to finally warm up to Billy was a car ride, you would have slashed the van’s tires months ago. You laughed to yourself at the thought as you relaxed, knowing that they may not be friends quite yet, but at least they were on talking terms now.  

Tag List: @violetrainbow412-blog​ @pastel-abyss-x​

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fandom #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine

[moonlightpirate]

Chapter one: The Bounty

Okay here is Chapter one of my one piece fic! Sorry it has taken so long!!! Feedback always welcome! The title is mostly self explanatory for what happens in the chapter so I'll let it do the talking for you :) again I've only watched live action so im basing my fic off of that 😅 it starts at the end of season one of live action where you see mihawk and shanks in the cove like area after mihawk has given shanks luffys bounty. Im having mihawk have one too many drinks to celebrate it and pass out with shanks

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @nikki-is-a-nerd @thetempleofthemasaigoddess @khaleesihavilliard @dclore22 @99point9percentwhump

Ao3

Masterlist

You sighed in frustration as you trudged along the beach, anger coursing through your body. The whole morning was a blur, and honestly, you weren't entirely sure how you ended up on this beach to begin with. After several minutes you decide to stop and gather your bearings. You place your hands on your hips and look around realizing that it is hot in the sun and you are totally exposed on this beach. Just ahead, you couldn't tell if it was a cave or a cove, but regardless, it looked like a great place to lay low while you came up with a plan and to get out of the burning sun for a little bit. As you made your way over, and started to get closer, you realized it was indeed a cove, and to your dismay, it wasn't unoccupied. 

"Hey, is that y/n?" An all too familiar voice called out to you. 

You put your hand on your sword as you slowly approached the group of men that were scattered around the cove. Once you got closer to the men you started to recognize the faces of the men. Sighing in relief that it was members of Shanks crew, you removed your hand from your sword and relaxed as you made your way over to Yassop and Benn, your eyes searching the cove looking for Shanks. 

"Yassop, Benn, guys how have you been?" You put on your biggest fake grin trying to appear okay. 

Your eyes landed on a familiar figure laying on the ground, and your fake smile faded. It was Mihawk, who of course was laying oddly close to Shanks.

"Shanks has had us just relaxing recently. Haven't been up to the adventures like you have been. We were just about to cook up some fish for breakfast. Do you want to join us while you wait for Shanks and Mihawk to wake? You can tell us about your adventures." Benn inquired, clearly noticing your face.

After a moment of staring at Mihawk in disbelief you finally look back up at Benn and Yassop, "Actually no I shouldn’t stay.....but I do have something I would love for you to give them when they do wake.".

You reach into your coat pocket and pull out a thin, rolled up piece of paper, and hand it over to Benn. 

"If this is about Luffy, don't worry, Shanks already knows. Mihawk brought us his bounty paper last night." Benn assured you.

"Oh....really.....is that so? Well, as much as I do wish, that was Luffy's wanted poster. I'm fairly certain that it is the wanted poster of someone that both Shanks and Mihawk will find much more intriguing than Luffy or so I can hope anyways. But really, I should be going, sorry to have disturbed you. Have a great day." You reply snarkily with a malicious grin on your face.

Before any other member of the crew can stop you or even respond, much less wake Shanks up, you turn on your heel and swiftly storm out of the cove. Once you're sure you're far enough away, you collapse in the sand and start to sob, feeling the weight of everything that was happening to you breaking your heart. 

Not long after you had left, Mihawk sat straight up, his eyes searching around the cove as if he was looking for someone, "Mi amor,” He whispered to himself, closing his eyes he knew he felt your presence, “She was just here, wasn’t she?”.  Mihawk inquired as he opened his eyes and looked at Benn and the crew sitting a little too solemnly around the food they were eating.

Benn nodded as he wasn't sure how to break the news to the warlord as they had opened the bounty poster you had given them and he knew Mihawk would be enraged by who was on it. He knew it was best to wait until Shanks was awake to tell him about the bounty poster.

"Where has she gone? Why was she here? What happened? Why didn’t you wake me?" Mihawk stood up, sensing something was incredibly wrong and began to fear for your life. 

Shanks groaned next to him, "Keep it down. Would you Hawk Eyes? Some of us are still trying to sleep.". 

"Captain, you should probably wake up." Benn replied, noticing the anger in Mihawk’s eyes and realized that they needed to tell him what happened.

Shanks rolled over and looked at everyone and began to rub sleep from his eyes, "why does everyone look so glum? What has happened?".

Yassop finally took the plunge and stood up and unrolled the bounty paper you had delivered earlier. 

"Y/N brought this to us earlier this morning. She wanted you guys to see it.".

Shanks immediately stood up and grabbed the paper from Yassop. His eyes were wide in shock as it was a picture of you with one of the highest bounties he had ever seen. He immediately looked at Mihawk, feeling a fire in his soul, "What did you do?! She has a bounty again! You were supposed to protect her!".

Mihawk was still looking at the paper in shock, not even listening to Shanks shouting at him. He couldn't believe the marines would go against him like this.

"Are you even listening to me? What did you do?" Shanks shouted at Mihawk again. 

"Why are you assuming it was something I did? Could have easily been something you did or even something she did herself." Mihawk retorted. 

"Regardless, you are supposed to protect her! How could you let this happen!".

"I have just found out the same as you. Let me talk to Garp and see what can be done about it, perhaps it was done in error.” Mihawk responded ignoring the fact that Shanks had his hand on his sword clearly wanting a fight.

Mihawk walked past Shanks and grabbed Yoru, put his hat on his head, and made his way out of the cove. Once out of sight Shanks turned to his crew, there was a fire in his eyes from how angry he was.

"She never should have chosen him. He can't even keep her safe from the marines! Boys pack up camp. We must do something to help her." Shanks instructed. 

"But sir...." The crew started to argue.

"Do not argue with me. Just do it." He demanded. 

Without hesitation, everyone quickly packed up the few things they had scattered around the cove and followed Shanks out. Once the cove was empty, a tall figure emerged from the shadows laughing. 

"Hmmmm, the woman Mihawk loves has a bounty. Not only that, but Shanks is enraged by the whole thing and is seeking to protect her. How interesting I think I could use this to my advantage." Kuro grinned, sneaking off in the direction that he had watched you storm off to.

#one piece #one piece live action #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x female reader #female reader insert #red haired shanks #shanks #benn beckman #benn beckman opla #yassop #shanks opla #dracule mihawk opla

[iknowsescapingjourneys]

(A/N: I have literally never written a fan fiction in my life so this is going to be an adventure. I have an eighteen chapter series planned for this if things go well. I am a white girl that grew up in the middle of nowhere, USA, so if I get any British slang wrong or accidentally mess up something when it comes to his culture, please correct me! I am completely open to concrit.

Other than that, there’s not many triggers in this chapter. Kinda new to Tumblr, I was an embarrassing teenager the last time, pls don’t look at my posts, so I don’t know what needs to be tagged. There’s some fighting, but nothing graphic or gory. Mentions of theft. That’s about it. I am going off of the interview with the directors that say that he is an adult, and there will be smut in later chapters.

Please let me know what you think! I will also do requests for one-shots if anyone has anything in particular they’d like to see.)

Reckless Driving

Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader

Chapter 1

The crunch of glass beneath the PVC of Doc Martins seems to become an increasingly familiar sound. The stretch and curl of fingers in her gloves causes the sound of metal claws scraping together to echo through the showroom of the commercial jewelry store, barely audible as an alarm blares heavily above her head. The night vision equipped in her helmet makes it easy to see the glass case she’s peering down at, and with a slam of a gloved, clawed fist, the barrier shatters into a hundred sharp, sparkling pieces that fall to the floor and the display below. Claws curl easily around necklaces and rings, dropping them into the cargo pockets of her pants.

She knows how long it takes the police to show up, and she knows that she has three minutes left, if she’s lucky. She’s been here longer than she usually prefers to be, having had a difficult time busting the first display open. The police scanner in her ear chatters away, reports of her misconduct and theft a hot topic. She scoots to her left, repeating her earlier process, and zipping up the pocket when it feels heavy against her thigh.

She turns on her heel to dash to the employee exit in the back, but finds herself colliding with something, a mix of blue and red and black. She stumbles back, eyes widening beneath her masked helmet. Her first instinct is Spiderman, who she is more than well acquainted with, and not in any way that could be deemed positive. Her fist flies through the air without thought, stopped short when it’s grabbed mid trajectory and used to push her back into the broken display case. Her back arches to avoid sharp shrapnel, and she kicks a leg up, outsole colliding with a denim clad knee.

Denim? She pauses her onslaught long enough to get a good look at who exactly has wandered into her crime scene. An eyebrow raises beneath the LEDs of her helmet as she takes him in. This, this was not Spiderman. What looked to be heavy liner circled the mask’s eyes, dripping down below the eye holes. The suit was covered in spikes, both built into it and adorned with bracelets, and belts, and even protruding from the leather jacket that hung loosely on his frame. A guitar was strapped across his back, strings messily sprouting from string trees.

She was pulled from her analysis when a heavy boot made contact with her chest, sending her flying back into the cash register of the jewelry store. She could hear sirens approaching over the sound of the alarm screaming, and she knew flashing lights were only moments away. Her eyes flickered back up to the man encroaching on her space like a predator stalking its prey.

“Man, look at the time,” She spouts, notes of sarcasm and nervousness sprinkled throughout her otherwise surprisingly even tone. “Guess I should probably head out.” She continues, throwing her upper body to the side to avoid another well aimed kick. This time she notices the yellow and blue of ladder laced cords.

“Blue laces, huh? Seems like an odd color for someone working with the cops.” She taunts, managing to pull herself over the counter of the cash register, shoving open the door to the back room with her own boot as she backs herself up.

The man seems to pause for a moment, running his eyes over her figure with a look of confused conflict. “Y’know lace code?” He asks, and she can’t help the laugh that bubbles from her throat.

His accent is thick, and it’s immediately apparent to her that he is not from around here, though New York was known to have a melting pot of people. His voice is deep, but not intimidatingly so, and she finds she actually quite likes it, even from the small sampling she’s heard so far. Her eyes glance down to her own laces, strung up in a similar fashion. One side yellow, the other side purple.

“I might,” She finally answers with a grin, knowing that the duration between the question and her answer was probably long enough that he knows she was taken aback by his accent.

She turns the lock to the back exit with clawed fingers, being as delicate and quiet as possible as she continues to attempt to distract him long enough to get herself out the door.

The heel of her palm presses against the metal lever of the doorknob, her eyes locking on a shelving unit just a leg’s distance away.

“I like the pin,” She mentions, gesturing with her head towards the large A of the anarchy symbol adorned on his jacket. When he glances down in an effort to see which one her eyes have locked on, she kicks her leg out, sending the shelf crashing between them, creating a makeshift barrier.

She knows if he’s anything like the Spiderman she’s used to, he’ll make quick work of throwing it to the side, but it’s a divider long enough for her to slam her hand down and barrel out of the metal door keeping her from her motorcycle.

The pads of her non-gloved fingers press down hard on a button strapped to her thigh and the bike roars to life in a brilliant light show, greens and purples illuminating the dark alley. She throws a leg over the seat, straddling across the leather as her foot slams into the gas, lurching forward as the metal door flies open again to reveal the lanky frame of the man she’d fought with moments prior.

By that point though, she was practically a bat out of hell, motorcycle weaving through alleys so fast that she wasn’t much more than a blur. To be fair, she’s well aware that he could probably catch up to her if he wanted to, using the webs to leap from building to building. Track her down, wrap her up, deliver her to the police.

For some reason, it doesn’t surprise her when he doesn’t.

______________________________

He couldn’t be arsed to chase after you, if he was being honest. First of all, this was a chain, and the markups on the shit they sold was enough to make his anarchist blood boil. Combined with the fact that the cops were out to get her, (and he would rather die than be seen working in collaboration with pigs), it seemed less than important to go swinging through a city he wasn’t entirely familiar with to repossess some cliché engagement rings and some overly gaudy necklaces.

So he knew it wasn’t guilt about letting her get away that rattled around in his head a day later. That conclusion lead him to where he was now: staring down at his boots as they moved him through the night, barely cognizant of what was going on around him as he shifted through thoughts that seemed to pop up faster than he could shoo them away, akin to pop-ups on a shady website.

His tongue ran back and forth over the metal of his lip ring, feeling the shift of piercing to flesh with each passing movement. A stem he often found himself utilizing when he was overwhelmed with his own mind.

He’s only pulled from his thoughts when a familiar sound erupts through the silent air from across the park he’s meandering through. His head snaps in the direction of the noise, pierced brows furrowing slightly. The rumble of a bass guitar, clearly played by someone with experienced fingers, because the tune sounded incredible.

Through the light foliage, definitely planted by a city council in order to make the area look more ‘organic’, he was just capable of making out a feminine frame propped on the black plastic playground border. He couldn’t say he recognized the song, but it definitely had an edge to it. A bite. He liked it.

She didn’t seem to notice him as he made his way over, eyes locked on the way her fingers caressed four thick strings, and the way they reverberated as she pulled away from each one, the timbre of each note filling the air.

“A little late to be putting on a show, innit?”

He can’t choke back the laugh that climbs from his chest when her head swings up to make eye contact with him, her fingers stuttering on strings that release a roar upon her mis-strum. He makes note of the way her eyes widen, akin to a deer stuck in the headlights of a car. Clearly she wasn’t used to people stumbling upon her little solo jams.

“Not much of a show.”

The woman in front of him mumbles, her eyes downcast once again in embarrassment, though he was just capable of making out the dusting of blush that adorned the apples of her cheeks. He settled himself on the plastic divider next to her, brushing off a piece of mulch that threatened to fall to the grass outside of its designated area.

“Not sure about that, princess. Can’t say I wasn’t enjoying it.”

He watches her blink a few times, face twisting in confusion a little as she glances up at him. He takes the chance to let his eyes wander the details of her complexion: the little laugh lines on the corners of her lips and nose, the way her eyes shimmer in the dim light of the lamp post, the gloss applied to her lips.

“Princess?”

She asks, and he realizes that she thinks he’s some prat trying to harass her in the middle of the night. He gives an apologetic smile, his lip ring reflecting the lighting and enunciating the gesture.

“Seems like I’m about to make a total cock-up of this whole situation.”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his hand against his forehead, warm flesh brushing cold metal bumps of thick metal captive beads.

“Promise I’m not tryna chat you up. It’s just a ‘abit.”

He watches her frame deflate from the bristled posture it held moments prior, and he relaxes slightly as well, leaning back as palms dig into rough wood shavings. His eyes wander her before he gets to her shirt and the back of his large, ringed hand hits her shoulder.

“You like R&B?”

He asks, fingers gripping on the hem of the black material and pulling it slightly to flatten the material so he can get a better look at it. Her lips twitch in discomfort for a moment, an action he doesn’t miss, and he pulls his hands away, not embarrassed but feeling a little bad for what definitely seemed like harassing this girl now.

“Erykah Badu is the background track to just about every trip I’ve been on.”

She says softly after an extended silence, and the little grin that climbs the corner of her lips is not lost on him. Maybe she wasn’t completely under the impression he’d lost the plot. He pulls his phone from his pocket, glancing at the time.

Then he glances at it again, eyes widening. How had he managed to fuck around until two in the morning? If people weren’t pissed because they were looking for him, they’d be pissed the next morning when he couldn’t drag his arse out of bed.

He was honestly a little disheartened by the fact that he’d managed to absolutely flounder the entire conversation, just to pick himself up right as he had to leave.

“Really should get going. I’m absolutely gutted I couldn’t ‘ear you play more of that bass.”

He says with a grin, long legs pulling to a stand as he tried to remember what direction he’d come from and how to get back. His spidey-senses tingle right before his hand wraps around his wrist, and he yanks it away at the last second out of instinct. She seems dissuaded by the rejection, and he does his best to soothe the burn with a grin.

“Sorry, doll. Just not used to being touched.”

He apologizes, raising horizontally pierced brows as an invitation for her to speak her mind. It’s the least he could do for harassing her and then fucking off right as they started to actually have a conversation.

“Do you think I could have your number?”

He’s no stranger to being hit on. He’s no stranger to being the one to hit on others, either. And he can’t deny that she’s a very beautiful woman. Still, he knows better. This isn’t his universe, and he’s not here to make friends, and especially not here to shag around whatever version of New York this was.

“I’m flattered, really. Can’t say I think that’s the brightest idea though. I could be mad, y’know?”

The woman’s shoulders drop slightly at being pied off, and he reaches out to set a hand on the pewter gray of the shoulder of her shirt.

“Don’t take it personal though, princess. I’ve just got a lot on my shoulders at the moment.”

He reassures, letting his hand drop back down to his side and turning on his heel before he stared at her too long and changed his mind. The last thing he needed to do was find himself attached to a civilian, especially one that he’d have to dimension hop for. The cons far outweighed the pros.

Hobie Brown was a rebel, but he wasn’t daft.

#hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader

[justcallmefox89]

Cinderfella's Adventures in Cordonia - Chapter Twenty

An AU of The Royal Romance with a male MC and a bisexual prince.

Masterlist

Drake and Liam learn more about Callum's past.

“What’s going on, Pops?” Callum asks again.

“You’re back earlier than I expected,” Niall answers, shooting a dirty look at Donny.

The blonde man shrugs nonchalantly, taking a pack of cigarettes from his jack pocket and tapping it against the palm of his hand.

“Yeah… turns out there wasn’t a problem at the club after all.”  Callum narrows his eyes at his father.

Niall innocently widens his eyes.  “I must have misunderstood.”

“Then you just mistakenly let yourself into my apartment while I was out?”

“I do own the building, Callum,” Niall sniffs.  “Technically I can go into any apartment I want to, with or without your permission.”

Donny lets out a slightly breathy and panicked, “Oh shit.”

Drake’s eyes bounce back and forth between the men like ping-pong balls and Liam sits rigidly next to him, tension evident in every line of his body.

“That’s how we’re going to do this?  Seriously, Pops?  You didn’t try that line on me when I was sixteen but you’re doing it now?”

“You had better sense at sixteen,” Niall snaps.  “Back then you weren’t jumping at the chance to ruin your life every time a hot piece of ass smiled at you.”

“I need a smoke,” Donny suddenly announces loudly.  He points at Liam and Drake.  “You two.  Come with me.”

Confused, Liam blurts out, “We don’t smoke.”

“You can hold my lighter,” Donny replies, tugging the pair to their feet.

Ioan rises from his chair.  “I think I’ll join you -”

“You better keep your ass in that chair, old man,” Callum grinds out between clenched teeth.

Stunned at his grandson’s tone, Ioan plops back into his seat, and Donny seizes the opportunity to hustle Drake and Liam out onto the balcony.  He manages to slam the sliding glass door closed just as the shouting starts.

“What the actual FUCK were you two thinking?” Callum yells.

Donny lights a cigarette and inhales deeply, letting the pale grey smoke slowly curl out of his nostrils.  “I hope the two of you are pleased with yourselves.”

“Us?”  Liam gapes, pointing between himself and Drake.  “You think this is our fault?”

“Isn’t it?”  He takes another drag.  “Callum was fine, happy again.  You two are back in his life less than three days and him and his father are at each other’s throats with Ioan snapping at their heels.”

Liam’s cheeks flush and he scowls.  “The MacKenzie family’s dysfunction has nothing to do with us.”

“It has everything to do with you, cupcake.”

Drake braces his forearms on the railing that runs around the perimeter of the balcony.  “I didn’t mean for anything like this to happen.  I never wanted to cause Callum any problems.”

He sounds so miserable that Donny takes pity on him.  “I know you didn’t mean to, kid.  But goddamn… why couldn’t you just stay away?”

The voices from the living room get louder and the three men wince in unison.

“He’s going back with you,” Donny says, flicking his cigarette butt onto the ground and crushing it with the toe of his boot.

Liam sighs.  “He hasn’t made a decision one way or the other yet.”

“I know my son.  He’ll go.”

Drake and Liam exchange startled looks.

Donny chuckles at their shocked expressions.  “I’ve been raising that boy for nearly thirty years, and I’ve been with Niall for almost as long.  Callum’s my son.”

“We didn’t realize…” Drake trails off, embarrassed.

“Did Callum ever tell you about his mother?”

“From the way he phrased it I assumed she died when he was very young,” Liam says slowly.

Donny barks out a harsh laugh.  “Fuck.  That woman will still be alive when there’s only cockroaches roaming the earth.”

Drake’s mouth drops open and Liam frowns uncomfortably.

Taking in their shocked expressions Donny sighs and lights another cigarette.  “That was probably unfair to Cassie.  We’ve always had a… complicated relationship.”

“So his mom is alive?” Drake asks.

Donny shrugs.  “He’s never met her.  She showed up once when he graduated high school.  Niall almost had an aneurysm.  She futzed around a bit, said she wanted to finally meet her son.  But in the end she did what she always does and disappeared before anything could happen.  Thank god we didn’t tell the kid anything and get his hopes up.”

“How did… How long… um…” Liam flounders, unable to articulate the potentially offensive question.

“You wanna know how I fit in to all this?”  Donny grins around the cigarette in his mouth.

Drake and Liam nod in unison.

“I met Niall when I started working for Ioan, back when the old man was still running everything.  I was young, stupid, pissed at the world.  Dishonorably discharged from the military.  At the beginning I was just supposed to be muscle at a few of the different strip joints, but for whatever reason Ioan took me under his wing.  Brought me into his home, started teaching me about the business.”

“Is that when you started dating?” Liam asks.

Donny laughs and rolls his eyes.  “Fuck no.  Back then there was no telling me I was anything but straight.  But we got to be friends and if I had the occasional thought about how good his ass looked then I would just ignore it.  I knew Niall batted for both teams and it never bothered me… but back then I just wasn’t ready to accept certain things about myself, you know?”

“Oh, I know.”  Drake gives Liam a slightly dirty look from the corner of his eye and the king’s cheek flush a soft pink.

“Anyway, one night we’re out with some of our other friends doing a bar crawl and we wind up at this dive that has live music.”  Donny stubs out his cigarette on the balcony railing.  “Cassie’s band was playing that night.  I hate to say anything nice about the woman but she’s a fuckin’ stunner and goddamn talented to boot.  Long story short Niall starts chattin’ her up after her band has finished for the night and they start seein’ each other.  This goes one for a few months, and Niall and I started drifting apart a little.  I didn’t really understand it then, but looking back I was jealous of Cassie and seeing them together… hurt.”

“I get that,” Drake murmurs softly, looking down at his feet.  With a sad smile, Liam silently reaches out and takes his hand.

“So after they’ve been together a few months Niall gets picked up on some charges related to uh… a few substances that were being sold out of a few of the clubs.  Gets sentenced to five to ten.  Cassie disappears.”  Donny rolls his eyes. “Me and Ioan weren’t all that surprised, she was never all that serious about Niall and it’s hard enough being in a relationship with somebody on the inside when you’re committed.  We moved on thinkin’ she was gone for good.  Niall being locked up was hell on the old man, and I wasn’t taking it much better, but we were doing the best we could.  Then about eight months into Niall’s sentence, I get a phone call from Cassie.”

Drake and Liam lean forward, drawn in by the older man’s story.

“So it’s two in the morning, and I’ve got this chick I can’t stand calling me at the club I was working at that night.  I was ready to tell her to piss off, but she starts crying, telling me she’s at the hospital and I’m the only one she can call for help.  And me being a total fucking sucker I went to the hospital because I knew that’s what Niall would’ve wanted.  I show up and she’s in a hospital room, lying in bed, holding a fucking baby of all things.”

“Callum,” Liam says quietly.

“Bingo.”  Donny shoots a pair of finger guns towards him.  “At first I didn’t know what the hell to think.  Honestly I just wanted to leave her there and pretend I never saw a thing.  She breaks down crying again, saying she doesn’t know what to do, didn’t know who to call since Niall’s in prison, she’s scared of Ioan, she needs help, and on and on.”

“Wait, why was she scared of Ioan?” Drake asks.

“You’ve met the old man, yeah?  Are you scared of him now?”

Without hesitation Drake and Liam both nod.

“Now imagine him thirty years ago and pretend you’ve been hiding the fact that you were pregnant with his only son’s child.”

The pair shudder.    

Donny nods.  “Exactly.  I didn’t know what the fuck to do anymore than she did, and I told her so.  She begged me to stay with her just a little while, asks me to hold the kid so she could take a shower and get some things situated with the hospital.  I didn’t have the heart to say no.  I mean, the poor girl had been alone in the hospital with a brand new baby for three days at that point, I figured that was the least I could do for her.  So she gives me the kid, just this squishy little thing, and I settle down with him while she goes to clean up.  He was the cutest fucking thing, all fuckin’ chubby baby rolls and this thick, curly black hair.  I didn’t mean to but as some point I fell asleep holding him.  Next thing I know, Callum is screaming his lungs out and I got a pissed off nurse shaking me awake asking me where Cassie was.”

“And where was Cassie?” Liam asked.

“Fuck if I know.  As soon as I fell asleep she grabbed her shit and got the hell out of dodge.”

“She just left her baby with you?  Without telling you where she was going?  She didn’t even really know you!” Drake exclaims.

“I feel like we’ve already established she’s not a good mom, kid.”  Donny gives him an exasperated look.  “So I’ve got Callum, fresh out of the oven, Niall’s locked up, and I don’t have the first fucking clue how to find Cassie.  I’m only 28, living in a shitty apartment, spending nearly all my free time drunk, high, or both.”

Drake starts to speak, hesitates, then powers on.  “Why didn’t you just call Ioan and let him take care of it?”

“Siobhan, Callum’s grandma, was fighting a losing battle with breast cancer.  Ioan wasn’t handling it well… didn’t seem fair to add something else to the bullshit he was dealing with.  He wasn’t in the best headspace then anyway.  Siobhan was the only thing he cared about, only thing he could focus on.  Even if I wanted to let him have Callum I don’t think he would’ve been able to take care of him.  So I told the hospital I was Callum’s father, signed the birth certificate and everything.  Cassie hadn’t even named the kid yet, so I had to do that too.”

“You named Callum?”  Liam arches an eyebrow in question.

Donny’s cheeks turn pink and he squirms in place, an oddly endearing gesture for a man in his fifties.  “I knew Niall would want to honor his dad in some way, so the middle name was easy.  Then I just thought about what name I’d want to use if Niall and I would ever… you know,” he mumbles.

Liam and Drake share a conspiratorial smirk.  “That’s adorable,” Liam says.

Donny coughs, looking slightly uncomfortable.  “Anyways.  The nurses gave me a crash course in fatherhood then shoved me out the door.  I waited a few days before I told Ioan and Siobhan… I wanted some time to think on what I was going to do.  I brought Callum to their house, told them everything that happened, and said I wanted to take care of Callum until Niall got out.  Siobhan wasn’t on board at first, and I don’t blame her.  I was young and stupid, never taken care of a baby before, didn’t know a damn thing about kids.  But for whatever reason, I knew I was meant to protect that baby.  Ioan was relieved, in a way, I think.  God only knows why but he trusted me with his grandson, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay him for that.”

“What did Niall have to say about everything when he found out?” Drake asks.

“Oh he was pissed,” Donny laughs.  “He would’ve taken care of Cassie if she’d told him she was pregnant, made sure she had everything she needed.  But the fact that she just abandoned Callum without a word was the thing that really rustled his jimmies.  He would’ve forgiven anything else but that I think.”

“How did that work though?” Liam asks delicately.  “With Niall being… indisposed?”

“You can say he was in prison, Your Majesty.”  Donny smirks.  “Niall didn’t want Callum to see him in that place, so they didn’t actually properly meet until Callum was six.  Niall wrote letters every week, and I read them to him.  Things got a little more complicated when Callum started to talk and then he had a whole lot of questions.  I always made sure he knew that Niall was his dad, but I never let him forget just how much I loved him too.  The adjustment period after Niall got out was rough on all of us.  Callum didn’t want to leave me, and Niall didn’t want to be away from his son.  Understandably.  So Niall got a bigger apartment and Callum and I moved in with him.”

“So is that when you and Niall got together?”

Donny grins at Drake question.  “Not quite.  By that time I had pulled my head out of my ass enough to realize that I wasn’t quite as straight as I wanted to believe.  It was a couple more years before Niall and I got into a proper relationship.  But that is a story for another time.”

Donny sighs and runs his hands through his hair.  “Look, at the end of the day Callum is going to do whatever he wants to do… no matter what me, Niall, or Ioan have to say about it.  Just… just take care of my boy, ok?  Try not to hurt him any more than you absolutely have to.”

“I don’t… I never want to hurt Callum,” Liam protests.

“Are you still going to marry that girl you’re engaged to?”

Liam stay silent, anxiously gnawing on his lower lip.

“Then he’s going to be hurt,” Donny replies with a sad smile.  He looks through the sliding glass door into the living room, frowning.  “Shit.”

Drake and Liam whip around just in time to see Niall glare up at his son one last time before stalking out the front door, Ioan following closely behind him.  Callum tips his head back and his shoulders slump, but he quickly collects himself and moves into the kitchen.

“That went about as well as I thought it would,” Donny sighs.  “Give me a few minutes.”

Drake and Liam wait out on the balcony while Donny says goodbye to Callum.

“We’re being selfish,” Drake says eventually.

Liam glances over at him.  “Excuse me?”

“We have royally fucked up Callum’s life.”

“I see what you did there.”  The Cordonia king smirks over at his friend.

Drake shoves him away half-heartedly.  “Stop.  I’m being serious.  I wasn’t thinking about Callum when I dragged him back into this.  Not the way I should have.”

“I don’t understand.”

“When we got to New York all I was focused on was finding Callum again because I missed him.  Because I wanted to remind you that you could actually be with someone you loved instead of Madeline.  I didn’t think about what would happen to his life, how all of us being back together would affect him.”

“Considering how close the two of you have gotten I wouldn’t say our returning presence has been all bad.”

Drake blushes furiously.  “I...  That’s not…  Liam!”

“Just saying.”  Liam shrugs innocently. 

“What I meant was that I only considered how having Callum back would make our lives better, make us happier.  I didn’t even stop to think about what that would mean for his life here… with his family, and his job, and his other friends.  How can we ask him to leave all that for us again?  Especially when you’re still going through with the wedding to Madeline.”

Liam groans.  “Why do we keep having to go over this?  I have a duty, an obligation to Cordonia.  That doesn’t mean we can’t be together.  All three of us.”

“This!”  Drake smacks Liam’s chest.  “This right here is the problem!  Callum won’t be happy just being your affair on the side.”

“And you will be?” Liam challenges.

“Of course I won’t!  But if that’s the price I have to pay to be with you again I will.  Callum can’t do that though.”

Liam scowls.  “Can’t or won’t?”

“That’s not fair,” Drake sighs.

“What Callum’s asking isn’t fair either.”

“Callum actually isn’t asking you to do anything,” Drake points out.  “He only told you what he was willing and not willing to do given the circumstances.”

Liam falls silent, unable to come up with a reasonable counter argument.  The pair stare out at the bustling city streets for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.

Drake is the first one to break the silence.  “Liam, what are we going to do?”

@superharriet

@angelasscribbles

@kingliam2019

#pixelberry #choices #pb choices #choices fanfic #trr drake #choices stories you play #the royal romance #choices trr #trr fanfic #trr #drake walker #liam rys #the royal romance drake #trr liam x male mc #trr mc x liam #trr liam #the royal romance liam #king liam #trr drake x male mc #trr drake walker #callum mackenzie #cinderfellas adventures in cordonia #cinderfella in cordonia #choices the royal romance #the royal romance maxwell #the royal romance olivia #trr male oc #trr male mc #trr male #choices game

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Young Love and Old Money

Summary: this series follows the story of Lewis Nixon and Josephine Wills and their trials, tribulation and love throughout WW2, including stories of their friends in between. Warnings: swearing, mentions of war, heartbreak.

Masterlist Moodboard

Holland 1944

Josie’s hands screamed out in anguish as she submerged the broken skin in steaming hot water. The blisters and cuts protested as she did her best to clean the dried blood. Josie could barely remember the last time her hands had been free from the crimson, iron substance. The water very quickly had streams of red drifting across the white porcelain bowl. She wiped her hands dry carefully before emptying the water outside into the boggy path beside the entrance to the aid station. Her lungs burned as she inhaled deeply, breathing in the first fresh air she’d had in hours. The air inside the aid station was stale, thick with the smell of blood and the cries of men in agony. There had been many casualties after Market Garden, British and American troops came pouring in in droves. Each bringing with them at least a dozen wounded men at a time.

Josie perched on one of the empty wooden crates outside, her legs groaning in relief as she took the weight off of them, stretching them out and feeling the muscles burn in anguish. She dug into her filthy apron pocket and pulled out a packet of lucky strikes, along with several pieces of paper that followed, drifting slowly to the floor before Josie could retrieve them. She lit her cigarette and began to read over the letter. The first one was from her husband. She’d been so relieved when Lewis returned from Normandy, maybe a little battered and bruised but still her Lewis. A large smile spread across his lips the second their eyes met and it was safe to say that neither of them left their bed for at least three days after his return. But their bliss was short-lived and soon Lewis was back at Littlecote in briefings, planning and training. Josie supposed it was the downside of being an Intelligence Officer but she couldn’t mind the situation because at least she knew he was safe all the time he was in meetings. Julian and George were pleased to be back in England and whenever they had passed would persuade Josie to join them on whatever escapade or trouble they were getting involved with. Despite Josie knowing what kind of chaos the pair could cause Josie willingly joined in, relishing in the feeling of the carefree nature they had as children. On one of these adventures, she met the charismatic David Webster. They had an instant connection bonding over their love of literature and whilst Julian and George were off frolicking somewhere Webster would discuss classic books and authors he enjoyed. Josie was delighted to tell him about her time and Oxford and it just so happens that Webster was going to Harvard and he planned to finish his studies after the war.

Aldbourne 1944 (pre Market Garden)

It was on one of the sunny afternoons when Webster and Josie were walking back through town, that Lewis and Dick drove past in a jeep. The jeep swerved past them, screeching on its brakes before reversing back up the road towards the pair. Josie smiled as she saw her husband approaching.

“Lewis!” She called out, waving excitedly but Lewis’ face was sour, his lips set in a thin line and his dark eyebrows scrunched together.

“WEBSTER!” He barked, “Haven’t you got latrine duty?”

“No, Sir. I think it’s Perconte, Muck and Malarkey’s turn.” David admitted, shuffling from foot to foot a little awkwardly under the Captain’s gaze.

“Run along, Webster,” Lewis glared as he watched Webster tell you goodbye before hurrying back towards the town of Aldbourne, glancing behind him as if he was afraid Lewis would try to run him down.

“Lew, what was that for,” Josie chided, climbing into the back of the jeep, placing a quick kiss on her husband’s cheek and giving Dick a quick hello. Lewis didn’t answer, instead, he chose to glare out the smeared windscreen and down the road where Webster had retreated.

“Lew?” Josie asked, placing a hand on his shoulder but withdrew when he flinched under her touch.

“How long have you known him?” Lewis demanded, turning in his seat to face her, his eyes wild and if Josie hadn’t known better she’d have thought he’d have run after Webster and beaten him to a pulp.

“A few weeks. Since you all returned from Normandy. I met him when I was out with George and Julian.” Josie replied, feeling anger build inside her at the question. What did it matter how long she had known David Webster for?

“How much time have you been spending with him?” Lewis didn't relent on his questions and Josie wasn’t prepared to stand for it.

“Not much. We’ve met up a few times. He also studied literature so we talked about books we like. What does it matter to you anyway? You’re never around anyway.”

Something in Lewis snapped and he threw his hands up in anguish, “Oh well I’m so sorry there’s a war on and I happen to be the Intelligence Officer. How stupid of me to think that you’d wait around for your husband when he’s helping with the war effort.”

Josie's blood boiled as she let rip all the pent-up feelings she’d been bottling up during her days of loneliness. “Well, you should be sorry! I understand you’re part of the war effort Lewis, I think you forget England has been fighting since 1939! Do you have any idea what it’s like to be left here alone not knowing if your husband and friends will return and when they do he doesn’t even have time for you.”

Josie could see Dick pulling at the sleeve of his uniform uncomfortably, his jaw working overtime as he ground his teeth anxiously. “Lewis, I…” but Lewis interrupted him.

“So when you’re so lonely you jump into the bed of the first man who looks at you.” Lewis retorted, his chest heaved from the effort, the brown material growing tight over his broad shoulders.

Josie gasped, her face was now bright red and scrunched as she tried to control the unshed tears building in her brown eyes. The last thing she needed was to break down in front of Lewis, it would make her look guilty in some way.

“HOW DARE YOU! You’ve got some damn nerve, Lewis Nixon. I’ll tell you this once and once only. I would never cheat on my husband. Never! I can’t believe you think so little of me. I thought you loved me,” Josie felt a strangled sob leave her lips at that last sentence and the look on Lewis’ face told her that he’d crossed the line.

“I do love you, Josie… I’m…” but Josie was already climbing back out of the jeep, hurriedly bunching her skirt into her hand and jumping down onto the pavement.

“Josie, please…” Lewis swallowed hard, blinking back the tears and began to climb out of the vehicle but she stopped him, her voice shaking and utterly broken.

“Don’t follow me.” Josie turned away from him, tears falling down her rosy cheeks and Lewis felt his heart break even more. He had never felt such a pain in his chest and had it been under any other circumstances he would have gone to Doc Roe thinking he was having a heart attack. But Lewis knew this pain all too well. It was the same pain he’d felt when he heard about Josie’s engagement to William, only this time it was his fault.

“Lew, come on we have to go. Colonel Sink is expecting us,” Dick called, his voice calm and collected as ever acting as though he hadn’t just watched the scene unfold before him.

“What have I done, Dick?” Lewis pleaded, his eyes watering and his distraught face resembling that of a puppy that had been left at home alone for the first time. “Do you think she will come back?”

“I don’t know, Lew,” Dick replied honestly because in truth he didn’t know. Josie was proud and headstrong but even she could be broken and by the looks of things Lewis had broken her. “I don’t know, Lew.”

Lewis stood on the steps to the house, a bunch of roses in his right hand and his other wrapped tightly around the door knocker. He waited, wondering if she would open the door if she’d let him inside. He’d been rehearsing what he was going to say all day. He’d paid very little attention during the meeting with Colonel Sink, much to Dick’s dismay who spent most of his time elbowing Lewis to keep him focused. A shuffling noise came from the other side of the door and Lewis waited with bated breath as it freaked open revealing Josie's tear-stained face.

“Lew?” Her voice was cracked and feebly, nothing like her normal lively tone. She sounded broken. “I hope you’re here to grovel because I have nothing else to say to you.”

“I am,” Lewis replied quickly, taking a small step forward. “I’m here to grovel so damn bad that the others would laugh at me but I don’t care. I’ll get down on my knees if I have to.”

Josie quickly grabbed his arm as Lewis went to kneel before her and for the first time in their relationship, he didn’t smell of whiskey.

“You haven’t been drinking?”

“No. Not a drop all day. I swear,” Lewis looked down at his scuffed leather boots, they were in dire need of polish, his uniform was also creased and his hair ruffled. He hasn’t shaved in several days either. “When I asked you to marry me I promised I’d be the best man for you but I haven’t been. You could do so much better than me but I promised I’d change for you and so far I’ve only broken my promise.” Josie watched as the tears began to fall down his unshaven cheeks, she wanted to reach out, to comfort him but she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt him. “I haven’t had a drink all day because I don’t want to keep breaking that promise. I had Dick clear out his footlocker. No more Vat 69 for Mrs Nixon’s baby boy.” He tried to joke but the laugh was caught in his throat.

He looked up at his wife with desperation, his hands clasped around hers. “Josie, I’m begging for your forgiveness. I’m so sorry for what I said about Webster and the accusations. I never meant them, I know you’d never do that to me.” Lewis let out a muffled cry and he knelt on the cold, concrete steps, “I’m such a mess Josie and you don’t deserve this but I need you. After my divorce, I turned to alcohol and I know I shouldn’t have but I’m weak. I’m so weak but you make me stronger, you make me better.”

Josie couldn't stand it anymore. She threw herself into Lewis’ arms, burying her head in his stubbly neck. “I love you but you're an idiot.”

“I know I am. I know I am. I love you too. More than anything else.” Josie pulled herself away from his body, cupping his cheeks in her hands.

“I love you, Lewis, please don’t break my heart again.”

“Never.” Their lips brushed softly together and as if by some higher power the heavens opened up. Rain poured in great torrents from the heavens, soaking the couple on their doorstep.

“What is it with you and your confessions in the rain?” Josie laughed, grabbing her husband's hand and dragging him inside.

Josie’s eyes scanned over Lewis' letter for what felt like the hundredth time. Each one of his loving words etched into her mind. The next letter was from David Webster. He spoke of the harsh conditions, life in their foxholes, and the casualties. His once bright light seemed to have dimmed since they had last spoken. Her next letter was frayed at the edges and severely crumpled from the times she had read it. It was from Julian and partly from George too, who had his input in the letter. It spoke mainly of their childhood, happier times in Aldbourne that brought them all joy. Josie smiled, running her fingers over Julian’s scruffy writing.

“NURSE! NURSE WE NEED SOME HELP!” One of the medics called, pulling abruptly to a halt, launching himself out of the jeep to help the wounded man in the back. Josie was quickly on her feet, discarding her cigarette and shoving the letters back into her apron pocket. Correspondence home would have to wait.

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @malarkgirlypop @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @merriell-allesandro-shelton @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines

#young love and old money #lewis nixon x oc #lewis nixon #band of brothers #band of brothers series

[shegatsby]

The Last of Us

Warnings; Post apocalyptic world, mention of suicide. Men being predatory.

Words; 1.684K

A/N; Hi guys! I've been watching this show and i loved it so far and i want to take you guys on an adventure! Stay tuned for more. Let me know what you think. :) Smut in the future chapters ;)

TAG LIST IS OPEN!

Summary; Ever since childhood you had to survive, you were born before the disease so you kinda remembered what was it like, to have a hot shower, clean food etc. You didn’t know what happened to your parents because they were on a vacation and left you with your grandma who passed away during the chaos. You were 10 when it happened, a child who had to be a woman over night. What happens when you are a brink from killing yourself and find purpose again?

Chapter One- Introduction

‘’Hi sweet cheeks.’’ Y/N had to raise her head to meet the man who addressed her in a vulgar way, it was a soldier, she remembered him. Every week he would bring his uniform for a fixing up, she was a seamstress, that was her job in today’s new community. Her salary was few pieces of papers and it wasn’t enough, and this soldier knew that. She just smiled as usual, took the FEDRA uniform, it was obvious that he ripped that space on his own just to see her, ‘’Will be ready tomorrow.’’ FEDRA soldiers’ things had to be taken care of quickly, it was an unwritten law. ‘’Are you free after work?’’ he asked as if he had a chance, ‘’No, maybe next time.’’ She didn’t want to piss anyone off so she always refused with politeness. She knew what happens to the girls who make a huge scene, ‘’Hey! We’re waiting here.’’ The man behind the soldier said aggressively, the soldier turned to the man, ‘’You know I could arrest you for that right?’’ it was a rhetorical question, the man behind the soldier didn’t say anything more and the soldier left few papers on the table for her as money and left.

The man approached, she recognized him immediately. Him and few others were doing the hardest task here, cremation of the infected people. One could smell the smoke and burnt flesh every single day, from morning to night. Maybe that was one of the reasons why she was nauseated every time she woke up, the man was middle aged, he had a worn out green button up shirt, blue jeans that looked older than her, he had a scarf on his neck it looked dusty and as soon as she realized it was the ashes of people he didn’t say anything and his big hand went to his neck to remove it and put it in his pocket, they were having a nonverbal conversation, she smiled, saddest smile he had ever seen in his entire life. Joel came to this seamstress often because he had old clothes –as did everyone- and he needed to keep them intact not because she had pretty eyes and a gentle manner. It was a rare thing in these days to talk to someone who is gentle and kind, a thing he missed the most…

He placed his old jeans, they were two. Joel noticed her eyes leaving his warm brown ones and to the soldier who was standing at the door of the building, ‘’Does he bother you?’’ Joel found himself utter the question in his mind out loud. It was too late now, ‘’Why do you ask?’’ she asked, because this world was cruel and these days if someone were to offer help they also expected a favor in return, with men, that favor usually was a private event and she didn’t want that, even though he was attractive…

Y/N took the jeans and looked at the places she had to fix, he shrugged his shoulders, ‘’Just wanted to help.’’

‘’I can hold my own.’’ She placed the jeans carefully at the back, his wandering eyes travelled on her body when she stood up, she had a long dress which covered her body but it was an old dress and it was obvious that she grew into it. He didn’t say anything else just left, didn’t forget to look at the name tag of that soldier.

She was  a hardworking woman and in order to earn her place in this new society she had to work hard. Under the dim yellow light she kept fixing clothes for hours, till her Y/E/C eyes got blurry and weary, till her hands started to shake. It was late night when she lifted her gaze from that middle aged man’s jeans that she was holding, he seemed nice but she wasn’t sure, this world thought her to be cautious. She finished her job and rubbed her eyes, she could hear the speakers saying something about curfew, she had to be quick to go to her home so she placed the clothes back to the dusty shelves, if she had time she was planning to clean the place but she had to be quick right now. She picked up her backpack and left the shop, her hands were shaking when she was locking up the place because she heard nasty things about what happens when FEDRA soldiers take citizens during curfew.

She threw the keys into her backpack and decided to use the back road to go to her home. Her sneakers were comfortable enough to climb the half broken wall, there was no one, and it was dark. The only source of light was the full moon, she knew it was full moon in Leo, things were intense lately because of it. Her mother and grandmother were into astrology and guided her when she was a child and after the world turned into a huge chaos she was managed to find books about astrology, no one needed books other than wiping their asses but she had a deep thirst for knowledge. She placed her feet to climb the wall when she heard two people talking. She stopped in her movements and focused, two men were talking about something… car battery, and drugs… she wasn’t suppose to be here.

She slowly backed away from the wall and turned, too bad her keys in her backpack made sound, ‘’Wait, someone is here.’’ One of the men said and she ran immediately.

The streets were surrounded by the soldiers, she had to run in the shadows, thankfully she got back to her place before someone saw her. She had to lay on the bed which was placed on the wooden floor to calm her racing heart. Everyday was a struggle, lately she got really bored of things, like she was fed up with the treatment she got, her life and the world’s situation. That ran sparked something in her, a curiosity which died during the night. She thought about suicide many times and those thoughts were occurring a lot more than she wanted. How would she do it? She didn’t have access to medicine so going peacefully wasn’t an option, she thought about jumping from her window, she had no gun so shooting herself also wasn’t an option but she had a lot of knives, and those knives were looking at you from the dusty kitchen counter… she had to clean her place soon. She was proud to say that her flat was the cleanest because she liked keeping things organized and shiny, when her neighbors see her cleaning her floors on her knees they silently judge her but she thinks that even if the world has come to an end there must be some rules to keep a civilized society. Her rules were simple;

Number one, be clean and organized. Always know where things are.

Number two, do not engage in any heated arguments. –she saw a man kill his friend because of disagreement.-

Number three, keep it low, do not attract attention.

Number three was hard to keep because she was a beautiful woman, she got attention from everywhere.

It was almost 3 at night and she had to be awake at 6 so she took off her clothes and slept.

Joel Miller had to be careful walking home, even though the deal he made with that soldier kept him some what safe he couldn’t rely on anyone. He reached his house safe and sound, closed the door silently and poured himself a drink. It was hard for him to sleep so he stood in front of his window and looked at the street, the grass was cracking the roads, the street lamps weren’t working for few days and it gave an almost literary view. His weary brown eyes went to across the street where she stayed. The first time he saw her was when she first transferred here, she was from a QZ where collapsed and there were few survivors, he remembered the day, the doors opened for them, Joel was on a lunch break, it was a sunny day. FEDRA checked them to see if they were infected or not. She was so silent, almost not wanting to attract any attention but it was impossible, he heard two soldiers suggesting disgusting things about her. He rolled his eyes in anger, her hands were in front of her, entwined, head low, eyes fixed on the sand ground. After that first day he kept seeing her, walking back home or leaving, helping elderly, he saw her carrying water to their houses. Whenever Joel heard her soft voice he couldn’t believe it, she was so calm and gentle while speaking that it seemed impossible to him, he even paid attention to caught her say something in anger or even curse but she didn’t she either kept the conversation short with those pervert soldiers or just listen to the person who was talking to her.

Sometimes he would see her getting food from cafeteria, he would unconsciously stand close to her and then realize what he was doing and back off, he didn’t know if she noticed or not but he never liked those men talking to her predatory, all these years he had to suppress his emotions down to survive but whenever he saw her there was this pressure on his chest, as if something is pushing his ribs, he didn’t want to dwell on it and focused on his work, the most devastating and saddest job in the new world. He had nightmares every night, nightmares had variety of scenarios but the theme was the same, death. He already lost his precious daughter and now his brother wasn’t returning his calls, he was hoping for the best but the boney grasp of death was on his thick neck, chocking his words.

He had to get out of here and find his brother before it’s too late but the thought of leaving her behind ate him up at night.

Thank you for reading. :)

#last of us #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fan #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x y/n #hbo the last of us #bella ramsey #pedro pascal #ellie x joel #gay fanfiction #fanfiction prompt #fanfic #smut fanfiction #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x oc #pedro pascal x you

[the-tharns-speak]

On the topic of ruins and loot, what was/is the standard policy regarding artifacts looted/acquired (either while adventuring or wartime), and what are some of the more noteworthy artifacts you and the other Companions have come across (aside from the Amulet of Kings, of course)? (And on that note, may I be so bold as to inquire what sort of family artifacts the Tharn family has/had?)

It's seen as a common courtesy to leave behind some dort of information about the relic you've taken: What it was, how you found it, vague outline of your plans with it, where to find you in case the person who came here next needs to contact you about it. Write in standard Cyrodillic, or if you have a brush and the time and will, in Daedric alphabet if you feel it is appropriate.

If the artifact is obviously cursed, it's nice to leave behind some blood splatters as a warning. It does not have to be your blood. If you are raiding into a Dwemer ruin, flip the switches and turn the valves back the way they were on your way out. You don't want that hot steam that was spewing into the corridor to build up somewhere deeper beneath in a boiler and blow the place up.

When it comes to handling the looted found relics, it's mostly case-by-case custom approach. I like to wash what I've found first, cold water, a bit of distilled alcohol to disinfect it. Not advisable for some crystals and most fine Dwemer machinery, though. Cleaning is a good step, though, it let's you see the details beneath the grime, and significantly lowers your chance of contracting some nasty disease when you cut yourself on it.

(Not so fun story, shortly I was estabilished as the Imperial Battlemage, the Guardians of the Vault brought to me a cursed crescent, the foul hex on it had already killed three of them in a a rather ugly and painful manner. After we cleansed it of rust, I gave the remaining five a very long talk about tetanus prevention and since then the only other curse that befell the Battlespire was from a werebat. The curse was rabies.)

As a rule of thumb, do not eat your artifact. Don't put it in your mouth either. If it is a drinking vessel, don't drink from it. If it is a cooking utensil or a piece fo silverware, contact a Daedric expert (an actual expert, not just self-proclaimed); almost all of us know the Haskill This Is An Emergecy message spell.

As for the artifacts and relics out family has obtained over the course of the years vast majority of them has been... Well, I suppose the polite term would be "repossessed". Not that long after the Soulburst I was netly shooed off the main stage and my less sensible relatives and progeny managed to missplace a lot of the family's posession.

Still, what remains and is of note

A set of daedric crescents. Honestly, I am still dumbstruck as to why Mannimarco let me keep them on my person during my stay in the Castle of the Worm. The staff is unparalleled. I've managed to fit it with a new handle, since the last one just shattered in my face a couple of years ago, and by the Eight, how did I manage to go without it for so long?

The Spoon of Repulsion. From Sheogorath's domain, I don't know if he already had it or if I am that special, but it was entrusted to my care to propel bad anons out of this blog's very inbox at high velocity. Not much goot as an actuall spoon, since it throws your meal across the room and through the wall.

A couple of Azura's crystals. Some of them are full, and I forgot with hwom and I am not eager to find out.

A blood-drinking longsword that melts with the wielder's flash if used for long enough. Probably the artifact that's been in our posession for the longest... and one that's seen the least use.

Mallion-Canae, a ring made of petrified flame. Not sure what it's good for besides as a pocket warmer.

Three sets of armor made of dragon bone. I am not sure if it counts as an artifact, since they are extremely new. Apparently the Rimmen Armory is running out of space, and since I caused it in the first place...

Two Tablets of Silk, the devices that allow access to the internet.

The Fang of Barbas, which to my knowledge does not actually come from Barbas, and while held it does not allow you to speak a lie. Less helpful than it sounds. Banned from the courts of Cyrodill.

A vial of what's supposed to be Namira's blood, although it has the physical properties of oil rather than blood. A viscous substance with no known antivenom. So toxic that looking at it with unshielded eyes kills.

#the mystery answered #daedric artifacts #wolfsilver

[vinnoa-articles]

Roaring Waves

[Image by Eiichiro Oda]

Rating: Anyone

Word count: 1,799

Type: Angst

Characters: reader (anyone), Portgas D. Ace

Trigger warnings/content: Spoilers! Drowning, death, friendship, lost, swearing

He was free, or at least his soul seemed free as he rode the waves on his board. Black locks flowing behind him. His sun kissed skin glistening as the sun sets on his whitebeard tattoo on his back. It was breathtaking, just seeing him laughing as he was dancing on the sea’s foam. He was your light, inspired by his huge grin, that was brighter than the sun itself. You were lost in thought when he came back around. Snapping his fingers in front of your eyes. His starry freckles peppered his face, pairing with his smile. It was contagious, his smile, his laugh, and his actions.

“Oi, OI” you feel something hot right near your lashes that makes you jump back, nearly falling off the edge into the water. You yelp and touch your lashes to make sure none of them got burnt off, giving that sunny boy a scowl to remember.

“Ace boy, you can’t do that shit! You know I can’t swim!” You hissed at him. The fireboy laughed as he sat right next to you on the edge of the bay, seeing your reaction was always his favorite part about his adventure at this moment. Tilting his hat back so you could clearly see his skin glowing. You weren’t sure if it was the water, the sun or just his devil fruit powers that was doing it, but something was captivating about it. It made you want to be friends with him, and he made an impact on the village you were from. He got rid of the marines, and even seemed to speak to a “Garp” or “Raleigh” or some old boomer, but he must have power in high places. No matter though, it should be okay to relax a little.

“Oh you CAN swim, you just prefer not to in case the sea creatures come around and devour you,” he laughed while leaning on the back of his palms. You grumbled a bit and glared at him a little. 

“Okay you falling into the sea and for me to save your ass was not part of the agenda,” you jabbed at his head, making his hat cover his eyes. You heard a slight growl from him as he returned the jab to your cheek.

“Oh yeah? Well, I didn’t have to kick the sea creature’s ass for you while you were skipping rocks y/n!” As you two start to exchange some finger jabs at each other, you both finally stare at each other and laugh. It was stupid, but you were right, without each other someone would have gotten severely hurt, even dead. “Hey now, I am grateful you picked me up from the sea”. You gave a slight nod to reciprocate the same feeling. The subtle breeze was amazing against your face, and tickling your ears as if it was whispering secrets. 

“I mean Ace, you sure you don’t want to wait here and just take a load off? I know Whitebeard might be waiting for you. But-” you looked at the red sun, almost sinking into the depths of the sea, as if it was signaling Ace’s departure soon.

“You know, I may be strong, but I need to find the One Piece before my brothers do y/n”, huffing it out as he stood up on the edge. His hands in his pockets, fishing out a piece of paper that was wiggling in the air.

“You mean Sabo and Luffy? I mean, they may come here. You never know!” You glance up at his toned figure, how does he stay so fit. Sometimes you wonder if his powers help him burn the calories, but then again, he is a pirate as well and he has fought big names. Crazy how he manages to do it, and hearing the lore of his brothers doing the same makes your mind wonder what if I had devil-fruit powers. Maybe you could have helped your village from the marines instead of Ace. However, the village never knew he was a pirate. They detested pirates as for years and years, many have come to see a pone? A big square rock, but I have no idea if it even rests here. I have seen it in a cave, but it's nothing interesting. Even Ace saw it and said not to worry about it, as long as I don’t speak a word about it to anyone. That I could trust his brother with this rock.

“True, but the seas call to me. Only you can get over your fear of the sea you know. You can’t join my crew, but if you get off this island, I feel like you could help people really well”. This is where you frowned. You truly didn’t feel like it, especially since all you had to do was ask Ace and he solved it within a day or two; by himself. You felt something land on your head, and it was Ace’s hat, you could still smell something burnt, but it was a smell for you to remember. He could tell you were not very convinced by his actions at all. “I guess I can give this to you,” he stated as he handed you something small. It was a piece of paper that looked the exact same as the one he was holding earlier. Perplexed, you looked at him dumbfounded. You raised your eyebrow, like really? “Oh I forgot, this is my vivre card. Its to show you where I am going, and when I get hurt”. Grasping the chit between your fingers, you observed it, moving in the opposite direction of the wind. It was true, it was following the direction of Ace’s movements.

“So does that mean you will leave soon?” You jump up, hoping he wouldn’t be leaving for a while. He shook his head in dismay, as if he did enjoy his time here, yet there were many islands and places that were just as good, if not similar to your village.

“Well, just know I will be back,” he stretched his arms up above his shoulders, then rolled his neck to make sure he was stretched around. 

“Promise me? At least come back here before your brother gets here, you understand?” Trying to lock eyes with him to make sure he was a man of his word. He just nodded and chuckled.

“Yeah yeah, I will-” Ace turned his head to see your pinky extended out to him, making sure he would pinky-swear to come back. You could see some hesitation, but he grasped your pinky with his. It felt hot, as if your pinky would get soldered onto his. “Yes, I will come back before Luffy and Sabo.” You sighed a sense of relief. As you both release, you see him spring off the bay and onto his board. You felt a little sad, but knowing he was a man of his word, you knew he would come back. Yet why did you have a sense of dread building up in your heart, restlessness that couldn’t be settled. “Oi, you better not lose that card!” 

“Could never fire boy!” You laughed while waving at him. “Bye Ace! Good luck!”

“Tell the Marines I am nearby at Banaro if they try to do something again!”

At least, that is what you remember from what happened days ago. You had your little sailboat out at sea, traveling because you heard that Ace was not at Banaro; the island next door. You heard about a big flame and black dust popping up. Yet there wasn’t any word about what happened. It was so hush-hush. Even newspapers refused to waste their paper on your little hometown because the population was so sparse. So, you decided to go out to sea. The vivre card leading which way Ace could have gone. It was slightly burnt, and that made you beyond worried. You weren’t going to let a new friend of yours get hurt when he was just fine not that long ago. Sitting on your boat, you could tell that the seas were restless from all the marine boats that would pass by. Afterall, you had no flag to show if you were a pirate, so many left you alone. You swam for fish here and there, but no deeper than that to avoid the truth of the depths of the seas. Then there was sound, a loud sound. Seeing it from a distance, you could see the sky was dark. There was yelling, screaming, and sounds of agony. You try to see what could be up ahead, and you see the markings. Impel Down; the infamous underwater prison where no criminal leaves alive. There was no way you wanted to get near that place, but the waves carried you closer and closer to the prison. The vivre card was moving a lot in the direction of the prison.

“No…no way”, you mutter. There was no way Ace was fighting with the marines here, right? Right? You see a huge ray of light burst over the walls. What could it have been? You row as fast as you can, closer and closer to the underwater dungeon. You felt your boat about to touch the base when-

“ACE” You heard a scream, and you didn’t recognize the voice. It felt frantic, even mortified. Who could it have been? You look at your vivre card, only for it to disintegrate in the palm of your hand. It's disappearing, no, it can’t be. Why is it-

You rush to get out of the boat, only to miss a beat and slip. Seeing a big gray rock coming straight to your face as you fall face first. What was this hot, yet cold feeling? It was as if Ace was hugging you, letting you know he would be back. Would he be? Your body feels so numb right now. You have to try and swim like he said, so he could keep his promise of seeing you needed to swim, but you couldn’t. When did the water look so red and pretty? Similar to when the sun was sinking the day Ace left. Well, maybe you can sleep a little. You must have landed on the dock for sure. It hurts to breathe, but you know you will wake up and return home. Telling them how you went to the underwater prison and even touched the dock. They warned you time and time again, the seas were rough that it was dangerous. 

You were living proof, right? My body feels heavy. Well, maybe later I will tell Ace how crazy it was for his vivre card to go up into flames. Like we did, we pinky-swore, near the roaring waves.

#portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #angst #One piece angst #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfics #one piece fanfictions #ace #One piece #Portgas ace #portgas ace angst #Fanfiction #Ace fanfiction #Ace fanfic #ace fanfics #ace fanfictions #ace one piece #one piece ace

[getsojaded]

downtown lovers i — it won’t always be like this || calum hood

a/n: ok so. i originally wrote this out of my ass while listening to inhaler (shout-out inhalersos fans) and as i kept writing i decided to make this like an open series where i just write abt little downtown adventures and honestly i don’t know how this is gonna play out LMFAO cause it’s like not exactly a series but at the same time it kind of is??? like those stand alone books that you don’t have to read in order to understand but you still can for the experience???? dude idk what im saying anymore just roll w it i hope u guys like it

—

the cool, evening breeze of downtown seattle brushed against melanie's legs as she stood in the queue of the music venue alongside many others, waiting until the doors opened for the band that would be performing that night, inhaler.

she switched between scrolling through different apps on her phone and eavesdropping on various conversations made by people surrounding her, hearing "i'm so excited to see josh jenkinson!" one too many times, trying to find ways to make the time pass a little bit faster.

this was her first concert that she'd be attending alone, and needless to say, the social anxiety was catching up to her. she'd been so used to having at least one friend accompany her to the hundreds of concerts she'd gone to, and she was under the impression that she wouldn't be attending this one alone...

until her friend cancelled last minute on her. which, was bummed her out an extreme amount.

however, the show was the next day and she absolutely did not want to scramble around on twitter and instagram, trying to find people who would want to buy her ticket last minute. so here she was, standing alone in a crowd of grouped-together people. and god, was she feeling anxious.

lost in her own intrusive thoughts, she even failed to realize that the man lining up behind here in the queue was alone as well.

she turned to her side, leaning her back against the brick wall of the venue and closing her eyes, taking a deep sigh as an attempt to calm herself down.

"hey, you okay?" a deep, accent-laced voice filled her ears. her eyes opened and she looked to her left side, making eye contact with a tall, tan skinned man. her eyes quickly scanned him, immediately noticing how fucking attractive he was. dark, curly hair that was on the verge of forming a mullet, a black supreme tee-shirt that exposed his multiple tattoos on his arms and accentuated his muscles, straight black leg dress pants and black docs. with a leather jacket in one hand, his phone and an unlit cigarette in the other.

god, he was hot. really fucking hot.

"oh yeah, i'm alright. just getting tired, 's all," she responds, trying to sound as collected as possible. "you're lookin' a little stressed there, love." he responds, assuming that the rosy shade appearing on her cheeks was from the cold air and not the use of his pet name, to which that assumption was flat out wrong.

"i'm okay. was just a bad choice of footwear for a concert. did it to myself," she fibs, letting out a light laugh as he takes notice of her black boots, then analyzing the rest of her outfit. a basic, black silk dress that was underneath an oversized leather jacket. "at least you look beautiful," he tells her. "you here alone?"

"thank you," she sheepishly smiles up at him. "yeah, i'm here alone, my first one, too."

"ahh, that's why you're lookin' so shaken up." he replies, letting out a light laugh. "don't worry, going to these by yourself are a piece of cake. definitely needs some getting used to, but afterwards it feels like nothin'." he reassures her, reaching in his jacket pocket for a lighter. "what's your name?"

"my name is melanie, and yours?"

"beautiful name for a beautiful girl. i'm calum."

"pretty name for a pretty boy. by the way, are you always this flirty?" she asks him, resulting in light chuckles from the both of them. "no, not always. only when pretty girls are lined up alone in front of me for inhaler." he says, melanie rolling her eyes and smiling in response.

"well, calum, i'm not lining up alone anymore. i'm lining up with you, now." she states, a big grin appearing on calum's face afterwards. "glad to be waiting with you."

they're standing in line for a little over 45 minutes, the conversation flowing exceptionally easily as they got to know each other. melanie's found out that he had also been in a band for a brief amount of time when he was younger, ultimately deciding to part ways but staying best friends with his bandmates. calum found out that melanie had just moved to the city as a result of a new job opportunity, originally living on the east coast just a few months before. with all the free time on calum's hands, he decided to spend some time in the city, having always admired how beautiful it is, yet never having enough time to adventure around it while he was around on tour.

"you're gonna have to play me some songs of yours, wanna compare you to bobby now," she jokes around at that last bit, referring to inhaler's bassist, robert keating, after finding out that calum was the bassist in his band as well. "i'd rock his shit, just saying." he responds, melanie laughing at his sudden defensiveness.

more giggles and continuing of conversations let the time pass by so much quicker than melanie had felt that they did before, and the next thing you know, the pair were standing beside each other while the general admission crowd were waiting for the anticipated band to come out.

despite choosing comfort and deciding not to camp out for long hours outside of the venue for the show, they had still made it to the second row on bobby's side of the stage. "looks like i'll be comparing you two for the entirety of the show," melanie giggles, calum nudging her slightly in response to her joke, "shut up. i'm showing you our songs the minute we get out of this place."

next thing you know, the lights dim and the four band members appear on stage, instruments, opening the show with it won't always be like this. the crowd roars and cheers, singing along to the band in front of them, hands waving around and feet jumping in all sorts of directions.

though melanie has some extra height with her uncomfortable leather boots on, her petite hight is on her bad side today, coming to the realization that she can't see very much due to the tall people standing in front of her.

halfway during the second song, calum takes notice of the way she's attempting to crane her neck up, still having a smile on her face as she enjoys the show. he breaks the touch barrier between them, softly grabbing her by the waist. melanie jumps slightly at the initial touch, but then loosens up at the realization of calum gesturing her to stand in front of him so that she could see better. it would benefit her anyways, and since cal was at least a foot taller than her, it wouldn't affect him that much – at all, really.

calum’s hands don’t leave melanie’s sides for the entirety of the concert. and as they’re exiting the venue and walking down the crowded streets at midnight, his arm is still wrapped around her as they stroll together.

“you know, you made this concert a lot more enjoyable,” she says softly, smiling up at the tall man beside her. “glad to hear. the exact same goes for you as well.” calum responds. “are you doing anything now?”

“if i would, i still wouldn’t be walking with you to no destination in particular,” she giggles, turning to him and stopping them from walking. “why? what did you have in mind?”

“i’m not entirely sure if this is too forward considering we met maybe 3 hours ago,” he starts, grinning. “but i’d love to get to know you better. preferably not in a concert queue. if you were willing to, would you wanna grab a drink or two with me?”

“hmmm, i’m gonna have to think about it,” melanie puts her hand on her chin, walking away from a calum with his jaw to the ground, laughing as he chases after her.

once he’s within reach of her shoulders, he turns her around, big smiles planted on both their faces.

“yes calum. i’d love to spend more time with you.”

#5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #ashton irwin #ashton irwin imagine #calum hood #calum hood imagine #luke hemmings #michael clifford #michael clifford imagine #5sos #calum hood angst #calum hood fluff #calum hood smut

[spicysix]

either eddie x reader or eddie x steve for #10?

Person A helping person B patch up their favorite shirt/sweater/jacket.

a/n: i chose to write about Steddie! and ughh okay i'm lowkey proud of this one, it turned out so cute 😭 thank you for requesting, babe! no warnings, all fluff ♡

word count: 1.3k

↳ requests are open!

patchin' up

“No, no, no no…” Eddie heard Steve’s muffled whines as he entered the trailer. 

After leaving his keys on the kitchen counter, Eddie followed the sound and found Steve kneeling on the floor in front of the drying machine, cradling a piece of jeans cloth in his hands.

“What’s going on, Stevie?” he asked, and his boyfriend turned his attention to him instantly, his face contorted in a sad grimace that made Eddie’s heart tighten up.

“My jacket got caught up on a button or a zipper or something, and now there’s a tear.” His voice was trembling, and he fumbled with the jacket to show Eddie the tear near the front left pocket.

“You’re really upset, huh baby?” Eddie was careful to not sound like he was teasing, he actually found it adorable how much Steve cared about every little thing.

“It’s my favorite one Eds,” he answered, and Eddie walked up to him and kneeled by his side, taking his time to better assess the tear.

He knew what jacket it was, the one he gave Steve the morning after their first night together at Eddie’s trailer, months ago. It was a windy October day, and Eddie didn’t want Steve to leave and get cold - didn’t matter if the Bimmer had heating, and Steve’s house had it too. He was actually just trying to find excuses to see Steve in his clothes again, the memory of him, hairy torso bare if not for Eddie’s jeans battle vest in the Upside Down still got him blushing and feeling hot all over, even almost a full year later. The vest got lost somewhere at some point in their Saving The World Adventure, unfortunately. When Steve tried to give the jacket back a few days later, Eddie refused to take it and just let Steve have it.

“Didn’t know it was your favorite,” Eddie said, looking up to find Steve’s eyes on him.

“Of course it is, you gifted it to me,” Steve explained, and Eddie couldn’t help the smile spreading on his lips. “But now it’s ruined,” Steve murmured again, that sad little quiver in his voice breaking Eddie’s heart.

“Oh no, baby, no! Don’t worry, we can fix it,” he hugged Steve’s shoulders, and the hopeful gaze he got in response would be enough to send him soaring if that was physically possible. “Remember the patches on the vest? I still have some here, you can choose and we’ll sew it on the jacket,” he explained and Steve beamed.

“Really?” Eddie just nodded in response. “Hell yeah, let’s do it!”

Steve got up excitedly and pulled Eddie with him. They both stumbled and laughed, heading to Eddie’s room. Steve’s clothes on the bed, Steve’s shoes by the door, Steve’s smell in the air. Steve started spending more and more time at the trailer ever since that first night, his own house too big and quiet and empty and cold, but Eddie was warm, and Wayne was welcoming, and the trailer was much more of a home than the Harrington’s mansion ever was.

Eddie shuffled around the mess of his bedroom until he found the little plastic bag that had all his patches. He scattered them on the bed for him and Steve to look through. Most of them were of metal bands Eddie liked, but there were a few others as well, some funny ones, some weird ones. But Steve was Steve, a fucking ray of sunshine hidden under all the bitchiness, so he chose a cute one.

Well, as cute as something in Eddie Munson’s possession could be.

It was a bat, just the two big yellow eyes on his face, all ears and wings spread open.

Eddie wasn’t as fond of bats as he used to be before the Events Of March, but even he couldn’t deny that this one wasn’t as bad. And Steve was really excited about it, for some reason.

So Eddie picked the jacket, the chosen patch, and his sewing equipment and sat on the floor, Steve beside him and paying full attention as Eddie explained how to do it, the best sewing techniques and tricks. Eddie didn’t see it, but Steve’s eyes gleamed as he watched the man he was in love with explaining something with so much passion and patience, as Eddie’s calloused fingers worked on something so small with so much delicacy.

“There he is! All set, baby,” Eddie exclaimed as he raised his hands and showed off the jacket, tear successfully hidden behind the little bat patch. He had also sewed the tear from the inside and placed a plain piece of cloth to prevent it from stretching wider.

Steve caught the jacket and got up from the floor, fitting his arms through the sleeves and, once wearing it, assessing Eddie’s work in the mirror, a sweet smile on his lips that never ceased to make Eddie’s heart beat faster.

“It’s perfect, Eds. Thank you so much.” Steve went back to where Eddie was still on the floor, offered his hand and Eddie didn’t hesitate to grasp it.

“It was nothing, baby. We could find other patches you like and customize it more, if you want to? Or we could thrift a different jacket just so you can go nuts,” he offered, and Steve nodded.

“I’d love that! Maybe I’ll sew a Make It Big picture on the back as you did with that Dio album on your vest,” his smirk made it clear that he was teasing, but Eddie gasped loudly in offense anyway.

“I refuse to help you sew Wham’s faces onto a piece of cloth, my liege, you’ll have to do that by yourself. It would just be sacrilegious to the jacket, to the art of sewing and patching, and to music as a whole,” he protested and Steve laughed loudly at his antics. Eddie got up from the floor, finally, Steve’s hand still on his helping him. “Why’d you choose this one, though?” He poked at the bat.

“It reminded me of what we both survived, of the scars we share. Reminds me of us,” he answered, voice low, hazel eyes staring deep into Eddie’s, and he swooned.

“Jesus, Stevie, I love the fact that this is your favorite because I gave it to you, and I love the fact that you patched something that reminds you of us onto it, and you look very fucking hot in it,” he started rambling, Steve’s lips quirking up at Eddie’s words. “But imma need you to take it off now after that,” he finished, already pulling at the jacket’s sleeves, and Steve laughed once again.

“Gonna carry you over my pocket all the time now,” he whispered against Eddie’s lips, his hands already fumbling with Eddie’s pants.

“Right over your heart, baby?” Eddie’s words were automatic out of his mouth, his brain already fuzzing and he hoped, prayed, his reactions to Steve would never change.

He wanted to feel like this - hook, line and sinker in love with his Sunshine boy for as long as the Universe would let him, for as long as Steve would have him, for as long as the Sun itself would shine.

“Right inside it, too,” Steve answered, jacket already on the floor and Eddie’s hands already wandering through the warm skin of his torso, up, up, up. “Love you, love you, love you Eds.”

“Love you so much, Stevie,” he replied, falling over Steve on the mattress, the rest of his patches tumbling to the floor.

But the mess they were making didn’t matter now because Steve’s lips were all over his neck, Steve’s nails were scratching his back, Steve’s heart was in his hands, and Eddie’s heart was all Steve’s.

-----

the patch was inspired by this one (only bigger) and you can buy it here 🥰

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fluff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things ficlet #stranger things fluff #lui writes

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Kid Philip and Kid Caleb go inside a hot topic?

Rot Topic

"Stay close, Philip," Caleb would instruct his "brother" as "they" walked along the sidewalk in present day Gravesfield.

The small blonde still didn't know how he and his little brother ended up there or why everything appeared so strange, but during their walk, they encountered a piece of green currency that had a funny looking man on the front and a '100' labeled on each of its corners lying idly on the ground.

Picking the money up, Caleb decided to slip it into his back trouser pocket.

It may come in handy later.

"We have to find a way back home. Mother and Father are likely feeling a great deal of worry due to our absence."

Caleb glanced down after saying that, but Philip was not there.

Upon stopping, the blonde's eyes widened and he frantically turned his head side to side in the hope of spotting his brother nearby.

Fortunately, when he turned around, he found Philip standing in the middle of the pavement, staring at something with starry eyes, his mouth agape.

Caleb exhaled a sigh of relief and went up to him.

"What are you looking at, Pip?"

The elder asked him, to which Pip directs his pointer finger at said thing, stars still present in his eyes.

"Loook..." The younger responds with astonishment.

As Caleb looks ahead, he sees a large white building with people wearing costumes entering it.

"Gravesfield Shopping Mall?" Caleb read the sign on the building to himself as he looked at Philip. "What's a... shopping mall?"

"I don't know!" Philip beamed excitedly before running towards the large building. "But I want to find out!"

"Philip, wait!" Caleb called out, running behind his brother.

...

Upon entering, the boys were captivated by the new setting they were now in.

The mall's interior was huge.

No, MASSIVE.

There were numerous shops and stores in every direction.

Crowds of people wearing costumes were bustling above and below the floors while spooky music was blaring over the speakers.

It was the peak of the Halloween season.

The boys' 1600's outfits made them blend in perfectly.

"Wow, I've never seen a place like this before. Where should we go first, Pip?"

"Ooo, ooo, Caleb, Caleb! I want to go up there!" Pip pointed upwards to the second floor.

Caleb gazed up. "I would like that too, but how can we get up there?"

How did those people get up there?

"Oh, Caleb," Philip grinned, tugging at his brother's shirt while directing his finger at a set of stairs that appeared to be moving by themselves.

"Look!" Caleb did exactly that.

Two mall visitors stepped on the electrical staircase and were immediately transported to the second floor.

The small blonde smiled. "Good eye, Pip!"

He gave his little brother a small pat on the head as they proceeded to the stairs.

...

"We're here! Where should we go next?" Caleb asked Philip.

"Hmm..." Blue eyes began to examine the various stores in the vicinity.

The one close by caught Philip's attention the most.

"How about that one?" The store Philip was pointing to was colored black and had the words "ROT TOPIC" displayed in red neon letters.

Philip smiled innocently at his brother. "I want to go there!"

"But Caleb!" Philip protested with a whine, "I want to go there! It looks like a lot of fun!"

The store in question caught Caleb's eye and caused him to appear hesitant. "I don't know, Pip, that store looks..." He gulps.

"Spooky." Caleb shivers.

"But Philip--"

"Pleaaase?" He pleaded.

"Philip--"

The younger presents his largest set of puppy dog eyes.

Caleb sighs, giving in. "Okay, fine. But if things gets too spooky, we're leaving. "

"Yay, adventure!" Philip giddily skips in.

Caleb remains jittery about entering the store, staring at the frightening sign, but despite his fear, he takes a deep breath and follows Pip inside.

Being the oldest, he was required to remain courageous and guard Philip against any evil spirits that may attempt to attack them while they were in the store.

#(thanks anon ❤️ 🖤) #(this was funnn) #(glad i got it out today) #the owl house #owl house #toh #caleb wittebane #kid caleb #emperor belos #belos #philip wittebane #kid philip #belosfanstakeover #ask #asks #anon #anonymous #request #fanfic #fanfics #writing #my writing

[inked-out-trees]

wake up, wake up, little sparrow

(a coda to the fixed point theory, in which sparrow and cola finally get their closure)

I finally did it! it's been a long time coming (and by long time I mean I wanted to write this scene into the full fic, couldn't find a spot for it, and so pieces of this have been vibing at the back of my mind for like a year). pls enjoy :')

wordcount: 3373. title from the folksong of the same name by ella jenkins, secondary shoutout to the leyla mccalla version as well.

// mention of fic-typical death, reference to something that feels like incest but is not because they're not related - sandra just likes to call the cohort her siblings

October 2009.

The variation of front doors throughout time is surprisingly thin. At least, the look of them. Approximately person-sized, with a bit extra to account for comfort and human differences, a perfect delineation that says: you can enter this closed place through this area that is sometimes not closed. And occasionally they are painted red.

This is something Sandra thinks about on and off as she stands on the doorstep.

This squat little house lives in a threadbare neighbourhood somewhere in the shitty outskirts of a desperately small prairie town, the kind with one school and two churches and porches laden with old bikes and dirty plastic chairs. She’s seen no one in the half hour she’s been here, psyching herself up first on the gravel road and then on the front step of the house. It has a red front door. The floorboards are weathered green-grey beneath her feet.

She checks the time and date again. Correct, all around. The address. Also correct. It’s all written down, anyway, on this sticky note in her pocket that’s been crumpled and flattened so much its edges are soft and the ink has run and faded. The loopy, unencumbered handwriting of a forty-two-year-old Dodger, whom Sandra had run into at a farmer’s market in 2633.

That had been weird, too. Not just because it was the first time she’d been called Sparrow in fifteen years. They’d traded pleasantries, caught each other up on the lost years of their lives like they were casual old friends rather than estranged sisters who grew up learning how to kill people. It was awkward and then they fell into it, tripping suddenly into this metaphorical hole of easy reminiscence and falling, falling, falling.

Dodger hadn’t given her much of the cohort’s history, but she did give Sandra the currents: that she’d started writing her weird books, that Ghoul had found a ‘hot divorcée MILF’–Ghoul’s words–to settle down with, that Nicky was still gallivanting around picking up his odds and ends, to the consternation of the Bureau. Most crucially, at least to Sandra – that Cola was waiting.

The date’s passed, based on our chats, Dodger had said, something wistful playing at the edges of her lips. Cola still hasn’t told us what came of it.

How is he now? Sandra had asked.

And Dodger had shrugged, easily, like it wasn’t a concern that they’d scattered, leaving Cola in particular to whatever fate he cursed himself into. Like he wasn’t struggling to draw breath the last time Sandra had seen him, like things just – went on.

Which, maybe they did. She doesn’t know the details.

He messages us every once in a while so we know he’s still alive, Dodger had said.

Sandra wonders how necessary that was, at the start. If his state of being was that much of a question.

Dodger didn’t know what she’d be walking into, and so–even though it’s been a long time since she’s needed a debrief before jumping into things–her nerves slice sharp. The porch is so unassuming it feels, for a moment, that she’s on a regular adventure, or perhaps doorknocking or flyering or something else she lost shame about a long time ago. The door is the colour of fresh blood. Sandra’s not a ditherer – but this is Cola.

Cola, whose dream she picked up and ran with, never once looked back to see if she was trailing his intestines along with it.

The blinds at the front window are shut tight, but there’s a shift in one of them–a slit widening, and then shutting again, the brief space of an eyeball between them–and then the door lock clicks. Her throat hurts as she swallows.

Empty, cold space, this airlock of a front hallway, and then Cola says, “Sparrow.”

Sandra lifts her eyes. “Hi,” she says.

Cola’s older, here, same as the Dodger she met in the market several days ago and several hundred years to come. Or maybe he just looks it – reasonably, he shouldn’t be past forty yet, somewhere close in age to Sandra herself despite the jumps in time. But there are crevasses in his face that seem too deep to be real, a heaviness to the way he holds himself, steel-grey eyes she could drown in.

“You came,” Cola says.

Sandra thinks she might understand the way it feels to be a butterfly pinned into a shadow box. “I met Dodger,” she says. “She gave me the address.”

“I figured one of them would. If you found them.”

“I wouldn’t say I was looking for them,” says Sandra. “Not that she was looking for me, either, it was more of a coincidence, right-place-right-time sort of thing. Which, given the whole, you know. Time. I guess it could be construed as suspicious? But then again, even the smallest of probabilities must be true in some form, in some universe, again, given time. So maybe it was just that.” That’s a lot of words all at once. Sandra clamps her jaw shut.

Cola just gives her the smallest upturn of a smile. “I really want to get to know you,” he says finally, stepping aside to let her through the cramped entryway. “I’ll put the kettle on.”

He shuts the door and locks it, and as she’s pulling off her boots, Cola skirts past her, deliberately not touching her – a lack of touch that hurts nonetheless, because she knows in her bones that in a past life he would have given her a gentle knock on the shoulder, or even a hip-check, something easy and kind. There is so much between them, and it is nothing and everything, all at once.

She tucks her boots in the corner by the doorstop, toes nudging against a faded dirt stain along the baseboard. A little whiff of warm air brushes past her knuckles from the vent. Something click-clicks deep within the ducts. The house feels, incredulously, alive.

“I also have biscuits,” Cola says, from further inside. “They’re from the store. Probably stale. But I have them.”

Around the corner, the kitchen has the same wilted feel as the rest of the interior: beige wood cabinets and grey lino on the counters, the handle of the refrigerator yellowed with use, a pile of used dishes in the sink, all of it emanating a sort of stasis. The walls and fridge are bare of pictures. A single banana sits, browning, on the windowsill.

And Cola, half inside the pantry, holding a box of biscuits tentatively in one hand.

“Sounds perfect,” Sandra says, and she almost believes it. The water picks up in the kettle. She’s visiting a friend, that’s all; never mind that it’s not her current home time or place, never mind that this friend is her long-estranged brother.

Cola shifts another not-quite-smile her way, slides the biscuits across the island.

She’s not sure what’s meant to happen now. If the onus is on her to start whatever this is, or on Cola – he invited her here, sure, but she came. She slips her nails into the groove of the cardboard and rips open the biscuit box, and Cola pulls two mugs from his cupboards and drops unremarkable teabags into them, and neither of them speak.

They stand in relative silence until the kettle boils, and Cola hands her a mug, picking up his own and leading her back into the living room. She’d passed it earlier but made no note of it; the furniture is mismatched but comfortable, and–most memorably–a guitar is propped upright next to the tv, without a stand but surrounded by piles of books and sheet music. It’s so new it shakes her. So much has changed.

“So,” she says, and the word is so violently awkward it catapults her personality fully into the opposite direction – back into the ease and detachment of Sandra, the great and powerful, better-than-you actress who first debuted whenever she finally joined the drama club. Thirteen years ago and three years to come. “What made you choose two thousand and nine?”

Cola raises an eyebrow at her code switch but thankfully doesn’t push it. “Hadn’t been here yet,” he says, “and it seemed far enough away from all my other shit that it just... sounded okay.” He swipes a hand across his forehead, pulling trailing hair from his face. “And, I don’t know. I knew you were somewhere around here, too. Maybe I’d run into you. Long shot, but. You know.”

All at once Sandra deflates. So much for great and powerful. “Time loves its coincidences,” she agrees. “You look well.”

Cola’s answering snort is derisive. “I would love to see through whatever lenses you’ve got right on right now, Sparr.”

And, okay, yes, in truth Cola has a haggardness about him, deep under-eye circles and this energy fuzzing at the surface of his skin, like he’s been holding onto a coiled spring for so long even letting it go would no longer hold absolution. It’s been a long, long time, but somewhere in the core parts of Sandra’s memories she holds a picture of Cola full of life and glowing with it. This is – not that.

“You, however,” he continues, circling his mug in her direction. “Obviously whatever you did... worked well for you.”

“It did,” Sandra confirms. She doesn’t want to say too much, because, again – a dream she stole is a dream barely hers at all.

But Cola leans forward, with the least amount of guard she’s seen since she’s stepped foot in this house that breathes. “Tell me,” he demands, and she never could deny him, anyway, not when it counted.

She talks for a long time, and Cola never once stops looking interested. He rises a couple times: first to refill their tea, and then to start dinner, something small and frozen that Sandra doesn’t quite catch before it’s out of the box and into the oven. “Hope you’re okay without living in splendor for a bit,” he says, somewhat sardonically, and Sandra says, “I was in prison, I can handle it,” fully knowing she hasn’t gotten to that part yet in her story, excited to tell more. They sit on Cola’s kitchen counter and eat when it’s done – two plastic plates full of crudely sliced Shepard’s pie, heels knocking against the bottom set of kitchen cabinets.

Sandra finishes her abbreviated life story–as much as she’s telling, anyway–as they’re drying and returning Cola’s dishes to their spots. The grass flats stretching beyond the kitchen window sprout twisted, gnarled shadows, like scarecrows in the drying field. The sun is on the other side of the house, so low in the sky it’s almost disappeared. It’s been hours.

In the living room, Cola flicks on the lamp and dumps himself back into the chair. Sandra cradles her fourth cup of tea. “Your turn,” she says.

Cola shoves his face into both hands, stays like that for a while, and then moves them up, brushing back his hair as he goes. “It’s not as exciting.”

“I don’t care. It’s you. It’ll be exciting.”

This is the wrong thing to say, apparently, because all of the looseness Cola has begun to exhibit coils right back up, hard lines re-imprinting into the corners of his eyes. “Whatever you’re thinking, Sparr, I promise it’s not–that’s not even your fucking name, I shouldn’t be calling you that.”

“You can,” Sandra says. “You’re the only one who can.”

“Fuck,” Cola sighs, deflating much like a balloon. “Look, it’s not. I’m not.” He sits in silence for a while, clawing his fingers and then relaxing them on his knee, nails scraping against his jeans. “Dodger didn’t tell you anything, huh.”

“Not really.” and she hadn’t, not of their past; just of their present, or what they’d built into their own pocket of ‘present’, this shortened version of their past ten years or so. Sandra makes a small, nonsensical gesture at the house. “But you’re here. Instead of, you know.”

Cola stares at the floor, visibly steeling himself. “So you left,” he says. “We know that part. The Ring was not happy, as you can expect. They said they’d handle it. The rest of us kind of expected them to bring back your body as a warning.”

“Jesus,” Sandra says, before she can stop herself.

“But they grounded me anyway,” Cola continues. “Thought I’d helped you, or some shit. When they asked if I had I said no, but if she’d let me I would have, and I don’t know if that killed my future or not but it certainly didn’t help. Didn’t really care at that point, though. Since you, you know. Made it all possible, even when it wasn’t.”

Sandra remembers the crack in his voice that very first night, when he’d said I’m too chickenshit to do anything about it. Remembers how hard she’d hoped, afterwards, that he’d managed anyway.

Cola drains his tea. “Didn’t matter, anyway. The program got shut down five, seven years later. Yeah,” he adds, at Sandra’s raised eyebrow, “we were the first and the last ones, big fuckin’ whoop. Guess it wasn’t sustainable the way they thought it was, raising cycles of children to do their dirty work. Anyway, we were still classified as dangerous as hell, didn’t even exist legally and all that shit, so they couldn’t just let us wander. So we just, kind of... stayed at the compound. They kept everything running–everything except, y’know, the regular trips–and it was the most boring three years in my whole goddamn life. Hell, Mono and Prime started shagging somewhere in there, and it was–yeah, I know–until I figured, hey, we’ve been controlled enough, they don’t need any judgement from me. So. You know.”

He shrugs, like it’s the end of the story, dismissive in a way that makes Sandra want to lean in, unravel the stuck pieces and pull them out like thread.

“They let us out a couple years ago,” he says. “Personal escort to whenever and wherever we wanted to go, no time tech allowed beyond that. We collective-bargained for this stupid groupchat. I think they got the code from the future. But it measures sends and receives based on how long we’ve each been alive, so, like – I could text ‘em four hours after I get here and they’ll each get it four hours after they’ve landed in their final times. But that’s. That’s it, really.” He leans back in his chair, eyes still tight, face still shuttered. “And now I’m here, I guess. Living out the rest of my life in a fuckin’ farm town.”

Sandra wants to ask about the farm town decision, but the impression she’s getting of Cola–this ghost of a man living inside a house that feels, for all intents and purposes, larger than the person occupying it–is twigging something unpleasant in her gut. “All the things you wanted to do,” she ends up saying. “Concerts. Coworkers. Love.”

Cola laughs, a single, sharp bark that could shatter ice. “Fuck, Sparrow, that was always just going to be a dream. The program took too much away from me when they grounded me - hell, when they fucking adopted me. There’s not enough left in here to build whatever life I wanted.” He flops a hand around in a gesture at himself. “I’m glad you got your happy ending. Really, I’m fucking elated for you. But all you are is lucky. Most folks just go until they don’t anymore.”

Sandra notes, dimly, that whatever was rattling in the vents has now stopped; somewhere down the hall a clock seems to be repeating the tock without an accompanying tick, an unsettling undertone to the silence. She might be numb all over. Or maybe it just hurts, in some unexplainable way, this version of Cola she’s just met – the one she’s known all along. Bitter and carved from stone.

It’s fully nighttime now. It might just be the lamp casting odd shadows onto his face, but she’s not quite sure that’s it.

“Cola,” she says.

“I picked Ronan,” he says. “Not that anyone knows me by that. But the woman at the grocery store asked, once. Town this small, it’s hard to miss when new people show up.”

Sandra wets her lips and resets. “Ronan.”

And Cola looks her in the eyes. “Sandra.”

Good god, how did they get here? Her fingers itch for her watch; she wants to hurl them both back in time and fix whatever’s gone wrong here, fix it all – mold them both better childhoods, give them love rather than the fucked-up upbringing they got stuck with.

“You still have time,” she says, finally, sort of like she’s begging. Absolutely like she’s begging. “Find a major city. Pull out all the stops.”

“Jesus, always with the idealism.” Cola runs his hand through his hair, again, and tugs at it. “I’m a fucking coward, didn’t you hear the first time? This is what I have. I’m not stupid enough to let it get taken away from me, too.”

“But it doesn’t have to go.” Sandra’s stubborn, she can credit herself that. “You’re making Ronan up as you go. I know you are, I had to do the same with Sandra. He doesn’t have to hold onto the things Cola holds onto. He can do more. He can.”

Cola looks cynical, and for a flash of a second Sandra wants to haul him to his feet by the collar and throttle him. She doesn’t. She bites at the edge of her thumb and thinks for a while.

“Hey, we all knew this was going to be how it turned out,” Cola says, in a weird, gentle way, like he’s trying to reassure Sandra of his own miserable circumstances.

Sandra finds purchase on a piece of tough skin and yanks, tearing a strip that starts fine and turns tender the further it pulls. The loose thread of skin tickles. She flicks it back and forth with her pointer finger.

“Fine,” she declares. “You’re a coward. Cool. You know what you can still do?”

Cola raises an eyebrow as Sandra stands, rounding the coffee table and picking past a small pile of DVDs.

She thrusts a hand out, fingers open, as though offering him a boost up. “Take my hand.”

“Sparrow,” says Cola.

“The great news,” she says, “is that we’re all cowards. Every single one of us, about different things. We just find people who can do the things we can’t and let them drag us along, because we’re scared as hell but we do it anyway. Take my fucking hand, Cola.”

Cola spares a glace to his DVD player, which has a digital clock glowing green on its right side. “It’s nine thirty. Where are you planning on taking me, the high school bonfire?”

“It’s a bloody metaphor,” Sandra says, exasperated. “Do I have to pick you up? You look like you stopped exercising. I could take you.”

“Uh, no,” Cola retorts. “It’s always been a fair fight, it’ll always be a fair fight.”

He’s slipping back into banter mode, shedding some of that armor disguised as a hatred for life. Sandra keeps her hand out and tries to smother the smug feeling in her stomach.

Cola looks at her hand, then looks at her, back and forth a couple times. “You’re fucking serious,” he says.

“I’m fucking serious,” says Sandra.

“You–”

Sandra waves her open hand very close to Cola’s nose.

“Don’t slap me, Jesus Christ.” Cola smacks her hand away, and that’s the end of it – except it’s not, because instead of just letting her go, he wraps his fingers around hers. It’s a little unorthodox, as far as hauling handshakes go, but Sandra plants her feet and pulls him to stand anyway.

Nine thirty, in the bleeding dark of the smallest farm town Sandra’s ever seen, surrounded by life – a peeling coffee table with ringstains, piles of DVDs, the goddamn guitar. Cola opens himself, just a little bit, to match.

Sandra grips her brother’s hand. “The two thousands can be great, if you let them,” she says. “You’re going to make this work.”

#the fixed point theory #this coda is sponsored by granum: the place formerly known as a town #cola's a tragic character (sorry) but i can still give him a little bit of hope #grace writes #tfpt bonus content

[lizzy-calaxio]

The Lizard and the Gambler

This is a collaboration between me and @the-littlest-kojin with a new character! It'll be a little longer than what I normally post so it'll be under the read more

Watching the dice bounce along the table, Saldlona holds her breath. If this last roll comes up as a nine or higher, she will win - fifty thousand MGP in her pocket. Her gaze flicks up to the Miqo’te, arms folded, across from her, and she grins, winking at him. His fur bristles as he blushes and averts her gaze, and the Roegadyn giggles to herself as she turns her gaze back down as the small painted cubes finally come to a stop.

She leans forward in tandem with her friend, both peering at the small pieces of wood-

“Eleven!” announces the Hyur running the table. Clapping her hands with glee, Sald grins and dances in her seat, watching the pile of MGP tokens in front of her grow. Reaching across the table, she holds out a hand for her opponent- and friend - to shake.

“No hard feelings, Alha. Play again tomorrow?” Grumbling good-naturedly, the dark-skinned feline takes her hand, shaking it, his tail lashing and ears flat. “Tomorrow, indeed. You’re off to the card tables now, yes?” Patting the pocket where she keeps her Triple Triad cards, the Roegadyn grins, scooping up the pile of MGP. “Yep! I’m on a hot streak. Maybe I’ll end today with a win, for once.” As he slings his bag over his shoulder, her gambling buddy shakes his head. “You could end your day now, and then you would end with a win.” Snorting, Saldlona shakes her head, dark curls bouncing. “You know that isn’t how I roll, Alha. I play the same games every day.”

Striding away from the dice tables, a bounce in her step, the Roegadyn casts her eyes over the crowd. At one of the tables, the sight of a thick tail, swaying back and forth, catches her eye, and she nearly trips over her own feet - it is rare to see an auri woman with a tail of such a scale. Walking closer, curious about the tail’s owner, she is suddenly caught off guard when the tail lashes as the Raen cheers - and smacks her in the face, hard enough to send her sprawling on the carpeted floor.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Lizzy exchanges gil for some MGP, and shyly makes her way over to the triple triad area, as it’s the only thing she’s vaguely familiar with. She’s collected a couple cards during her adventures, and wants to try it out.

Her linkpearl rings, “Hello?”

Shio’s voice meets her horn, “Hey...are...where are you? It’s loud.”

“Sorry dear, I visited the Gold Saucer, I’m gonna try to relax, what’s up?”

A brief silence is followed by, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You aren’t exactly great with gil already.”

Lizzy assures Shio, “No no, I’m ok. I set a hard limit for myself on spending, I’m gonna try out some games, and see if I even have fun. I might just come home slightly more broke and kinda bored.”

“Hm. If you say so, I suppose I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Wait, what did you want to call me about?”

“It can wait for you to get home, no worries. Nothing pressing. Have fun!”

Lizzy grumbles slightly but makes her way to the tables regardless.

She asks the table dealer how to play, which is explained, with even a little demonstration! How nice! Lizzy tries to grasp the rules, and makes an effort for one game. Not fully understanding the rules, she opts to watch a couple games.

Then a couple more.

She begins getting more confused than figuring things out, sometimes she thinks a person wins, and it’s announced they lose, sometimes she thinks a person tied, and they won. She seems more lost but she is enjoying herself.

“Maybe I should just stick to watching and cheering, I don’t think I’m cut out for gambling.”

She begins watching a triad tournament, and the games get more serious and intense, people betting a lot more money on them. One set ties for 4 games straight and then finally, the person Lizzy wanted to win, won.

“YES!!!” she exclaims. Feeling a thud on her tail.

“oh no.” she lets out and swiftly turns around, “I’m so so sorry, I try to keep in mind where my tail is, but sometimes it gets away from me!” she kneels on the ground next to a particularly pretty roe, “I’m sorry, are you ok???”

The roe lays there, slightly dazed, and mumbles, “...tail.”

“Ah, yea, my tail is really large, it bothers a lot of people I’m so sorr-”

“Good.”

Lizzy’s train of thought gets derailed, “I’m….sorry?”

“Tail, yours, very good.” the roe gives a thumbs up.

“Uh….” Lizzy attempts to get back on track, she offers the roe a hand to get up, “Are you ok? Did I hit you too hard? I’m really sorry, I often underestimate my strength…”

“I’m...ok.”

“What’s your name? You can have the MGP I have, I wasn’t doing wellanywayandImostlyjustlikewatchingandohmygoshI’msosorry.” Lizzy’s words start blending together as the word salad spills out her mouth.

“My name is Saldlona, what’s yours?”

“Liz-Elizabeth Fr-Dotharl. Lizzy Dotharl.” still stumbling over her words.

“Lizzy, then?”

Lizzy nods, still holding her hands out with the MGP she obtained earlier.

“Your tail…”

“I’m sor-” “Would you like to be my good luck charm?” Sald interrupts lizzy.

“...Sure…?”

#ffxiv #Saldlona Sathsatzwyn #Lizzy Dotharl