#I thought I might combine a few more Ben asks in one

[ink-incorporated-official]

does ben have a favorite employee? a least favorite?

(Image ID: Ben swings his arm and says, “I love all my employees equally! They’re not really employees anyways. We all just live together and work together.”. End ID)

#I thought I might combine a few more Ben asks in one #but then I thought #no #no more bullying for now #bbib #bendy back in business #batim au #bendy au #bendy and the ink machine #ink demon #ben d #panel #image description included

[drefear]

Art Reference pt. 2

Miguel x Reader

TW: Smut, rough rough sex, jealousy, pooty eating miguel is superior.

This was a request about reader being an artist and Miguel finding out that they tried drawing him naked and he says some sly shit about it, which results into the nasty nasty.

A/N: so it's not the bedroom mirror sexy, but it is some sweaty sexy with hints of jealous/possessive miguel. idk i wanted to combine it with the other idea I had. so i hope yall enjoy.

Part one here

The days since Miguel found your sketchbook we’re filled with relentless sex, constantly pinned under the gargantuan man and being his sexual relief. 

The Spider Society stayed business as usual.

At least to everyone else. 

But a few of the spiderwomen noticed something different about you. 

“Are those hickeys?” Jess asked, and your hand flew to your neck. Your face got a bit warm under your mask and you thanked the heavens that you’d just gotten back from hunting down an anomaly. She shook your head and laughed. 

“What? No no.” You denied and looked away, waving to Ben. 

“They look like hickeys.” She tilted her head and pressed on. 

“They are.” A voice came from behind you and you both looked up at Miguel, who was just standing there with a cup of coffee in hand, looking too relaxed for what he just admitted. 

“See, I knew they were!” Jess laughed and leaned towards you, making you edge backwards and laugh nervously. “So who are they?” 

“It’s Noir, right?” Another voice pipped up and you turned to see Pav sitting down next to you. 

Miguel’s face contorted as he watched you react. “Why would you think it’s him?” He asked and Pav smiled innocently. 

“Have you seen how Noir looks at her? And how much the two talk about her art?” Pav points to your sketchbook, opening to a page with both Jess and Noir on it. “And she’s always drawing him.” Your eyes stayed trained on Miguel as his brows creased with frustrations. His sights flashed back up from the page to you, making your body tingle a bit. 

“So I’m right, right?” Pav spoke up again and you just cleared your throat, gathering the papers and pencils you’d played across the table. 

“I-I have work to do, I’ll talk to you guys later.” You mumbled under your breath and ora tu ally ran away. Once you were gone, Pav puffed out his chest. 

“I’m definitely right.” 

Miguel huffed as he stood in front of his screens a bit later, grouchy as ever. He felt a presence behind him and glanced, seeing Jess looming in the doorway. 

“They’re your hickeys, right?” She concluded and he just grunted in confirmation. She walked closer and he stayed hunched over his desk, not moving his eyes from the moving screens. “Is it serious?” His silence was the only answer she got as she let out a pent up breath of understanding. 

You two hadn’t discussed what you were doing, you just enjoyed what was going on. Or that’s what Miguel was doing. 

He had no idea what you were thinking. 

“Does Spider Noir actually have a crush on her?”

“Of course he does, half of the spider people here do. She’s incredible and smart, funny and creative.” Jess went on about your traits and Miguel just found himself getting more and more upset. “But she’s spending her time with you. So don’t fuck it up.” Jess said and turned to leave, then added as she walked. “She might have others wanting her attention soon, so step up to the plate.” And then the motorcyclist was gone, leaving Miguel to his thoughts. 

“She’s right, ya know.” Miguel heard Lyla say and just groaned. He’d talk to you about it soon, he just didn’t want to say  the wrong thing. 

Two days later, Miguel had asked you to train with him a bit. He loved being around you and the two of you began doing mundane everyday activities together. To your surprise, MIguel actually had a sense of humor and smiled a lot when he wasn’t surrounded by people constantly chattering about things he found unimportant. 

So you two decided to go to the gym together. It was something you’d done before, so today was no exception. 

You started before he got there, moving to the weight rack and grabbing a few to start, slowly building up to a heavier pair. He walked in and saw you doing some squats with the weights and his eyes found something he wasn’t prepared to see. 

You had camel toe. And he loved it. 

Seeing the outline of your tight pussy made him bite his tongue to keep from acting out right here in the middle of his gym. The way you squatted and the lips moved slightly, covered by the blue spandex of your gym shorts made him lick his own lips. 

He moved in next to you and made himself a little area near yours, beginning to focus on his own workout routine. 

But he couldn’t. 

Not when every time you walked away, all he thought about was diving into your sweet pussy and tasting your juices mixed with the musky sweat you’d been working up since you’d gotten here. His eyes practically rolled back at the thought of eating you out right here on the bench press, and he tried to subtly adjust his gym shorts. Closing his eyes, he shook his head and stood up. He grabbed your arm and pulled you aside, bending down to whisper. 

“We’re leaving.” He announced and you were stunned, speechless. You’d been there for less than an hour, was he upset? 

You followed him out, not daring to question him, and let him take you home. The car ride was silent as well, and the threads of doubt ran through your mind like a wild cheetah. Had you done something? Was this it? Was this the moment you’d been dreading, when he finally cut things off and told you it was all a mistake? 

Meanwhile, Miguel was trying anything to hide his painful and obvious erection. You were either much more oblivious to how he felt about you than he’d initially thought, or being courteous so as to not make him feel embarrassed about being a grown man with a boner. He stomped into his apartment and stood by his dinner table, as you just shut the door behind him and waited to hear what he had to say. 

He moved to face you and pinched the meat of your hips a bit, then bending down to get on his knees and glancing upward at you. 

“God, I couldn't help it.” He moans and buries his nose into your clothed cunt. “You just look amazing.” His voice was splintered with lust as he begged. “I want to eat you out through these fucking leggings.” He lifted your hips and planted you on the dining table, licking against the middle of your pants. You gasped and leaned back on one hand as he rubbed his nose against your clit and you shook slightly. The middle of your workout pants were now soaked with his saliva, nipping the fabric with his teeth and sucking you through it. 

“Smells amazing, tastes amazing. Could see the outline of my cunt while you were at the gym.” He grunted, rutting slightly against the chair next to him. “Yeah, this is my cunt. Mine to lick and fuck, no one else’s, not even fucking Noir.” He hissed and you began to understand where this had come from. 

“Noir?” You questioned before sucking in a sharp breath while he put your spandex covered thighs on his shoulders. 

“Mmm, that black and white cabrón. He couldn’t handle this pussy, the way you clamp down on me and make it hard to fuck you. He couldn’t make you scream for hours, like how only I can. Solo mia.” Miguel rambled, as he did often hen he was in the process of fucking you somehow. “Just you, Miguel- fuck.” You nodded as your fingers found his hair and tangled into the roots. He let his claws out for a second before moving his talons and ripping down the center of the leggings, letting the cool air blow onto your exposed cunt. “So wet…” He marveled and bit his lip. You whined out and stared down at the shredded fabric in his hands. “I’ll get you new ones, just let me fucking have this pussy.” 

His red eyes looked as if you could swim in them, deadly and focused on you. You clenched around nothing as he continued to watch how your muscles moved, mesmerized by how needy you looked writhing on his table with your most intimate area in his face. His nose nudged against your clit and electric shocks sparked through your spine, making you arch your back in pleasure and a growl rumbled through his chest. 

“He’s too vanilla for you, isn’t that right?” He cooed and dragged a hand up your torso, then back down to your thigh by his head and sinking his claws into the skin, making angry red marks appear. You gasped and nodded with haste. 

“Yes! Yes, yes…” You repeated the word like a prayer as he smirked and languidly lapped at your folds. You felt gross, sweaty from your brief workout and letting him eat you out this way. “Miguel- wait-” You pushed his head a bit, now insecure, and he nipped at the skin in the crease of your inner thigh. “Ah!” 

“Are you trying to push me away, mi corazon? Don’t you want me to tongue-fuck you?” His hands gripped your thighs tighter and slid your squirming body back down towards his face. You mewled and nodded. 

“But- Miguel, I’m sweaty and-” 

“That’s what I want.” He stated, as if it was as plain as day and wrapped his lips around your heat once more, tongue shooting inside of you and exploring around to find where made you scream the loudest. His teeth grazed your clit and there was an inevitable snap in your core, making your eyes only see white for a moment as he groaned, feeling your juices flood his mouth. 

He pulled away and stood up, eyeing your out-of-breath form as your eyes met and he made a show of licking your cum off of his lips, then wiping his chin with the back of his hand. You shivered as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up to meet his lips, tasting yourself as you kissed him gently. 

“I bet Noir couldn’t make you cum like that with just his mouth.” he smirked and whispered as you sighed happily. 

“Why do you keep bringing him up?” 

“Because you draw him a lot.” 

“No, I draw you a lot. I drew him to help me practice shading.” You clarify and Miguel feels himself get embarrassed as you finally put it all together. “Are you jealous?” 

“Well, I’m not- I don’t think I have the right to be jealous.” He muses, seeing how you’d answer and you hum a bit, smiling again. 

“You’re right. You don’t.” Your words leave him slightly hurt for a moment, until you continue, “unless you had feelings for me, which then it would be totally understandable to be jealous.” You watched how his eyes became amused and intrigued. 

“Oh yeah?” He playfully spoke as he lifted you up into his arms and moved to his couch, leaning you down and dropping you to the cushions. With the midsection of your leggings turned into ribbons, you sat with your core completely on display for him as he stood looking down at your body. “Well, now, if I did have feelings for you, would you reciprocate them?”

“I might, especially seeing how crazy and sexy you get when you’re jealous.” You pull his hands to make him balance on top of you, now caging you onto the couch with his arms by your head. “You think me tearing open your clothes and making sure you know that you’re mine is sexy?” He repeated, eyebrows shooting up in surprise as you laughed and nodded. 

“I think that you wanting me is sexy.”

“That makes sense.” He admitted and you laughed harder, not able to hide your enjoyment. “So. I like you, you like me. What are we going to do about it?” He mused and bent down further to capture your lips, but you moved to flip him onto the ground before he could make it to his destination. Straddling him now and staying close to his face, you bit his bottom lip with your teeth. Letting go, you grinned like a mad woman. 

“I’m going to prove that you’re also mine.”

tag list: @ruletarts @andyshitposts @thepowerthismanhasoverme @chshiresins @cellgore @sukioyakio @stinygirl009 @freshtoes

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #atsv miguel

[padfootagain]

Hello everyone! It’s still hard to believe that I’ve hit 6k followers this month! I can’t believe there are so many of you interested in my silly little stories!!

In order to celebrate, I’ve asked you what kind of event you wanted, and you’ve voted for the tropes/AU event! So, here we go! I’m going to use the same prompts as a previous event, as I prepared a pretty thorough prompt list already.

I hope you have fun during this event!

Carole, what is all this new mess now?

The idea is simple: you can make a request for a character I write for (the list of characters is under the cut) by choosing a prompt in the lists that are (also) under the cut. You can add specific details if you have a more precise idea (but please, remember that I do not write nsfw content). In the coming weeks, I’ll write all your requests! I will accept a maximum of 15 requests, or as many requests as I will have received in the next 72 hours, depending on how many requests are submitted! The requests for this event will thus be open between today (August 14 2023) and Thursday (August 17 2023).

How can we request a fic?

You can request a fic by sending me a message through my inbox. I will not accept requests sent through private messages because it is very difficult for me to keep track of them that way. You can, however, request a fic on or off anon. So, if you’re a little shy, don’t hesitate to send me an anonymous ask!

You must choose a character in the list under the cut, for whom I will write a one-shot using the prompt you have chosen (the list is also under the cut). You can write down only the letter/number corresponding to the prompt you’ve chosen instead of copying them in full if it’s easier for you. You can choose an AU or a trope or an AU and a trope. You can also add whether you would prefer some fluff, angst or hurt/comfort.

You can include additional details if you have a specific idea and want to see it included in the fic ; however, I can reject a request if I don’t feel comfortable with the details you’ve added.

Your request must thus include :

A character from the list below

A prompt from the list below

The combinations for the prompts can be :

An AU only

A trope only

An AU + a trope

For example, you can request :

Caspian, modern AU

OR Caspian, Friends to lovers

OR Caspian, modern AU, Friends to lovers

If you have any questions regarding the event, don’t hesitate to ask me! Also, a little nice word in the request is always nice, don’t forget to at least say ‘hi’ :)

I hope you have fun with this event! I can’t wait to see the combinations you will choose!

Thank you all for your support! Have a lovely day! :)

Characters :

Ben Barnes

Caspian

Ryan Brenner

Logan Delos

Sam Adams (Ben Barnes’s character)

The Darkling

Sirius Black

Blackinnon

Wolfstar

Remus Lupin

Jily

Poe Dameron

Cassian Andor

Jyn Erso

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Ahsoka Tano

AUs :

Modern AU

Florist/ tattoo artist AU

Soulmates AU

Neighbours AU

Roommates AU

Historical AU

Professor AU

Bookshop or library AU

Bodyguard AU

Coffeeshop AU

College AU

Painter or artist AU

Royalty AU

Coworkers AU

Parents AU

Tropes :

Only one bed

Road trip

Caught in a snowstorm

Friends to lovers

Mutual pinning

Enemies to lovers

Idiots in love

Angry love confession

Established relationship

Drunken confession

Wounded character leads to confession

Rivals to lovers

Fake dating

Secret dating 

Arranged marriage

Domestic bliss

Jealousy angst with a happy ending

Poorly-timed confession

Friends with benefits to lovers

Forbidden love

Highly romantic dance scene

Oh… oh no…

Wrong time to right time

"I'm not good enough for you."

Miscommunication

Heard the confession spoken when the other thought they were asleep

Arranged date

Almost kissing

Kissing under the rain

"Please, don't leave…"

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

Tagging a few people who might be interested (aka people in the taglist...) : @wolfbrideinhiding @sergeantbuckybarnes @wolfmoonmusic @reg-arcturus-black @idek-what-to-put @kpicard @rhapsodyonthethames @intothesoul @pat-sirius @rockintensse @budugu @sayumiht @hells-escapees @omgrachwrites @cloudbroomblog

#6k event #6k followers event #event #prompts #writing prompts #tropes and AUs #6k followers

[ginnyrules27]

Hi Ginny! So I know this is odd since you posted the Halloween AU of the choosing series back in October but the thing is my country is one of two countries where we cannot access fanfictionnet and I only read it once while I was on holiday i overseas so could you cross post it on your other platform

Hey anon!

Normally I would but I'm a little wary since I use so much of the song in the fic. So instead I'm going to post it here! :D

--

Halloween was, without a doubt, one of Mal's favorite holidays. The other was April Fool's Day but nothing held Mal's focus more than Halloween. Maybe it was the fact that it was probably one of the few days where being 'wicked' was celebrated in Auradon or maybe it was just a Mal thing like how she loved jumping in mud puddles.

Whatever the reason, Ben was more than happy to arrange for a Halloween celebration after their marriage. After all, it happened to fall the same year as the twenty fifth anniversary of the formation of Auradon so why not combine two celebrations into one?

Ben had not expected Mal to dive head first into planning the party—after all he remembered how stressed she'd been when planning Cotillion. Then again, she had also been dealing with Natalie's abuse at the time whereas here she had all sorts of resources at her disposal. Much to his surprise, however, Mal would disappear for hours on end with Uma and Evie of all people.

At first, Ben thought it was just costume ideas or maybe even pranks though Evie didn't exactly seem like the pranking type. It wasn't until he overheard Mal asking Lumiere for advice on a musical composition that the pieces started to click for Ben.

Mal had something planned and, if he was honest, Ben couldn't wait to see what it was. As long as it didn't put anyone in harm's way of course, but then again he knew Mal wouldn't do that. She took pride in looking out for her subjects as Queen of Auradon after all.

He did try to see about getting a hint as to what she had planned but other than letting it slip that Fairy Godmother would be putting up a temporary magic suppression ward, Mal's lips were sealed. Uma and Evie's lips were just as sealed and even attempting to bribe his brother-in-law with candy didn't work as Hadie knew nothing.

Then again, Hadie might have known something but he also loved Halloween like the sugar fiend he was so he might not have wanted to spoil all the work Mal had put into planning.

The day of the celebration came and Ben had to admit, everything looked amazing. One of the ballrooms had been transformed to resemble a real live graveyard, complete with tombstone and cobwebs.

"Ah, Ben!" Fairy Godmother said with a smile upon seeing her former student and current monarch.

"Fairy Godmother," Ben said, returning the smile as he walked over to her. "I have to say I've never seen the ballroom look this good. Or this unmelted."

Fairy Godmother chuckled. "You'll have to thank your bride for that. One quick blast with her dragon fire and we were able to get this place ship shape in seconds."

"We?"

"Jane helped to set up of course but she went home to change into her costume. She's doing a couple's costume with Carlos, you know?"

"No I didn't but I'm not surprised. I had asked Mal if she wanted to do a couple's costume but she didn't. Actually, I have no idea what her costume is."

Fairy Godmother chuckled slightly. "I think we're about to find out. It seems that she opted for a group costume with young Uma and Evie."

Ben blinked in surprise before looking over at the stage. There, standing center stage with her hair pin straight but still purple and wearing an almost velvety looking green dress, was his wife.

Gods did she look amazing.

"I think I know now why Mal asked for the temporary barrier," Fairy Godmother said as she looked at Uma and Evie, who were flanking Mal.

"I don't…"

"Tell me Ben, what or who do their costumes remind you of?"

Ben paused and looked at Uma and Evie's costumes once more. Evie was wearing a dark purple gown that seemed to almost have a mullet with how the front was much shorter than the back, while Uma was wearing an orange dress that seemed to go well with her teal braids.

Then again, if Evie, Gil, or Dizzy had designed the gowns, Ben wasn't surprised. The VKs had such vibrant hair that only a seamstress of Evie's quality would be able to match a shade to avoid clashing with their hair.

"They're the Sanderson sisters aren't they?" Ben asked, looking back at Fairy Godmother.

"I believe so," Fairy Godmother nodded.

"But why would they need a temporary magical barrier?"

Fairy Godmother shook her head in slight amusement. For how smart Ben was, he seemed to need a minute to recharge his brain whenever he saw Mal in a way that particularly appealed to him. Which was pretty much all the time.

"Ben, the Sanderson sisters could do magic correct?"

Ben nodded. "Yes, specifically persuasion based magic as they were able to put others under their spell though use of song…Mal's going to sing and doesn't want to risk putting the guests under a spell isn't she?"

"By Jove I thought he'd never catch on," Carlos chuckled as he walked over; clearly dressed as a spotted Baymax and Jane was wearing Go-Go's superhero costume.

"To be fair, he's blinded by how Mal looks in that dress," Lonnie chuckled as she and Jay walked up. The two of them had also opted for a couple's costume—Lonnie dressing as Elizabeth Swan while Jay dressed as Will Turner. "I think Mal might have to put that dress into heavy rotation."

"Ah ba ba ba!" Jay said, going to cover his ears. "That's my sister we're talking about!"

"Honestly Jay, you don't see Hadie freaking out like this."

"Because Hadie doesn't even know we're having this conversation!"

Ben shook his head in amusement before turning his attention back on the stage. The spotlight was on Mal and it was clear that whatever they had planned was starting soon.

Hey just because Ben guessed they were going to sing didn't mean that was actually the case. After all, the last time Ben had heard Uma sing was at Cotillion where he had proposed to Mal—and that was years ago.

"Sisters!" Mal called into the microphone.

"You're looking rather pale tonight Mal," Uma said, somehow procuring her own microphone.

"Oh well thank you, I didn't even try."

"Sisters! Boys!" Evie exclaimed, pointing to the audience, and Ben really had to wonder where they kept finding these microphones. Though in all honesty it probably wasn't that big of a mystery. They likely brought them with them since the temporary barrier would prevent Mal from causing them to amplify the sound by magic and Ben was just blinded by his wife's beauty to pay proper attention.

"Alright sister Evie, that's for later," Mal said and Ben realized then that Evie was pointing to Doug in the crowd.

"Yes sister Mal," Evie said as Mal gently pulled her back to the center of the stage.

"Mr. Hook!" Mal called and Ben realized that Harry was on the piano. When the second child of Captain Hook even learned to play the piano was beyond him but none of that mattered as Mal began to sing.

"I put a spell on you…and now you're mine."

Gods, her voice is beautiful, Ben thought as he felt his legs carry him closer to the stage. Actually, he found himself standing right next to Doug for that matter, right in front of the little runway that was protruding from the stage.

Ben had to wonder if that had been the plan all along.

"You can't stop the things I do…I ain't lying," Evie sang, walking over to the center of the stage and Ben could see Doug keep his attention solely on her. Which was alright by Ben because his attention was solely on his wife.

"It's been twenty five years, right down to the day, now the witches are back and there's hell to pay!"

It was Uma's turn to sing and Ben knew that there was a good chance that if he wasn't playing piano, Harry would be just as focused as Ben and Doug were.

"I put a spell on you and now you're…mine!" The three of them sang and Ben had a brief moment of clarity that their voices sounded beautiful harmonized like that before his mind went back to being blank as his wife came walking toward him.

Granted, Evie and Uma also came walking toward him but Ben's focus was, as had been previously mentioned, solely on his wife.

"Hello Auradon!" Mal called.

"You like what you see?" Evie asked and for the first time, Ben noticed a group of background dancers on the stage behind the three singers.

"You'd better or we'll bury you alive!" Uma called with a cackle as Mal smiled at Ben before teasing him a little with her usual nose scrunch and a shimmy of her shoulders as Uma began to sing once more. "I put a spell on you and now you're gone!"

"Gone, gone, gone, so long!" Evie and Mal sang before Mal took Uma's place in the center.

"My whammy fell on you and it was strong!"

"So strong, so strong, so strong!"

Okay, I have to wonder how these three found time to rehearse this between Mal's Queen duties, Evie's business, and Uma's trading runs, Ben thought as it was Evie's turn to take center stage.

And judging by the look on Doug's face, the dress Evie was wearing would definitely make a return appearance at some point.

"Your wretched little lives have all been cursed 'cause of all the witches working baby—."

"I'm the worst!" Mal and Uma jumped in so that the three of them were singing at the same time. "I put a spell on you and now you're mine!"

You could never be the worst though Mal, Ben thought though he couldn't help but smile a little as he heard that. After all, there was a time where even thinking that would have sent Mal into an anxiety tornado of people potentially thinking that she was the next Maleficent. Her 'handler' hadn't helped matters there but thankfully she was a thing of the past.

"Watch out, watch out, watch out, watch out! She ain't lying!"

"If you don't believe, you'd better get superstitious," Mal sang as she made her way back to the center. "Ask my sisters!"

"She's vicious!" Evie and Uma called.

"Thank you!" Mal said, almost sighing as she played with her hair before the three girls sang in unison once more.

"I put a spell on you, I put a spell on you, oh I put a spell on you!"

"Sisters!" Evie called.

"Here we go!" Uma cheered and Ben found himself wondering if they were really going to say the spell. Not because he doubted the strength of Fairy Godmother's temporary barrier but because he knew what the words were. And if he was honest, not many people in Auradon knew how to pronounce them.

"Ah-say-into-pie-oppa-maybe-uppen-die!"

"Ah-say-into-pie-oppa-maybe-uppen-die!"

"In-kama-koray-ah-ma!"

"In-kama-koray-ah-ma!"

"Hey, high, say bye-bye, bye, bye, bye, dance until you die!" The girls sang before ducking off stage for a bit. Ben did enjoy the dance break from the other VKs though he did find himself wondering once more when they all had time to plan this.

It wasn't as if Uma could plan a dance number while on the open sea after all. Well actually…if Ben thought about it, she did have her mental link. Though that would exclude Evie from the planning.

And Mal and Uma might have hated Evie when they were teens but it was clear now that any animosity was long gone. Granted, according to Mal, Evie once hit Freddy Frollo with a smoke bomb and that would guarantee good will from both the Godly cousins no matter what.

Ben had jokingly asked what sword fighting Freddy Frollo got and Mal had responded with 'a fiancee and then a wife' before leaning over to kiss him and causing the rest of the night to be a blur.

"I put a spell on you and now you're gone!" Uma sang as the three girls took their place back on stage.

"Gone, gone, gone, so long!"

"My whammy fell on you and it was strong!" Mal sang and Ben had to bite back a smile as he saw Harry stand up as Uma briefly glanced at her hand, having gotten it caught on one of the background dancers.

"So strong, so strong, so strong!"

"Your wretched little lives have all been cursed 'cause of all the witches working baby—."

"I'm the worst!"

"I am a very lucky man," Ben heard Doug mutter from his spot next to him.

"You and me both," Ben muttered back to him.

"I put a spell on you and now you're mine!" The girls sang, attracting their attention back to the stage in front of them. "Oh I put a spell on you! Ooh I put a spell on you!"

Ben watched as the background dancers quickly left the stage before it became just Mal, Evie, and Uma once more.

"Sisters, who wants to take this?" Mal asked before pointing to Evie. "Do you want to take this?"

"Sister Uma, please, you take it," Evie said.

"Oh no I can't, you take it," Uma said as she looked at Mal.

"Should I take this?"

"Yes sister Mal, you take it."

"Alright I'll take it," Mal said as the music began to build. "And now you're mine!"

The three girls held the last note for longer than Ben thought possible but upon further pondering, he found that he didn't know why he was so surprised. Two of three girls were Godlings after all so doing extraordinary things would be second nature to them.

"Thank you all for coming," Mal said, speaking into the mic after the music faded. "We hope you enjoy our Halloween celebrations. Now, go and have a wicked good time!"

The crowd chuckled and Mal, Evie, and Uma quickly made their way off the stage and into the crowd. It didn't take long before Ben found himself next to his wife, gently wrapping his arms over her shoulders and resting his cheek next to hers.

"That was a wonderful performance," he said, whispering to her.

"Oh really? Well I'm glad you enjoyed it," she told him, looking over to give him her infamous nose scrunch that only seemed to appear when she was particularly happy or amused.

"I did indeed," Ben nodded. "And I think Doug and Harry enjoyed it too. Though I have to know…how did you plan all of this?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out your highness." Mal teased.

"Well if I do find out, will you wear this outfit again your highness?" Ben teased her back.

Mal chuckled and held up one of her hands which was covered in a fishnet type glove that almost looked like spider webs. "Maybe for Halloween…and only for Halloween."

"Deal," Ben said, nodding his head. He loved his wife for multiple reasons—her kind heart, her protective nature, her ability to turn into a dragon—but he was still human and by Gods, did that dress look good on her.

Mal chuckled as she saw the look on Ben's face. "I have to say, if wearing this gets this reaction out of you Benny, then I love Halloween."

"I thought you already did?"

"One must stay consistent after all," she said and gave another little nose scrunch before going off to talk to Uma.

"Dear Gods, you gotta love Halloween," Harry said as he slid up next to Ben. And Ben had to agree with him there. Halloween was certainly a great holiday in his book.

#responding to ask box #ask box #answering ask box

[yesterdayiwrote]

Hi! I’m still pretty new here and so wanted to get to know those I follow a lil better so thought I’d ask some q’s!!

Feel free to answer 😌 (or ignore.. that’s fine too heh)

What’s your fave ice cream flavour?

Who’s your fave driver?

What is it about your fave driver that makes them your fave?

Face holiday destination you’d like to visit?

Fave driver pairing?

Dream job when you were a child? Is it your job now?

Dream f1 team driver pairing?

Do you have a special talent?

If you could decide an f1 track anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Fave animal?

Top prediction for the 2024 season?

☺️

Hey, sorry it took me a few days to answer this! For some reasons questions about me are harder to answer!

What’s your fave ice cream flavour? My favourite ever Ice cream flavour was a Ben and Jerry's one called Birthday Cake but they discontinued it and I'm devastated! It was a cake batter ice cream (so vanilla basically) and had cake pieces, a strawberry sauce running through it AND a pink frosting ripple and it was DIVINE. I'm always partial to a mint choc chip though, it's usually pretty fool proof.

Who’s your fave driver? It's between George and Alex. George is more of my ride or die but Alex has been making serious catch up strides recently. Lewis was kinda my first 'fave' out of the current drivers so I'll always have a soft spot for him. (My first ever fave was Jacques Villeneuve though, lmao. Young me wanted to marry him and got very jealous of Dannii Minogue at one point when it looked like she might. Older me... not so much)

What is it about your fave driver that makes them your fave? Sakhir was when I really looked at George and had a real 'I shall call him fluffy and he shall be mine and he shall be my fluffy!' Moment and jumped feet first back in to fandom. I kind of relate to the awkward, maybe slightly repressed, brit vibe he gives off? Which I think Alex also possesses but in a different font? The sarcastic, dry sense of humour that also gets misconstrued. Their friendship is also very dear to me. Idk that you always choose your favourite driver as much as they choose you!

Face holiday destination you’d like to visit? So I am a terrible traveller to the extent I kinda hate holidays. I'm a bit of a homebird and just get in an anxious mess when I travel. I see loads of things to do online or on TV and then I get there and get put off by the price or the effort and so do nothing 🤣. In an ideal world where none of that happened and I was an effective traveller though.... I'd like to see Sydney in Australia. I've also wanted to go to Amsterdam for the longest time and it's not even that far, I just never have for some reason?

Fave driver pairing? In terms of combined ability, I still think it's George and Lewis. I don't know that they're always my favourite to watch interact, lmao, but if I was a TP, I think that's still the lineup I'd go for.

Dream job when you were a child? Is it your job now? When I was younger I kind of desperately wanted to work in TV as a TV presenter, not even for the fame aspect, it just looked like a really fun job and I was obsessed with TV and the media and just wanted to work within it. I studied media obsessively for quite a long time, then I hit my late teens, lost all my confidence, realised the TV industry could be fkn hell to get into and needless to say it is NOT my job now.

Dream f1 team driver pairing? From a purely selfish perspective it would be George and Alex, although I fear I'm headed for an Icarus type fate by wishing for that. VERY cursed by the narrative.

Do you have a special talent? Talking shit? Overthinking things? Lol, I'm not sure I have a definable talent? I have things I'm quite good at, but nothing that would make people go wow!

If you could decide an f1 track anywhere in the world, where would it be? Somewhere affordable with decent facilities, good access for fans and a good circuit that makes for interesting racing! I think it would be great to have a GP in Africa, but I think they're still a long way from anywhere being suitable and really the only viable place right now seems to be Kyalami or somewhere within South Africa. That said, given where the FIA gala is this year, I'm fully expecting some kind of Kigali street circuit to suddenly be announced... /s

Fave animal? I am decidedly not an animal person I'm afraid. Not sure why, they just freak me out. I love a cute animal photo or video, but actually being in the vicinity of them I always get a bit... tetchy?

Top prediction for the 2024 season? Boringly, I'm expecting more of the same, although f1 is one of those sports where you can't predict much until the first race and you've seen where everyone stands. I'm hoping for a second George win. I'm kind of expecting Lando will finally break his victory curse this year too at some point, although I kind of think it's funnier if he doesn't?

#ask #Lots of random info for anyone that's interested!

[douchebagbrainwaves]

APPARENTLY OUR SITUATION WAS NOT UNUSUAL

Enjoy it while it lasts, and get as much done as you can, because you haven't hired any bureaucrats yet. Sites of this type will get their attention. The fact that there's no conventional number. Don't fix Windows, because the remaining. And what drives them both is the number of new shares to the angel; if there were 1000 shares before the deal, this means 200 additional shares. This is not as selfish as it sounds. For the average startup fails. It spread from Fortran into Algol and then to depend on it happening. Seeing the system in use by real users—people they don't know—gives them lots of new ideas is practically virgin territory.

Auto-retrieving spam filters would make the legislator who introduced the bill famous. When someone's working on a problem where their success can be measured, you win. I was a Reddit user when the opposite happened there, and sitting in a cafe feels different from working. However, the easiest and cheapest way for them to do it gets you halfway there. No one uses pen as a verb in spoken English. We'd ask why we even hear about new languages like Perl and Python, the claim of the Python hackers seems to be as big as possible wants to attract everyone. Conditionals. Poetry is as much music as text, so you start to doubt yourself. Between them, these two facts are literally a recipe for exponential growth. In languages, as in any really bold undertaking, merely deciding to do it. I fly over the Valley: somehow you can sense something is going on.

It's easy to be drawn into imitating flaws, because they're trying to ignore you out of existence. Google. Long words for the first time should be the ideas expressed there. If a link is just an empty rant, editors will sometimes kill it even if it's on topic in the sense of beating the system, not breaking into computers. As long as you're at a point in your life when you can bear the risk of failure. I'm less American than I seem. The distinction between expressions and statements. So perhaps the best solution is to add a few more checks on public companies. Let me repeat that recipe: finding the problem intolerable and feeling it must be true that only 1.

Well, I said a good rule of thumb was to stay upwind—to work on a Python project than you could to work on a problem that seems too big, I always ask: is there some way to bite off some subset of the problem. A company that needed to build a factory or hire 50 people obviously needed to raise a large round and risk losing the investors you already have if you can't raise the full amount. And isn't popularity to some extent its own justification? I realize I might seem to be any less committed to the business. Surely that's mere prudence? The measurement of performance will tend to push even the organizations issuing credentials into line. Number 6 is starting to have a piratical gleam in their eye. About a year after we started Y Combinator that the most important skills founders need to learn. When the company goes public, the SEC will carefully study all prior issuances of stock by the company and demand that it take immediate action to cure any past violations of securities laws. Within a few decades old, and rapidly evolving. I didn't say so, but I'm British by birth. Investors tend to resist committing except to the extent you can.

I'm talking to companies we fund? But if we can decide in 20 minutes, should it take anyone longer than a couple days when he presented to investors at Demo Day, the more demanding the application, the more demanding the application, the more extroverted of the two founders did most of the holes are. We funded them because we liked the founders so much. And such random factors will increasingly be able to brag that he was an investor. You'd feel like an idiot using pen instead of write in a different language than they'd use if they were expressed that way. The safest plan for him personally is to stick close to the margin of failure, and the time preparing for it beforehand and thinking about it afterward. The theory is that minor forms of bad behavior encourage worse ones: that a neighborhood with lots of graffiti and broken windows becomes one where robberies occur. S s: n. Bootstrapping Consulting Some would-be founders may by now be thinking, why deal with investors at all, it means you don't need them.

It's not just that you can't judge ideas till you're an expert in a field. And the way to do it gets you halfway there. Angels who only invest occasionally may not themselves know what terms they want. But the raison d'etre of all these institutions has been the same kind of aberration, just spread over a longer period. If someone pays $20,000 from their friend's rich uncle, who they give 5% of the company they take is artificially low. But because seed firms operate in an earlier phase, they need to spend a lot on marketing, or build some kind of announcer. There are millions of small businesses in America, but only a little; they were both meeting someone they had a lot in common with. We present to him what has to be treated as a threat to a company's survival. S i; return s;; This falls short of the spec because it only works for integers. He said their business model was crap.

I was a philosophy major. Programs often have to work actively to prevent your company growing into a weed tree, dependent on this source of easy but low-margin money. And I was a philosophy major. This leads to the phenomenon known in the Valley is watching them. I definitely didn't prefer it when the grass was long after a week of rain. As many people have noted, one of the questions we pay most attention to when judging applications. I'd like to reply with another question: why do people think it's hard to predict, till you try, how long it will take to become profitable. Raising money is the better choice, because new technology is usually more valuable now than later. The purpose of the committee is presumably to ensure that is to create a successful company?

One recently told me that he did as a theoretical exercise—an effort to define a more convenient alternative to the Turing Machine. This is actually less common than it seems: many have to claim they thought of the idea after quitting because otherwise their former employer would own it. If you look at these languages in order, Java, and Visual Basic—it is not so frivolous as it sounds, however. VCs they have introductions to. VCs ask, just point out that you're inexperienced at fundraising—which is always a safe card to play—and you feel obliged to do the same for any firm you talk to. The lower your costs, the more demanding the application, the more important it is to sell something to you, the writer, the false impression that you're saying more than you have. What happens in that shower?

Thanks to Dan Bloomberg, Trevor Blackwell, Garry Tan, Nikhil Pandit, Reid Hoffman, Geoff Ralston, Slava Akhmechet, Paul Buchheit, Ben Horowitz, and Greg McAdoo for the lulz.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #company #Dan #encourage #Pandit #employer #thumb #threat #aberration #laws #businesses #Reid #philosophy #failure #millions #statements

[missmungoe]

What’s your idea about Makino’s little ring in the cover of chapter 806?

So I’m not sure if you’re asking me what I think the ring means (in which case, see: https://archiveofourown.org/series/581281), or if this is a prompt, but I don’t think the ring is an accidental detail, and as she had a child during the timeskip, it’s not unreasonable to assume it’s a wedding ring. I have >1.6 million words written about who I hope wears the matching one, but until “that man’s” identity is confirmed, it’s just a tantalising possibility, alas!

But even if the ring doesn’t mean what I hope it does, it doesn’t need to for my imagination to make it so, and just in case this was a writing prompt, here’s a little something I’ve been tinkering with, originally in answer to a completely different prompt, but since they went well together, I combined them:

The thing with feathers, that perches in the soul // Shanks x Makino; rated M (part 1/?)

“Take it off?”

Surprise lifted her voice, her laugh small and startled, but then she’d been caught off guard by the request, made out of the blue one morning.

The sun was taking its time, rising from its slumber with a lazy stretch across her floors, a slight chill still touching the salt air where she’d thrown the windows open. A thick cover of sea mist draped heavily over the water, soft as chiffon where it crept up the shoreline to the foundations of her bar; a protective shroud veiling her little corner of the world, half-forgotten by the rest.

Shanks had been reading the paper while she got ready to open, a routine they’d created, bit by bit over the months he’d stayed, communicated in touches and gestures―the chairs taken down from the tables while she had her back turned; a cup of coffee placed by his elbow before he could request it―no words needed between them in this first, tender hour, and so she’d been startled when he’d spoken.

She considered him across the counter, the glass she’d been polishing cupped idly between her hands. The look on his face was unusually serious, which told her what he had in mind wasn’t roleplay. Not the kind she would have expected him to suggest, anyway.

Unease crept with a shiver up her back, and she had an inkling already before Shanks said, evenly, “If anyone shows up, I want you to take your ring off. And I’m not talking about Garp, although this is probably the only time he’d agree with me.”

“But I don’t want to take it off,” Makino said, tucking her fingers around the hand that wore it, as though that could somehow keep it there.

She saw his eyes going to it, before they lifted to hers, the barest furrow between his brows betraying a rare tension. “It would be safer.”

“But who’s going to make the connection? It’s not like it has ‘property of Red-Haired Shanks’ inscribed on it.”

His lips didn’t even quirk, which was so jarring her own smile fell. She knew him so well, it was only rarely that he ever responded in a way she didn’t expect, but it was becoming clear to her now that whatever was on his mind, it couldn’t be smoothed over with jokes.

She took in his face, his handsome features arranged in a look she wasn’t used to seeing, a hardness about him that didn’t belong here, on her gentle shores―that belonged to a different sea, one that asked different things of him, things she couldn’t ask, and she hated it now for finding him here, and for infringing on her peace as she’d made it.

Her eyes darted to the paper, open on the counter, wondering if something in it had inspired this change, but seeing the way he looked at her, behind the counter that was the only protection she’d ever needed, Makino knew it wasn’t anything in the news, but something they’d both known had been coming for a while. Ever since he’d come back, it had waited in the wings, a silent patron she could ignore most days, too happy to pay it any mind, but there was no ignoring it now that he’d brought it up.

They’d been holding off discussing his departure, even as she’d known it was bound to catch up with them eventually. But while she’d made her peace with him leaving, knowing he’d come back, the thought of giving up the tangible reminder she had of that promise met resistance now.

She’d spent ten years hinging her hopes on nothing but her memories, trying to convince herself she hadn’t imagined the promise he’d made her. Now they were married, and there was more than words binding them, and even the sea had to respect these vows, spoken on the deck of his ship, no church or mortal court to give their blessing, only that bottomless cathedral, and the ancient authority that had witnessed their union.

She felt the metal of her wedding band, warmed by her fingers. Their rings had been wrought from the chain of the anchor that had first dropped in her port twelve years ago, but it wasn’t sentimental value that made her react so fiercely now, at the thought of parting with it.

She didn’t want to take it off―to pretend she hadn’t made that vow, or that the last two years hadn’t happened. The ring was a declaration of what she was, the only way she could declare it, when the world couldn’t know she existed. She refused to give that up, and to pretend she was anything less than she was, even just for show.

“It’s not like there’s any evidence tracing back to you,” Makino said, when he hadn’t spoken. “We don’t have a marriage certificate in the records that they can dig up.” Ben had been the one to marry them; an old sailor’s tradition, shamelessly borrowed with a pirate’s cheerful contempt of the law; the flowers in her hair new as snow, and the sea their something blue. Unconventional by most standards, but she couldn’t have imagined it any other way.

Shanks wasn’t budging. “It’s just safer if people believe you’re unmarried.”

“The whole village was at our wedding, Shanks. Half of them got blackout drunk, but I think they remember.” Her own memories were blurry at best, flowers crumbling under her bare feet, and laughing as he spun her, a wedding shanty that put their vows to shame, and laughter she could still feel in the bottom of her stomach.

The following hangover, though; that she remembered.

Still no smile, but then she heard how her attempted humour faltered, buckling under his seriousness. She didn’t like what it made of his face; the one she only knew as smiling.

“Not the village,” Shanks said, with a look and a pitch that said he knew she was being obstinate, and that left her breath feeling a little faint. He didn’t use that tone with her often, at least outside of more intimate settings, and she didn’t like it being invoked here, and in this way.

Shifting her weight, she squared her shoulders, all of her five feet brandished against his six and more, although even seated, it didn’t give her an advantage, but she saw the way his brow furrowed, as she said, gently firm, “I’m not taking it off.”

She didn’t know if the look on his face was affection or exasperation. “Can’t you just agree with me on this?”

“No.”

“Makino―”

“If anyone asks, I’ll just say my husband is out working the fields,” she said. “What are they going to do, go out and check? Because I can ask one of the farmers to put up a scarecrow by one of the ploughs.”

Her stubborn levity made no headway, his hardened features untouched, but she didn’t give in, her chin lifted as she stared him down across the countertop.

Then with a sigh, “You’d at least have to pick a believable lie,” Shanks relented, after enduring a full thirty seconds of her eyes. His look softened a bit. “And make it a good-looking scarecrow.”

“It could be asleep at the plough,” Makino suggested. “If we’re going for accuracy.” Her smile trembled, before it fell when he didn’t return it.

It was hard to swallow past the knot in her throat, and she heard it in her voice when she said, “I’ll tell them you’re out fishing.”

“And if they stick around and I never come in?”

“I’ll tell them I hope the sea king didn’t get you?”

This time she couldn’t even attempt a smile, and when his expression still didn’t change, she said, without teasing, “Then I’ll tell them you’re in Goa Port picking up a shipment of spirits. You’re a barkeep, but it’s hard getting orders delivered here. It’s a long way to Goa, too. You’ll be gone until tomorrow, at the earliest.”

“And if they come back and I’m still not around?”

She might have made another suggestion, but recognised from the stubborn set of his jaw that he wasn’t backing down.

His face changed then, something like regret chasing across it, there before it was gone, and she didn’t understand why before Shanks said, with a heaviness that held an almost portentous note, “Say that you’re a widow.”

She was surprised by the forcefulness of her own reaction.

“No.”

He sighed. “Makino―”

“No,” she repeated, fiercely. “I won’t.”

She saw that she wasn’t the only one surprised by her reaction. And she didn’t even know why it hit her so hard. She couldn’t claim to be particularly superstitious. Her mother had been too practical for superstition, but she’d also respected the sea; they all did here, who lived their lives beside it. It was a more pragmatic relationship than a sailor might devote himself to, which often had an air of fancy about it, but even if they didn’t read omens from the sky or pray to any gods, there was an implicit understanding among them that you didn’t challenge those forces lightly. They were thankful for fair weather and a good catch, but they didn’t invoke the Fates here, or seek to challenge them.

But the man seated across the counter from her had the authority to do that; the one who’d carved a place for himself on a sea most never lived to sail, one of few who could claim the kind of power it took to challenge that old authority.

She wasn’t like him. She knew what was owed; a debt she’d been paying for twelve years, for wanting him. She didn’t want to invoke that word, the fate that was all too common for those who gave their hearts to sailors, in case she invoked prophecy along with it.

Putting away the glass, Makino pressed her palms over the polished countertop. She saw how they shook, and the still-new gleam of her wedding ring where it circled her finger, but then she hadn’t been wearing it long enough for it to get scratches.

She didn’t want that to be their marriage, taken off when the going got tough, forever keeping its shiny new exterior. She wanted it to show signs of wear, of work, and love―of actually being a marriage, and not just when it was convenient, or safe.

“I’m your wife,” she said gently, although the fervour behind it refused to bend against her own fears. “I want to be your wife, even if I’m here and you’re not―”

The words faltered on her tongue, but then there was a reason she’d been avoiding thinking about him leaving.

Shanks’ look softened, some of the tension in his brow yielding as he said, understanding, “The ring isn’t what makes you my wife.”

“I know that,” Makino said softly. Turning her hand, she gripped his fingers. He wore his ring now, but she knew he wouldn’t take the risk when he left. But she understood that, even if part of her rebelled against doing the same. “It’s not like I don’t understand where you’re coming from. I know it’s a risk. What I’m saying is that I’m willing to take it.” To be what she was, she’d accept the danger that came with it. That was her marriage vows. Not empty platitudes about sickness and health, only the simple, unembellished truth.

Shanks said nothing, his gaze on their hands, but the look in his eyes like he wasn’t seeing a ring but a shackle, and a different kind of prophecy than the one she feared.

She decided to try a different tactic.

“If pretending is what you want me to do, I could always get someone from Dadan’s family to stand in as my husband,” Makino said, and saw him look up, the slightest tightening at the corners of his eyes betraying his otherwise unreadable expression.

Turning his hand over between her own, she traced the sword-callouses in his palm, the softer pads of her fingers catching against the rougher skin. “Magra, maybe,” she continued, and watched the barest flex of his fingers. “I’ve heard he’s quite handy. We could tell people we met when he helped me carry a keg from the storeroom.” Lifting her eyes found him watching her, but she only met his gaze calmly, as she asked him, “What do you think? Would he make me a good stand-in husband?”

His eyes held hers, her gentle challenge noted, the look in them somewhere between knowing and warning, and this time it sent an entirely different kind of shiver racing up her spine.

Undeterred, she lowered her eyes to their hands, smoothing her thumb over his knuckles, pale under his sun-darkened skin. “Maybe he could help me out around the bar. To keep up appearances.”

Flicking her eyes up to his, she went in for the kill. “He could even stay in the guest room. Just to be safe.”

His whole look darkened, and her stomach did a thrilling little flip.

“Don’t like that idea, hmm?” she asked, and tried to pretend her voice didn’t shiver, but it was hard when he was looking at her like that. “Me with someone else.” She trailed her fingertips across the back of his hand, her own so small she couldn’t even cover half of it with all her fingers splayed. “A different man in my house.” A fleeting caress to his wrist felt the tendons in his forearm, pulled taut with a strain that left her feeling suddenly short of breath, even as she said, demure, “And my pantry.”

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, wife.”

The pitch of his voice had goosebumps pebbling her flesh, his naturally deep timbre touched with a note of warning that stirred something deep within her, although she couldn’t tell which was the fiercer feeling, desire or relief, finding her cheek finally parried with something other than that hard expression that couldn’t be coaxed into yielding, no matter how gentle her touches.

“Well,” Makino said, and even teasing, the sincerity was real when she told him softly, her small hand gripping his, mapped with the evidence of his life, their marriage included, “I don’t mind a little danger.”

Then, this time without teasing, “I married you,” she said, and didn’t care that her voice trembled now. She wasn’t hiding her feelings. “And I’ll be careful, but I won’t hide what I am, or pretend that I’m something else. Or someone else’s.”

Bearing the weight of his eyes, she didn’t shy away from them, or from the truth as she spoke it.

“I’m yours,” she told him, fiercely, and felt the way his hand tightened under hers. “And if they come here and they already know about me, nothing I say or do will change their minds. The ring won’t matter. And there are things I can’t hide that easily.”

She glanced towards the crib behind the counter; the one they’d fashioned out of an old barrel of their captain’s favourite whiskey. She’d found the gesture both characteristically inappropriate and undeniably perfect, but then she’d spent her first years sleeping in a liquor crate while her mother worked. And their child wasn’t just the son of a pirate; he was the son of a barmaid, too.

She saw Shanks’ gaze going to it, and the baby sleeping within. And it was more than her lack of protection that weighed on him, she knew, but as long as he was who he was, there would be a risk in being associated with him. Even retiring wouldn’t change what he’d been. Not in the eyes of the current Fleet Admiral, anyway.

And since it wasn’t something either of them could change, she was determined to make the best of the situation, but then she was good at that.

She thought it was time to remind him just how good.

It was still a little while before they were due to open, and smiling, “You could always help me practice my ruse,” Makino suggested, and saw his brows lifting, bemusement at what she had planned easing some of the tension from his features.

Leaning across the counter, she trailed her fingers along his wrist, following the contours of his arm, and the distracting tautness of corded muscle under her fingertips, “My husband isn’t here, officer,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes. “It’s just me: a very lonely barmaid with a very spacious pantry.”

Her face fell when he pinched his lips, before his grin shattered his whole composure, and, “Wait,” she said, drawing back to stutter, “That sounded better in my head. What I meant was that―”

A broad hand reached around the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss that stole what she’d been about to say, and muffling her startled laugh, although his own was quick to follow, deep and rough where it rose from his chest, the kiss breaking when he couldn’t contain his grin.

Drawing back enough to look at her, he sighed, rough fingers slipping from her neck to tuck her hair behind her ear. “God, you’re terrible at this,” Shanks said, with such a fierce affection, her heart constricted. “Completely unconvincing.”

Balancing on her toes, the edge of the counter dug into her ribs, but the discomfort was fleeting and unimportant. Her smile trembled on her mouth, inches from his, his beard brushing her jaw as she murmured, “I know.”

Closing her eyes, she kissed him softly, her hands cupping his face, no pretence this time, only the honest truth, offered with all of herself, the only way she knew how.

He’d moved before she could react, the kiss breaking only for a second, and she’d barely had time to catch her breath when his mouth claimed hers again, his arm wrapping around her as he pushed her back towards the storeroom, and the door where it sat ajar.

They stumbled over the doorstep, fumbling between sloppy kisses, like they were in that moment younger people with less to lose, her little laughing shriek muffled against his lips when he hoisted her up onto the shelf where her ledger lay open, and she couldn’t contain her giggles even as he shushed her through grinning kisses, knowing from experience how little it took to rouse a three-month old baby but unable to help herself, something wild and reckless pushing like wings against her ribcage, refusing to stay hidden, wanting out, fearless in its desire, and its will to claim it.

They hadn’t brought a lantern, and the light hadn’t reached this far into her bar, the storeroom cool and dark and the heavy shelves keeping her spirits and secrets, the crates digging into her back as he pinned her to them.

“This is very rakish behaviour for a married woman,” Shanks rumbled, releasing her from the kiss, her breath hitching when his hand wrapped around her thigh, pushing her skirt out of the way. “Someone might mistake you for a pirate.”

Makino hummed, finding her balance on the shelf, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck as she swung her legs, her boots and stockings impishly bared, and saw how it drew his eyes, before she eased them apart, her smile small and demure, and utterly unconvincing. “Imagine that.”

His eyes held her, his features darkened by the shadows of her pantry, making his scars look more pronounced, but the look beneath was gentle as Shanks touched his brow to hers. His thumb traced the hem of her stocking, and the glimpse of bare skin beneath her skirt where he’d pushed it up.

The feeling from before seized her, that fearless thing, like wings waiting under her skin. And maybe it was easy to be brave here, within the walls of her pantry where it felt like nothing could touch them, but even knowing differently didn’t change what she felt, as Makino told him, soft, “Ask me again.”

His look changed, a sudden intensity in it that made her glad she was sitting, but she didn’t look away, accepting the full weight of the truth behind it, unfearing of what it meant to be loved like that, and by someone like him.

Bending his head, his mouth covered hers firmly, stuttering her breath with a gasp, a command behind it that left her hands shaking where she’d curled them around his neck, and if she’d had any more clever remarks prepared about stand-in husbands or navy officers, they fled her mind now as she melted.

The big hand around her thigh tightened its grip, his wedding ring digging into her skin, as though he could imprint something that couldn’t be taken off or hidden, that was written on her skin, on her soul, and if she could have formed the words, she might have told him he already had, but they were lost when his hand slid up her thigh to part her legs, finding her with a shuddering breath that she felt in the way it left him.

And this was another unspoken language they’d made, communicated in touches―her legs parting to him in welcome, and his hand pausing, his fingers already half inside her, asking; her breath hitching as she lifted herself up to kiss him deeper, her hands threading through his hair as she gave herself, a silent affirmation that told him to take―no words needed as he entered her, carefully even if it had been months since their son, but she appreciated the restraint he showed, even with all of him unravelling under her hands, that iron-clad control included.

Her legs wrapping around his waist pulled him deeper, her gasp stuttering with a faint little plea as he filled her to her limit. And if she hoped he’d leave something in her it was a private thought, begged with her breaths as she took him inside her, each thrust a little harder, the bottles stirring in their crates as the shelf creaked, a steady rhythm growing in tandem with her gasps.

Her hands left his jaw, fumbling with the front of her stays as she slipped loose the little hooks until it popped open, and he was already reaching for her, his fingers a shock of warmth where they slipped past the low cut of her blouse to cup one of her breasts, tiny in his hand, his sword-calluses rough where he caressed it, and her shivering moan was well received, from the deeper groan that left him, as Shanks slowed his pace, touching her as he took her, until the shelves were rattling.

Bending down, he kissed her chest, his lips seeking the wide valley between her breasts, her flushed skin pearling with sweat. His beard scuffed her breast as he pulled it free, and she gasped, arching against the shelf as he curled his tongue around a painfully sensitive nipple, her lips parting over his name where it left her in a whimper.

He came like that, her skirt shoved up her hips and her silk stockings slipping down her legs, spread to him where she sat, the pages of her ledger crumpled and damp beneath her; the stereotype of the lascivious tavern wench, but she embraced it now, shockingly indulgent in her own lewdness, watching him as he finished with deep, pulsing shudders, a groan leaving him that had her toes curling in her boots.

His eyes slitted open, the grey steel muted, but even then his full attention was arresting; a single look enough to dismiss everything else in the world, as though she was the only thing in it.

She watched as they swept across her, her breasts bared to the air and her thighs spread, his cock still inside her, but she didn’t squirm or try to hide, only allowed him to see.

Bending forward, Shanks kissed the parting of her hair, his breath winded as he leaned some of his weight on her. His knuckles brushed her cheek, catching the tears that had spilled over without her notice. His ring was cool against her skin; wrapping around the back of her neck, she felt how they shook.

Carding her fingers through his hair, she felt him exhale, but he didn’t let her go, just held her like that, the protective frame of his body between her and the door, hiding her from view, and nothing could have touched her there, in that moment.

His fingers trailed down the dip between her shoulder blades. Her blouse clung to her skin, the air within the storeroom damp and smelling of them, but she couldn’t even worry that someone would stumble across them, although had enough presence of mind to think that she should probably fix herself up before their first customers arrived, but was distracted by the deep chuckle that left him, and his voice where it rumbled into her skin,

“Where’s your husband now, barmaid?”

Her laugh trembled, and her arms tightened around his neck, pulling him closer and pressing her nose into the hollow of his throat. She loved him like this, freed of worry, if only for a little while. And that was her power; the only one she could claim, but it wasn’t a small thing in this age, to command peace.

And she knew how he expected her to react, because he knew her better than anyone, and never let an opportunity to make her flustered pass him by.

But she knew him, too, and like him, she knew exactly how to nudge him off balance. Which was why she said, demure as anything, “He’s ploughing his wife.”

She felt the hand on her neck pausing, the slight stiffening in him betraying his surprise, before his shoulders convulsed, as Shanks bent forward with a laugh.

The sound filled her, loud and lovely, but a softness about it that was hers, that tender, half-winded thing. She thought the whole village had to hear it, and that it would wake the baby, but she didn’t care, her own laughter helpless, hearing his, and feeling the way his arm tightened around her, which said more than any other gesture or word, even as Shanks murmured roughly, “I love you.”

Cupping his face with her hands, she pressed her forehead against his. “It will be okay,” Makino said, and didn’t care that she couldn’t make that promise; that there were other forces that wanted their say. But she wouldn’t hide from her choices, and him least of all. “You’ll see.”

Shanks said nothing, only held her, but he didn’t disagree this time, which she counted as a small victory, and it was what gave her the courage to quip, “And if anyone asks, I’ll tell them my husband can’t be held down. His heart belongs to the sea. It’s just the way things are, in this day and age.”

His eyes found hers. In the dim light, they looked darker, but she knew the look in them, and like the laugh, that was hers, too. “I thought we agreed that we were going for accuracy,” Shanks said. A tender smile curved his mouth, as he told her roughly, “And that you’re a terrible liar.”

Her grin couldn’t be contained, splitting her face, wide and without shame, and his.

The sound of the bat-wing doors swinging open reached them, followed by their first customers arriving, and her grin fell as horror widened her eyes, before she scrambled to pull her stays closed.

A voice from the bar drifted through the door―“Huh? Where’s Makino-chan?”

“That’s odd,” said another, as her mortification deepened, recognising one of her mother’s oldest patrons; a man who’d seen her toddle around in diapers. “Red-Hair’s not here, either. They’re usually open by now.”

Shanks’ grin grew, and she saw the punishment for her disobedience in the gleam in his eyes, and hissed, “Shanks, no―”

But she wasn’t quick enough, as he turned his head towards to call out, “She’s coming! Or she will be.” And before her horror could fully sink in, added brightly, “Just give me a few minutes to finish; I want to make sure she does.”

Her hands clapping over his mouth didn’t succeed in muffling his laughter, but then even her embarrassment couldn’t hold out against the grin that split his face now, which held no trace of his earlier seriousness, as he nipped and kissed her fingers until her mortification dissolved with her laughter.

When they emerged a few minutes later, after she’d blankly refused to let him get her off first (although had agreed to revisiting it after closing), it was to find their regulars waiting, knowing looks exchanged above poorly-stifled grins as she with every ounce of prim dignity she possessed asked them if they wanted their usual, all the while ignoring Shanks’ eyes following her as she made her way between the tables. Although having taken their orders, she caught the fond murmur as she made for the bar―

“Married life suits her, doesn’t it?”

“Aye, it does. Shame Em ain’t here to see it.”

Her smile ruined her prim composure, but she claimed it for herself, and kept her chin high as she walked to the bar where Shanks was waiting, leaning back against the kegs.

“What?” he asked, when she reached him, lifting up on her toes to steal a kiss; not something she usually did, shy about public displays, unlike him, and relished in his surprise at her brazenness, shaping his grin, a gentler thing than in the storeroom earlier.

Her own smile was small, as she lowered back on her heels, her head tipped back to look up at him, noting the dish-towel slung over his shoulder, a different kind of captain, with no sea underfoot, but a captain still.

“Nothing,” Makino said, before reciting, “One egg over easy, and―”

“―one sunny-side up, hash browns on the side of both, and a single serving of bacon, because old man Nakamura is watching his cholesterol.”

At her look of surprise, he only smiled, and bent his head to kiss her once, before he made for the kitchen, a grin thrown over his shoulder, leaving her staring after him, and wondering how he could have ever expected her to pretend to be the person she’d been before him.

The doors swinging open drew her gaze to his crew, and her smile blossomed as they greeted her, loudly and cheerfully. And there was no doubt in their minds what she was, catching their cheeky bows and tipped hats, but she didn’t shy from their reverence where it named her, and more clearly than any ring or vow.

“Hey, where’s that husband of yours?” Yasopp asked her, when she appeared at their table to take their orders. Someone had given him the baby, awake and peering up at all the faces around him. Yasopp made a face at him, and when he got a gummy little smile, asked him in a sing-song voice, “What’s his name again?”

“Keeps slipping my mind,” Ben agreed, grinning around his toothpick.

“Wait, who are we talking about?”

“Makino’s husband.”

“Oh, right! That guy.”

The others joined in, feigning forgetfulness, their laughter growing in volume, until there was nothing left of the quiet morning, dissolving like the sea mist as the sun claimed its seat in the sky.

Her playful look warned them, although her smile indulged their cheeky insubordination, knowing well just how far it was from the truth. Because she could imagine their reactions to the suggestion, however teasingly made, about a stand-in husband in their captain’s absence, endearingly protective, and not just of her. She would spare poor Magra that.

“He’s here,” Makino said, and heard in the words the fleeting truth, but didn’t care if she wouldn’t be able to say the same a month from now, or two. He’d be home again soon, with the tide. They all would.

Emerging from the kitchen, Shanks took one look at the room and stopped, a different kind of concern furrowing his brow now as every grin within turned towards him. “What did I miss?”

Coming over to where she was standing, he put the tray he was carrying on the table. The look he gave her said he had his suspicions, and that her innocent smile was fooling no one.

Then a gleam entered his eyes, and Makino knew she was in trouble even before he chirped, “Did you tell them about your plan to get a stand-in husband in my absence?”

Their grins fell, and Makino closed her eyes.

Poor Magra.

“A what?!”

.

.

.

She didn’t get a stand-in, but she didn’t take the ring off, either―a small act of rebellion, but it was the only thing she could do in opposition to the system that governed their world, and the laws that would punish her for her choices. And maybe there was a little pride there, too, but then loving him was her greatest crime, and she’d accept all charges against her, pleading guilty to whatever court would see her put on trial, mortal or otherwise. Those were her wedding vows, too; the ones she hadn’t spoken aloud to him.

Her bar saw the occasional new visitor, on their way to Goa or further still, who’d seen the lights from afar and decided to have a look, but there was only one who asked about the ring, and who didn’t bat an eye when she told him her husband was currently across the island signing off on a shipment. He’d only remarked positively on their bar, and said that no tavern in Goa Port he’d been to had been as hospitable.

(She hadn’t questioned his manners, unfailingly good, almost military-like; hadn’t looked closely enough at the set of his shoulders, that proud bearing she’d known since childhood, from the grizzled marine who’d ruffle her hair until her kerchief sat askew and who’d sneak her gifts behind her mother’s back.)

Garp would have seen through him, she would realise later, but she’d been so busy trying to keep up appearances, she’d forgotten to question if her visitor was doing the same.

She was getting ready to open―had just finished lifting the chairs off the tables and had gone into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee when she remembered it wasn’t necessary, and had instead gone to wring out the rag to wipe down the counter when she heard the bat-wing doors swinging inwards.

Ace was asleep in his crib, safe under the counter behind the curtain she’d pulled closed, and she didn’t pause at her early visitor, as emerging from the kitchen, she called out, forgetting for a moment that she was alone, the we invoked so easily, even weeks after he’d left, “I’m sorry, but we’re not open yet―”

The words cut off, as she came to a halt.

She could smell the cigar smoke from across the room, the butt smouldering like the embers in her hearth, an almost unnatural glow in its burning eye where it fastened on her like a brand.

The white coat was the first thing she noticed, but she would have recognised him even out of uniform, the straight shoulders and the flower tattoo peeking out from under his shirt, the garishly patterned kind that reminded her of Garp, but that was where their similarities ended.

He was flanked by two officers, their caps pulled low over their brows, but she recognised the one on the left, dark-haired and dimpled and refusing to meet her eyes, his hands white-knuckled around the rifle he was holding. He’d loved her cooking so much he’d asked for a fourth helping; had said it reminded him of his sister’s, who he hadn’t seen in years.

The Fleet Admiral took her in, a single sweep of his eyes across her announcing his feelings, something far more personal than simple contempt in the furrow of his brow. Judge, jury, and executioner; he’d already decided her charges, and what her punishment would be, for the choices she’d made. The only crime she’d committed, but for a man like him, it was enough.

And she’d been right. In the end, the ring hadn’t mattered.

“Arrest her.”

#Shanks x Makino #Shanks/Makino #Shanks #Red-Haired Shanks #Akagami no Shanks #Red-Haired Shanks x Makino #Makino #One Piece #One Piece fanfiction #opfanfic #fanfiction #mungoe writes #Shanties for the Weary Voyager #sharing snippets of my WIPs helps me feel like I'm being productive #this story isn't meant to be very long mind #(and I know - famous last words haha) #but I'm hoping this might pique someone's interest!

[makesometime]

Today I come to you and humbly request some 18 month time skip Zoscar headcanons

-🦎

(using that as my signature from now on, but I'm the same anon who's been sending you a bunch of hc asks lately 🙃)

Hello 🦎!!

I think that a few of these might not align with canon but they align with my heart and isn't that enough?

(this got longer than I intended it to but I have a lot of feelings, apparently)

The team

Wilde, Barnes, Carter and Zolf travelled to Japan together. In that time, it became clear that the teams that worked best with one another were Zolf and Wilde and Barnes and Carter.

However, they still worked as varying combinations up until Wilde's incident, which I think happened relatively early and signalled a turning point for all four of them. I think Wilde used to go on missions - scouting, info gathering, etc. - relatively frequently before he was hurt. They couldn't afford not to have him on the front lines. But after, he was physically and emotionally scarred, and saw his strength being in admin, not action, especially without his magic.

Wilde's scar was given to him by someone he trusted and he had to work hard not to shut the other three out as he healed from that betrayal. It was a very very long process for him, but he found that easier to do with Zolf, because Zolf didn't coddle him, just made sure he healed, made him look after himself. Enforced self care.

The scar

Post scar, Wilde’s way of dealing was to throw himself into work, so the only times he’d leave his office would be to eat with the team or check in on their training.

He and Carter would sit under the overhang at the edge of the inn, safe from the rain, and watch Zolf and Barnes spar - each focused on a different man, but for the same reason.

Wilde found a great fondness for sitting in the kitchen while Zolf made dinner, watching the way he grew into his skills, taste testing and doing a little paperwork before dinner.

The familiarity

Having said all this, Wilde grew warmer, not colder, as time went on. This is very important to me, because Zolf knows he can be warm and is soft with him and encouraging when Azu and Hamid arrive. They know each other so well by that point, in a way that can only have come through spending time together, through arguments and teasing and banter and friendship. It's very important to me that they're friends.

I think that Wilde still had his bad days though. They all did. And on those days Zolf would take dinner to his office and sit with him, and talk to him, and help him get out of his head. Or, if Wilde was in a foul mood, he'd sit across the room and study dwarves and the weather until Wilde wanted to talk, if he did at all. If he didn’t, that was okay too.

Wilde would withdraw every time he thought about the fact that Zolf was going to have to go to Shoin's eventually. He had to reconcile that his presence would harm more than help, but that Barnes and Carter would keep Zolf safe. Probably. Hopefully. Gods, he was relieved when Hamid and Azu arrived and he got the intelligence about Cel. At least he'd have a backup team in Barnes and Carter to rescue them(him) if everything went wrong.

The bond

I think Wilde fell for Zolf quietly and over a long period of time. I wholeheartedly believe he was in love with Zolf (and knew it) long before Hamid and Azu turned up. For Zolf, I think he realised he cared what happened to Wilde much sooner than he factored in that his emotions about the man ran deeper. Whether he got there in Japan or not… I'm not sure. I fluctuate on that a bit.

I think Zolf realised he was putting more effort into things like meals to get Wilde to smile. Spending ages to get the flavour just right and Carter teasing him about it and it just not connecting in his brain why he's putting this extra time in. And then Wilde smiles at the scent of dinner and he smiles, and his heart aches a little less.

Zolf and Wilde would both have atrocious dreams, even with Wilde’s shackles and Zolf’s new faith. This led to them spending a lot of the wee small hours in each other's company, falling asleep in each other's beds and not mentioning it in the morning - sneaking out, even, and smiling when realising how ridiculous that was.

Zolf introduced Wilde to Campbell novels during quarantine, when there was nothing else to read. Wilde insisted he didn’t like them, and was annoyed at how good they are. The perfect pulpy racy nonsense to get you through seven days in a cell.

Them

Their bond, whether romantic or not, is forged through hardship but also through actually having the time to get to know one another. It’s slow, but that only makes their resulting relationship stronger. They’re truly, as Ben and Alex said, the only ones that can weather each other’s bullshit and that gets me so good.

As much as I enjoy writing them in an established relationship in Japan and will definitely continue to do so, I do think it works nicer if they were holding off on getting together until the airship literally forced their hand. Just for the sheer emotion of it all.

#rqg #zoscar #zolf smith #rqg oscar wilde #thank you for the chance to ramble like this anon #as always ymmv all headcanons are valid and welcome in this house #🦎 anon

[just-a-creep-babe]

Hello, I am here with a request if that is ok, I was thinking about how would Eyeless jack, BEN Drowned, and our three favourite proxies react to an S/O who is very quiet and shy yet out of no where she defends herself easily out in the woods by herself without even knowing her lover was there, then when they ask her about how she did it she says that she got it from watching them

Oki poki so I’m not sure if this is what you wanted, but I hope it’s ok!! Also I changed like,,, the verb tense (is that even what you call it? Idk skdhdkdjdk) but I changed it a couple times n ahhhh I just don’t know, it might read kinda weird, I sowey 🥺👉👈 But I hope you enjoy nonetheless!!

~Requests are closed~

Masterlist: x

BEN Drowned

“Woah”

Is that his s/o he just witnessed??

His adorable little reserved s/o that just beat the crap out of some rando who was bugging her?

Boy’s absolutely amazed

He jumps out of her phone & immediately has a ~shit ton~ of questions because he’s blown away 

“Are you ok? Did he hurt you!? Holy shit, that was sick, (y/n)! Where’d you learn to do that?!”

When she explains herself, he honestly gets kinda flustered & bashful

But then his regular shit-eating grin returns and he tries to play it off like it’s nothing

“Of course you got it from me, I’m pretty badass” he scoffs

Honestly though, he’s super flattered & honored and just??

Like wowie, he doesn’t know what he did to deserve such an amazing s/o

A very proud ghost bf uwu

Eyeless Jack

Boy was following her scent through the forest so they could meet up & hang out

And, having lived in the mansion for quite some time now, he’s grown to be pretty unfazed by all manners of things that happen around him

But he really wasn’t expecting to stumble in on his shy little s/o pressing her foot into someone’s neck on the ground

And then she gives what sounds like a warning before letting them go, and the stranger scrambles off into the woods

His first instinct is to immediately race over & check her for any injuries—and he’s bIG TIME relieved when it turns out she’s fine

When she finally explains herself after, like, the 12th time of reassuring him she’s fine skdjdkl, his black heart swells with pride

He’s pretty stoic, so it’s hard to read what he’s feeling, but his protective instincts definitely have him sticking closer around her for the rest of the night

And later that evening, when he thinks back to what happened, he gets mad at himself for not being better for his little mate

He knows he can’t actually be there for her 24/7, but he wants to try to put in more effort to assure her overall safety

He’s super proud she defended herself this time, but what if the next creep is much stronger??

The whole thing just makes him stalk follow her around a lot more tbh, even when she might not realize it

He also starts second-guessing himself a lot more than he already did

Is he a bad influence? If she gets used to seeing his eating/hunting habits, will it affect her in the long run?

Boy ends up with lots of existential questions, and she has to reassure him a lot tbh :/

But honestly, homeboy should know by now that she doesn’t want a normal life if it means not being with him uwu

Masky

He sees his s/o pining someone down, and for a split second, he almost gets the wrong idea

Maybe she isn’t who he thinks she is—maybe she’s a lot more brazen and open and… unashamed

But then he realizes that she isn’t, in fact, cheating on him or anything like that, and he’s immediately ashamed of ever even thinking she’d betray him like that

He walks up to them and he is pissed

The stranger doesn’t stand a chance

After he deals with them, he pulls her impossibly close to him and asks a million questions all too suddenly

“Who was that? Where did they come from? How long have they been following you? How did you learn to do that?”

When she explains, he gets quiet for a moment, and again, because of the mask, it’s kinda be hard to tell what he’s thinking

It’s almost,, kinda scary ngl

But he just gets that way because he’s crazy worried for her

And he’s super proud she could defend herself, but he understands the risks of fighting almost better than anyone else

So he definitely wants to teach her more about self-defence—while also lowkey feeling soft that she originally learned from him without him even teaching her in the first place

He honestly feels kinda bad for not teaching her sooner—oop

Overall starts being more protective of her too, while also seeing her in a new light

Guess his cute little s/o is actually pretty damn badass, huh?

Hoodie

He‘d be trying to find his s/o when he hears someone else in the forest

So naturally, he decides to check it out

And when he sees his s/o kicking the shit out of some shady person, he gets this huge grin tugging at his lips because damn, that’s my babe

Like he’s pretty amused ngl skdjdjsls

He sticks around in the shadows for a while, watching until the creep eventually scrambles away with their tail between their legs

And then he sneaks up behind her & wraps his arms around her to nuzzle into her neck

Almost earning a punch to the gut but, c’mon, what’d he expect? Skdjdkl

When she tells him what happened & how she knew what to do, he offers teaching her more right away

Will arrange plenty of training/workout sessions, no further questions asked

He’s probably the most chill about what he saw tbh

Like he knows quiet people have it in them to be scary, being quiet himself, so it isn’t much of a cause for concern

And he doesn’t stress over it because, hey, they managed to beat them up, so she’s probably already stronger & better at fighting than most

Sprinkle in some extra prep & tips from a skilled stalker/killer?

Whew, boy knows his precious little s/o will become a force to be reckoned with

And he’s damn proud of it, too

Ticci Toby

Boy sees shit going down & immediately rushes over to knock the other person tf out

He acts on impulse cause not only is that what he’s used to doing—but also how dare someone even think of harming his perfectly adorable little s/o??

He has to stop himself from chopping them up right then & there

The only thing stopping him is his s/o, who he doesn’t wanna end up traumatizing :/

Like BEN and EJ, he asks a shit ton of questions while frantically looking her over for any kind of injuries

“Oh my f-fucking God, are you alright?! What ha—what happened?! Jesus, (y/n), y-you know I love you—I love you so fucking much, right!? Holy shit, you—you fucking kicked ass!!”

She earns the biggest bone-crushing hug ever combined with an excited squee! when she explains where she learned moves like that

He’s so damn proud that he has to resist smothering her in countless bouts of affection

Definitely finds some kind of way to celebrate later on that evening :3

And it’s only after his initial rush of joy that he realizes it could’ve ended badly

He’s lost a lot of people throughout his life & he doesn’t want the same thing happening to his s/o, so he’d ask around for advice on how to protect them better

He ends up teaching them more self defence stuff while also watching them a lil more closely too

But he’s sO damn proud, it honestly gives him a happy high for a good few days ngl <33

It’s like he’s your hero!!

The thought alone motivates him to keep treating you better because you really are one in a million uwu

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #Ben drowned #eyeless Jack #Masky #hoodie #Ticci Toby

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidentally Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 6 | Having a bit too fun with our charming Captain America?

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: As Molly and Chris become friends, Tom becomes jealous and makes a terrible mistake. 

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

-

Tom came home carrying an enormous bouquet of lilies and roses he purchased on the way home. He bubbled with anxiety and excitement. His talk with Benedict had done him wonders. Until he opened the door to an empty house. He called out for Molly a few times but got no response. There was also no note. He slumped in a kitchen chair. His phone buzzed.

I’m on my way home. Sorry I didn’t leave a note. Hope you aren’t worried. I promise I’m fine!

Tom smiled at the message. He didn’t know why, but something gnawed at the back of his mind. He scrambled to his feet as he overheard the door opening.

“Tom?” Molly yelled into the house.

“In the kitchen, darling!” He fidgeted with the flowers behind his back. As he stared at the floor, a wide grin grew on his face.

“Molly, I…” His face fell as Evans walked in behind Molly.

“Look who stopped by and took me to lunch!” Molly squeaked.

Chris slung an arm over Molly’s shoulders. Tom’s fist clenched around the flowers behind his back.

“I hope you don’t mind me stealing your girl, Tom.” Chris smirked. “She said you were out to lunch with Benedict.”

“Not at all, Chris.” Tom lied. “I’m glad you could keep my wife company.”

“Pleasure was all mine, pal. She is,” Chris gazed down at Molly with a look that made Tom want to leap across the kitchen counter and strangle Chris. “a pretty special girl.”

“Chris!” Molly smacked his hand. “You are too kind. Thank you for a lovely lunch.” She squeezed his torso.

“And don’t forget about tomorrow. We will find decent margaritas in this city if it kills us.”

“You’re on. But you know I have discerning taste when it comes to my liquor.”

“That makes two of us.”

Molly and Chris giggled. “Let me show you out, Chris.” Tom offered.

Molly smiled over at Tom and noticed his hand behind his back.

“What’s that, darling?”

“What?” Tom’s brows knitted.

“Behind your back.” Molly strolled towards him and peeked around Tom. “Are those for me?”

Tom pulled the flowers out. “They are. I thought you might want them to brighten up the house.”

Molly gasped at the beautiful arrangement. “They are stunning, love.” She wrapped an arm around Tom’s neck and pecked his lips. “Thank you. I love them.”

Tom leaned down for another kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth when Molly sighed.

Chris cleared his throat and hooked his thumb towards the front of the house.

“I’ll just see myself out.”

Molly pulled back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Tom trailed kisses down her neck, tickling her skin. She giggled as Chris waved and walked away.

“What has gotten into you?” she teased as she pushed Tom back.

“Just selling the relationship. We are newly married.” Tom commented, kissing her cheek.

“Oh.”

Tom’s answer disappointed Molly. Somewhere deep inside, that place she never admits to having Molly wanted Tom to want her for more than just a PR stunt. She wanted him to love her as much as he pretended to. But it seemed clear Tom was content on keeping things professional.

“That is the plan, after all?”

“Yeah.” Molly shook her head. “So how was lunch with Ben?”

“Good. You’re going out with Chris again?” Tom’s heart sank further down as he shelved plans to tell Molly how he felt. Evans ruined that.

“He is staying in town for a few days and with you doing auditions and meetings tomorrow, Chris thought I could use some company.” She went to grab a vase for the flowers.

“I bet he did.” Tom muttered.

“What’s that?” Molly twisted her head around.

“I said how nice of him.”

Molly smiled. “It is. He is so funny too! The stories he tells.”

Tom inhaled sharply. “Think you can pry yourself from the Captain to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?”

“Anything for you.” She cupped his cheek. “Now what would you like for dinner tonight?”

“Whatever you would like, love. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

Molly marched over to him and placed the back of her hand on his forehead. “That is the second time you have said something like that. Are you sure you’re not sick?”

Tom pulled back. “I’m fine. There’s no need to fuss.”

Molly pursed her lips. “After you drove me to urgent care, filled my prescriptions, let me sleep in your bed, and took care of my every need for three days, you can bet your sweet ass I’m fussing.” She touched his forehead again. “Hmm. I can’t tell if you have a fever. Go lie down in the living room and I’ll bring you dinner.”

“But I…”

“Go!” She jabbed a finger at the door. “I will not have you getting sick on my hands.”

Tom held up his hands in defeat. “Yes, ma’am.”

Molly came in with a steaming bowl of a beef stew she whipped up with leftovers in the fridge and on the side some thick slices of a crusty bread she picked up a few days ago. A heavy slash of butter on top. She arranged it on a tray for Tom.

“Arms and knees up.” she commanded. Tom complied, tucking up his knees. Molly set down the tray and then settled into the spot once occupied by Tom’s feet. “Eat up.”

Tom blew onto a spoonful before taking a bite. He moaned as he swallowed. “That is exquisite, Molly. What is it?”

“Leftover stew.” Molly took a bite herself.

“You made this with the leftovers?”

“You learn to get creative with the spice cabinet.”

“Foster care?” Tom asked quietly, teeth crunching through the crust of the bread.

“College. Financial aid only goes so far. I couldn’t let food go to waste. I became famous or rather infamous in the dorm freshman year with what I could with a microwave. A modern witch, they called me.”

“You have certainly bewitched me, darling.” Tom commented without thinking. “With your cooking.” he covered. “You are a genius in that kitchen. I will have to learn some of the recipes before year’s end.”

Molly gazed up at him, pained. He was already talking about when all of this was over. Tom quickly changed the subject.

“Tell more about college. I imagine it was rather different from my experience.” Tom ate another spoonful of stew, warming his insides.

“Where did you matriculate?” Molly teased in a haughty tone.

“Cambridge.”

She let loose a low whistle. “You really are Mr. Fancy Pants.”

“With a degree in Classics.”

Molly giggled. “And I thought a tourism degree was useless.”

“Enough about me. I’m boring. Tell me about you.”

-

They talked about college, about how hard summers were when the dorms closed and Molly would couch surf while working summer jobs.

“I had amazing friends.” she whispered. “I am forever in their debt.”

Tom reached over and pulled her to his chest. “I am so sorry you had to go through that.”

“I’m not.” She snuggled against him. “Our experiences make us who we are. The good and the bad. I would have preferred an easier life. I would prefer not to freeze every time someone raises their voice, but that’s not me.” she sighed and the tears fell onto Tom’s shirt.

Tom smoothed down Molly’s hair. “I’m sorry to upset you. Let’s talk about happy things.”

“What are those?” she chuckled softly.

“How about this?” He stared down at her tucked under the crook of his arm. “Tell me about some of the craziest things you’ve seen as a bartender in Vegas?”

Molly laughed. “How about the one about the guy who peed on a blackjack table?”

“This I must hear.” Tom chuckled.

-

Tom woke up on the couch that next morning. Molly’s messy bun tickling his chin.

“Molly…” He groaned as he sat up. “… I have to get up, darling.”

Molly burrowed deeper into Tom’s chest and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her. He kissed her temple. She hummed and sighed. Tom’s stomach clenched.

“Time to wake up. I need to shower.”

She slowly woke and stared at Tom, realizing the compromising position of their bodies. Molly scrambled away, blushing.

“So sorry.” She sat up. “I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

Tom cleared his throat. “I still have time.” Tom sat up and fiddled his hands in his lap. “You could always come with me. We could grab some lunch. You can see all of my ‘hard work’.” Tom gazed at her hopefully.

“I…” Molly pondered the offer. “can’t. I would only be in the way. And I have plans with Chris.”

“Chris, right.” Tom stood abruptly. “We wouldn’t want you to miss that.”

Molly gave a strained smile. “I already committed. But we are still having dinner?”

“Dinner, indeed. I’ll meet you at the restaurant at 6:30 p.m.”

Molly stood and hugged him. “I’ll be there with bells on.”

-

There was a knock on the door exactly when Chris said he would come by. Molly opened the door to find Chris leaned against the frame in jeans and a henley. A devastating combination.

“Hey babe, I have an Uber and a list of five Mexican restaurants with great promise. Ready to find the perfect margarita?”

“I am.” She stepped out with a smile. Chris slung his arm over her shoulder. Molly leaned in for a bit. Just long enough for a camera to click.

-

“That first place was awful!” Molly howled in the back of the Uber as they made their way to the next place.

Chris laughed next to her. “I never knew they could make tortillas out of rubber.”

Molly’s phone buzzed. It was Luke. She switched off the phone.

“Anything important?” Chris leaned over to glance at the screen.

“Just Luke. Tom’s publicist. It is probably just something about an upcoming event. I’ll ring him back later.” Molly shrugged before tucking the phone back into her purse. “Now an important question.”

“Which is?”

“Strawberry or Lime?”

“Lime all the way.”

“A purist, I like that.”

Chris burst into laughter.

-

Tom struggled against his sour disposition through most of his auditions and lunch. It wasn’t until he got to the restaurant for dinner Tom listened to Luke’s voicemail. Which led him to googling himself for the first time in years.

“Fuck!” He hissed louder than he wanted to, drawing the attention of a nearby couple. He forced a smile and gave a small wave.

Molly slipped into the chair. “Sorry, I’m a bit late. I lost track of time and then traffic.”

Tom’s fists clenched. “Having a bit too fun with our charming Captain America?” He spit at her.

Molly blinked at him. “What do you mean by that? I was with Chris. He seems like a nice guy.”

“And you are such a friendly girl.” Tom continued to speak in a clipped tone.

“Tom, what’s wrong?” She reached out for Tom’s hand, but he pulled it back.

“This is what’s wrong.” Tom slid his phone over to her.

Molly scrolled through the pictures with increasing horror. The headlines read: Hiddleston Marriage on the Rocks? Tom’s New Bride Steps Out with Captain America Himself.

“I… I…” Molly sputtered, handing the phone back. Hot tears hit her cheeks.

Tom threw his napkin down. “We’re leaving. Keep a smile on as we leave and when we get home. No need to give the paparazzi more fodder.”

Molly stood in a daze and Tom snatched her elbow roughly to lead her out of the restaurant. As they walked outside, Tom leaned in.

“Wrap your arm around my waist and laugh like I said something funny.”

Molly snaked her arm around him and Tom pulled her tight against him. They both threw their heads back in laughter until they got into the taxi, where Tom’s expression fell into a cold mask.

Molly sniffled with stifled sobs the entire way home. Tom took no effort to sooth her. He was… cold and detached. They repeated the charade from the restaurant up the stairs to the front door. Tom had to hold back from slamming the door.

“How could you have been so stupid?!” Tom hissed, slamming his keys onto the table.

“Don’t call me stupid. I was just going out with a friend.”

“A handsome movie star!”

“Not unlike my husband! In fact, Chris called you a close friend.” Molly raised her voice.

“He would say anything to take you from me!” Tom yelled.

Molly froze and her head dropped, shoulders hunching forward. “Please don’t yell at me.”

“How else am I to make you understand, Molly?!” Tom continued to shout like someone crazed. He gestured wildly in the air. “You are forbidden to see him.”

“I want out.” Molly sobbed.

“What?” Tom snapped out of it. He glanced at Molly, only to see the damage he had done. Molly was all but curled in on herself. She sobbed freely, shoulders shaking. “Molly, I…”

“Don’t touch me.” She turned from his hand, reaching out to her. “Why is Chris different from your sister?”

“Because Emma isn’t trying to steal you from me.”

Molly chuckled. “You’re fucking jealous?! How rich! Chris is a nice guy! I used to say the same about you. I used to…” her voice trailed off.

“Used to what?” Tom sniped, tears of anger and hurt filling his own eyes. “Take pity on me? Poor Tom with shit taste in women?! Has to pay a girl to pretend to be his wife for the papers?!”

Molly reared back and slapped him. Tom held his cheek.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Molly screeched. “I’m leaving. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back.”

“Molly, please…” Tom begged.

“Fuck off, Tom!” Molly pushed past him. “I thought we were…” she sobbed. “But I guess not. It’s my own fucking fault.”

“What’s your fault, Molly?” Tom asked. “What’s your fault?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Molly cried, defeated. “I was clearly wrong about you.”

“Wrong how?” Tom’s heart shattered as she walked away, returning with a small bag.

“Goodbye, Tom. Don’t worry, I’ll be discrete. Wouldn’t want to tarnish your good guy image?” she sneered before heading to the door.

“Where will you go?” Tom grew more desperate as the reality of his actions set in.

“Away from you. Other than that, I don’t much care.” The front door slammed behind her.

Tom collapsed onto the couch and his head fell into his hands. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. FUCK!” he screamed into the void of his empty house.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston angst #accidently married

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 61

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 2,591

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

Taking Care of Business

You were in shock and at a loss for words, while Amber’s impatient expression as she stared you down meant that she obviously expected you to say something. When it became apparent that you weren’t going to kickstart this lovely conversation, she gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes before breaking the silence with a haughty voice that instantly grated on your nerves.

“Well, are you going to let me in, or what?”

Your subconscious gave a resounding scream of ‘fuck off!’ and hissed at Amber, while your brain warned to proceed with caution. The last thing you wanted right now was a fight, but it wasn’t clear which path led to a worse confrontation: letting her in or telling her to leave. Deciding to attempt civility, you clamped down the words ‘I’d really rather not’ that were on the tip of your tongue, and instead gave a small nod and stood back from the doorway to let her in. The sickly sweet smell of flowers hit when she passed by, and you had the incredibly random thought of where the fuck does she get perfume in an apocalypse? 

Ignoring the unimportant question, you watched as she glanced around your room, eyes flickering over the small bed, the wooden chair piled with clothes, and then the stack of old rickety crates holding your belongings. Her face scrunched up in utter disdain of the meager surroundings, solidifying what Ben had once said about her coming from a privileged background before the apocalypse. Her room upstairs probably had all kinds of fancy furniture and clothes. You wanted to feel annoyed, even a bit ashamed, but then remembered whose bed you were now spending the night in and immediately lost all sense of self-consciousness. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter what material possessions she might own, because you had Negan and she didn’t. No matter how this conversation went, that fact wasn’t going to change, and nothing she said was going to ruin your newfound happiness. You were still nervous and feeling a bit cagey being in the same room as the woman who was far from your biggest fan, but the security of knowing where you and Negan stood with one another helped you to keep calm and project an air of indifference. 

However, you still didn’t want to play this too arrogantly, and decided not to close the door the entire way, pushing it so that there was still a centimeter of space keeping it unlatched. The crack was small enough for her to not have noticed, and gave you that extra padding of reassurance. You didn’t trust her one bit, and wanted an easier exit, if necessary, or a way to hopefully be heard if you yelled for help. Not that you were too worried about a physical confrontation; you looked up and down her petite, small frame and thought, you can take her if you have to. The subconscious gave an aggressive yell of agreement and stared Amber down with laser-like focus. 

Not wanting to make any assumptions, you decided to stand there silently and wait her out. It didn’t take long, as she abruptly turned to you with a sneer and said, “I bet you’re feeling mighty proud of yourself right about now.”

Well then, guess we’re going with no pretense or attempt at subtlety. Raising your brows in surprise, you honestly replied, “I’m not sure I know what you mean.” You were certain this had to do with Negan, but weren’t sure if it was in regards to the last few weeks, if she had heard about the scene in the cafeteria, or, perhaps, it was something else entirely.

She narrowed her eyes at you and practically hissed, “Don’t play stupid with me. I know that you’re the one who convinced him to throw us all out.” 

You couldn’t hide the look of utter surprise at her words. Had Negan said something to the wives today? But when?! You had seen him off on the run to the outpost this morning, and there had only been perhaps a 20 minute space of time from when his men had sat down for dinner and he himself had entered the cafeteria. Had he spent that small chunk of time talking to his wives?

Apparently so, as Amber confirmed a few seconds later. 

“I can’t believe he would just march in there and tell us, tell me, that we’re not needed anymore.” She scoffed, as if the idea was laughable. “And I bet it was your idea that we lose our rooms too, right? You couldn’t even let us stay where we were, let us be on the same floor as him. No, you somehow convinced him to kick us out, and tell us we’re to ‘reintegrate into the community’. What the fuck!” 

She had used her fingers in air quotes around the reintegrate part, which would’ve been a bit humorous if not for her screeched curse at the end. Your emotions were all jumbled, since part of you wanted to fist pump with joy that Negan had decided to officially move out his wives and make them a part of the community, while another part of you knew that to let your happiness show would only cause Amber to escalate. And while you didn’t feel too bad for her, especially considering the way she’d treated other women like Maria and Trixie, you could still relate on a human level to the shitty feeling of being unwanted. It was that little crumb of empathy that you tried to lead with, despite the subconscious begging you to just bypass all that and use a fist instead. 

“I honestly wasn't aware that he did that,” you said, hoping she could hear the sincerity in your voice. “I understand that it’s gotta be frustrating to-”

“Don’t try to feed me bullshit by saying you understand!” she interrupted, eyes blazing with anger. “You think that just because you waltzed in there with your little food trays and spread your legs for him whenever he wants that it makes you better than us. You could’ve played by the rules and become a wife like the rest of us, but nooo. You must think you’re really fucking special, to screw us all over and wreck the entire system! News flash bitch, you’ll never be enough to satisfy him, and he’ll get bored with you soon enough. Then we’ll see how much you ‘understand’ when the tables turn and he asks us to come back while you’re the one tossed to the side! Because that’s what will happen in time, and it’ll make him look weak and indecisive to the entire community. I hope you’re prepared for that, for his potential downfall to be all. Your. Fault!”   

Well so much for going the empathetic route, you thought as a spark of anger burned in your gut. She stood there, breathing heavily from her outburst and wearing a cruel smirk as she waited to see what effect her words would have on you. Said effect was that both your subconscious and brain were now wielding swords, ready to go to battle and take her out. 

Any desire to try and make peace flew out the window, as you saw through her act and straight to exactly what she was trying to accomplish by confronting you. How dare she take her own hurt and insecurities and try to throw them back on you. And what made you extra mad was how calculated they were to cause injury. She had spit the words with pure venom, designed to seep into your veins and poison all confidence that what you had with Negan was real. 

If she had said this to you even two days ago, it might’ve actually worked, might’ve combined with that padlocked box of questions and been the tipping point to send you over the edge into fully believing every word. There had also been the ball of self-doubt, which until the other night had been constantly following you around and whispering that Negan would never give up a group of women who were always at his beck and call for someone as independent and outspoken as you. That he couldn’t possibly change his rules so completely for you. That he couldn’t possibly love you. 

But this wasn’t two days ago, and you knew better now. 

Spine stiffening, you stared Amber down and said in a cool yet stern voice, “It’s obvious that nothing I say will make you happy, unless it’s that I leave Negan alone and let you have him.” You saw her eyes spark in anticipation at the words, as if she expected you to do just that. “But that’s not going to happen.” 

Her fists clenched at her sides, and she opened her mouth, probably to spout more vitriol. But you weren’t having it. In fact, she wasn’t even worth the effort of fighting, and refusing to spend another second entertaining her bullshit would be a more satisfying win than arguing back and forth. 

“I think it’s time for you to leave.” 

“Why you-”

“Leave, Amber. Before this escalates and ends in a public and unattractive way. Unless you want others to see you escorted out of the Sanctuary.”

You were possibly talking out your ass with that last bit, since you didn’t have the authority to ban anyone from the compound. However, she didn’t need to know that, and you could tell that the threat worked when her mouth clamped shut, eyes blazing with hatred as she marched towards you. For a moment, you had the fear that she was going to start a physical altercation. Instead, she angrily stomped past, a hair’s breadth away from knocking into you as the pungent smell of fake flowers trailed after her. 

“This isn’t over, bitch.” 

The words were said as she grabbed the knob and threw back the door dramatically. It flew open and slammed into the wall, swinging mere inches from your face. It would’ve been an impressive exit, except that she had barely set foot out into the hall when every muscle in her body went taut as a bowstring, and her face drained of all color as she looked at something up and to the left. 

Taking a step forward to glance out the doorway, your eyes widened in shock at the sight of Negan standing right outside. You weren’t sure how long he had been there, but seeing as how the door had been unlatched and opened a crack the entire time, he had to have at least heard the end of your conversation. 

Her mouth opened but no words came out, and you knew that she was frantically trying to come up with a way to twist the situation. If given enough time, she’d make herself look squeaky clean and try to manipulate things so that it would appear as if the confrontation was somehow your fault. Rather than give her time to come up with a bullshit excuse, Negan spoke first, his tone low and deadly serious. 

“Don’t say a fucking word. Nothing’s changed from what I told you earlier, and I don’t want any more fucking feedback about it. You and I are fucking done, and if you can’t handle that, then you’ll be escorted the fuck out first thing tomorrow morning, just like she fucking said.”

You felt a spark of satisfaction at his agreement with your threat to make her leave, at the way he stood in solidarity with you. Amber deflated slightly at his words, but she still glanced back at you over her shoulder, eyes shooting daggers. Unable to help one moment of pure pettiness, you looked her square in the eye and got the last word.

 “I’d say this is fucking over.” 

She knew she’d been beaten, you could see it written all over her face. But Amber was prideful, and she’d not crumple in front of an audience. Instead, she held her head high and walked quickly past Negan without a second glance. The two of you watched her march down the hall and disappear into the stairwell, and you had a feeling that, despite her brave face, she was going to find somewhere private to hide and lick her emotional wounds. 

Negan turned to you, the anger slipping from his expression as he scanned up and down your body, as if to make sure that there was no physical injury. Thankfully, all wounds had been emotionally inflicted and they were nothing more than shallow cuts, rather than the deep stabs Amber had been hoping for. 

“How long have you been standing there?”

His lips curled up into a pleased smirk, as he replied, “Long enough to know that you had the situation fucking handled, and didn’t need my help.”

You huffed out a tiny laugh at that, pleased to know that while he had been listening, he hadn’t just charged in and taken over. He’d been willing to stay back and let you deal with the conflict on your own...had trusted your ability to take care of it. 

You started to exit the room and close the door, but halted when he said, “Why don’t you pack a bag first.”

“What?” you blinked rapidly at him in confusion.

He shrugged casually, as if to try and offset the seriousness of his words. “Since you’re spending nights with me, it only makes fucking sense to move some of your stuff up to my room. Maybe then you won’t keep stealing my fuckin’ toothbrushes and clothes. Maybe if you ask nicely enough, I’ll even clear out a drawer or two.”

It took a few seconds to process that Negan had just done the apocalypse version of asking you to start moving in with him. Your subconscious and brain had linked arms and were twirling in a circle while tossing confetti into the air, but you tried to act as cool and casual as Negan had about it, nodding and turning back into your room. It wasn’t until you were sure he couldn’t see your face that you allowed a huge grin and silent scream of excitement.

Grabbing the brown sack, you threw in half your t-shirts (aka the ones that were currently clean) and the navy blue gym shorts. A slight blush tinted your cheeks as you tried to quickly and discreetly throw in a few pairs of underwear and socks, though you knew he was standing in the doorway and watching your every move. You also grabbed the toothbrush and toothpaste, but left the shower items. Negan had plenty of those to share, and you weren't willingly giving up the luxury of his fluffy towels and fancy soaps. You topped off the bag with some extra hair ties, a comb, and the copy of Harry Potter. It wasn’t everything, but it put enough of a dent in your belongings that you wouldn’t need to stop back here every evening after dinner, and could instead go straight to his rooms. 

Walking towards him, you went to sling the bag strap up over your arm, but he held out his hand, palm up in offering. You gave a joking eye roll, but passed over the bag so that he could sling it up over his own broad shoulder. Instinctively reaching for his hand, you laced your fingers with his and gave a squeeze of thanks, as the two of you started off down the hall and upstairs to his room.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

#negan #negan x reader #ash writes #negan fanfiction #irresistible danger #negan fanfics #twd #the walking dead #negan's thirst squad #negan slow burn #negan x you #negan x oc #slow burn #twd negan #fanfics #fanfic #fanfiction

[irishseeeker]

Since you’re answering asks about the show—how do you think they’re going to handle Bridgerton house in season 2 and going forward? When Anthony and Kate move in and the rest of them move to number 5, most of the Bridgerton kids still live with Violet (idk where Colin and Benedict live in the show…?) And since Bridgerton house was one of the main sets in season one, it would be jarring to suddenly have the main characters of future seasons be living in a house other than Bridgerton house.

So…do Anthony and Kate move in with the rest of the family? Do they allow Violet to stay there until the kids grow up? (side note the scenes between Violet and Kate about passing down the title of viscountess is gonna make me so emo) Will they decide to break my heart and have kathony live off screen at Aubrey hall during all future seasons so it’s not a problem? Am I thinking about this way too much? 🤣

Hi Anon! Hope you’re having a good day! That's such a good question and something I've thought a lot about.

Bridgerton House is definitely the most important set and the main place where they all have dinner and congregate and later this will be No.5 from S3. I think they’re going to increase the amount of scenes all the Bridgertons have together as those scenes are so popular from S1 and the show is about the Bridgertons after all! Plus Ben and Colin will be focused on big time this season to build up for their seasons.  Bridgerton is such an expensive show they’ll want to use the same sets as much as possible and they’re already expanding a lot for S2 with Aubrey Hall, the Sharmas and probably a few more sets. A lot of Anthony’s scenes take place in his father’s office in the books and S1 and they definitely will in S2, so Bridgerton House is very important. I reckon we’ll see Kate, Edwina and Mary in Bridgerton House for tea or dinner with all the Bridgertons at some point as well pre and post engagement. Bridgerton House is where we’ll  mainly see all the unmarried Bridgertons together, especially Hyacinth, Greg, Eloise and Francesca as that’s where we saw them most in S1 (excluding parties and balls) and there’s not a whole lot going on for them unless the smaller ones get more of a plot but I doubt that. We’ll definitely see more of Eloise everywhere like we did in S1 anyway as her plot will be her debut to society! 

I’m kind of curious if they’ll show any of Eloise’s suitors and possibly one she actually likes? As she does get a few proposals over the years in her book but she has 0 interest in any of them. I reckon we’ll see her just being the worst, funniest debutant in the history of London haha.

I think they’ll definitely do the move to No.5 but not properly until S3. It definitely will be jarring but I’m thinking they’ll make it a plot line for sure to show the transition and sort of the emotional impact of it, leaving behind Edmund and their family home. I could see Kate and Anthony moving into Bridgerton House in the last episode in the final scene of S2 like a year later with Kate recovered from her leg injury and pregnant, to set the scene for S3 as most of that will take place in No.5 with Sophie and the Bridgertons. No.5 is important for S3. I also think we'll see Violet and the Bridgertons having a moment together before they leave their childhood home either at the end of S2 or at the beginning of S3, as that's going to be emotional for them, particularly Violet as she’s leaving the place she lived with Edmund behind.  

 TVWLM ends in 1814 and AOFAG begins in 1815, which is when Edmund II is born. I’m thinking Kate and Anthony's role in the first 2 episodes could be Kate's struggles to adapting to motherhood or as Viscountess now they're living in Bridgerton House or something like that. Anthony struggles too possibly? Moving in with the family is actually a really good idea as that would definitely result in some humour as they all could get very sick of each other? Or it would just make it easier for the writers and the show to have everyone together. They could move in with the Bridgertons first and then they could leave just before the time skip in AOFAG. I really don’t see them all living together as that’s not how the books do it but who knows! I just really hope Anthony and Kate have a good sub-plot in S3. I'm thinking the first episode of S3 will be mainly about Sophie's childhood and life (or they could do it in flashbacks but for Sophie it would make more sense to just tell her story at once to understand why she runs away) and it will end with the ball scene, so Edmund’s birth fits in perfectly around then before the 2 year time skip. The ball scene could even be episode 2! 

This also will be the year Francesca enters society and marries John so John courting Franny & their engagement will definitely be a sub-plot in S3, maybe only for an episode or two or we might only get an introduction and then we see them married. This will happen before the time skip which I can’t see them avoiding as it just throws the entire time line off. Anthony will be relatively involved in that plot as well and so will Violet. 

Daphne's role in S2 intrigues me as she won't have Simon so to see where she fits in and if she has a plot herself will indicate what's in store for Anthony, Ben etc when they're married after their seasons and if their spouses stay on. Although, they will have a bigger role than Daphne regardless as the brothers always have scenes together and are relatively involved in their brother’s love lives. I can see Phoebe leaving after S2 but I would like if they focused on motherhood for Daphne in S2 and possibly helping Anthony out with courting and his love life if she does end up going. It would be sad but hopefully she stays! She might not really be in S2 we won’t know for ages anyway! 

The show is so expensive that I think they’ll minimize the amount of sets they have to set up or locations they shoot on and for S2, I’d be surprised if Ben and Colin aren’t nearly always in Bridgerton House. Benedict and Colin seem to be living in Bridgerton House in the show from what we've seen so far, they're always at the house and they return from balls to Bridgerton House. Anthony is the only one who doesn't live there but we never see his bachelor lodgings and I don't think we will until their wedding night, unless we seem some scenes of him brooding on his own and pining over Kate haha. I can see Anthony gifting Benedict My Cottage at some point in S2 to set him up for season 3 and to help him escape London, but in his book Ben has his own bachelor lodgings which I don’t think we’ll see until S3. I don't think we'll see Colin's bachelor lodgings until S4 as that's when he gets a place in RMB after returning from his travels. I think they'll want to keep Colin in the show as much as possible so any time skips that's when he'll be traveling like when they ended S1 with him going off to travel and then flash forward to a year and Daphne and Simon have their baby. So when he’s in London, he’ll always be at Bridgerton House or No.5.

Going by the first season, I presume there's going to be 8 episodes in season 2. I think Kate and Anthony will be married by episode 5 like Simon and Daphne were. That leaves 3 episodes of Anthony's 'I won't love my wife idiot' stage. I would love for us to get a full episode of their honeymoon in Aubrey Hall but I don't think we will considering the book didn't have it and we're going to get at least 2 episodes in Aubrey Hall anyway. I do think one of the post-marriage episodes will be focused on Kate adjusting to the role of Viscountess and her bonding and having some very sweet moments with Violet and the Bridgertons. I hope they'll focus on her insecurities and her struggles with how Anthony is behaving and just how society has been treating her.  Especially when Anthony ran off to Aubrey Hall after their engagement and left Kate all alone to deal with the whispers? I hope they address that and he gets some slack for it. I think there’s going to be a good few scenes in S2 at the Sharma residence as well and a few balls, definitely one at Lady Danburys, so we’re in for an amazing season! 

Who knows what will happen but I could see them using very similar sets for Bridgerton House & No.5 in future seasons so it wouldn’t be a big change. No. 5 will still be a big household if it has the 4 youngest and Violet and occasioanlly Colin and Ben. I’m still not so sure about Eloise’s book and on, I think the strongest and most popular books plot wise are Anthonys, Benedicts and Colins and everyone is hyped for them. Daphne’s did extremely well though with a weaker book (that was still good just not a favourite of mine) so I have high hopes for them to do all the Bridgerton’s books. What I think they could do is possibly combine Eloise and Francescas for S5? As they’re both taking place at the same time in 1824. Gregory’s book was okay but it could be a good adaption as there’s so much going on. Who knows! They’ve already included Marina and Philip so that seems like an indication they would love to do them all and plan to?

I really went on here (again, do I ever stop talking). I don’t know what anyone else thinks but I’d love to hear! I could talk about Bridgerton forever tbh and I really do need to get back to the many invoices waiting for me <3 hope you’re having a good day anon!

#bridgerton #hahaha I really could go on for hours #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #eloise bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #violet bridgerton #the viscount who loved me #an offer from a gentleman #when he was wicked #to sir philip with love #marina thompson #romancing mr bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington

[c-rose2081]

Summary: As a Father and King, Phillip helps Audrey navigate some inner turmoil after Ben announces Maleficent’s Daughter will be invited to Auradon.

Aurora, Phillip, & Audrey AU

—

The Brooding Tree

Coming home to a brooding wife was never a good thing. Phillip learned this early on, as his dear Briar Rose had the ability to brood with the best of them. But coming home to both a brooding wife, and a brooding teenage daughter? Well. That was just bizarre. Removing his cloak as he stepped in the door to Fairy Cottage, Rose was sitting at the table. Phillip expected as much; there weren’t many places she could hide anyway.

“Any particular reason Little Dove is up in the brooding tree?” Phillip asked her innocently, hanging up his hat and satchel next to his cloak. The large oak outside was one of Audrey’s favorite places to sit; normally when she was thinking deeply about something. Similarly, this chair at the kitchen table was Rose’s special spot, and she merely gave a little sigh into her teacup. That wasn’t a good sign at all.

“It wasn’t your mother again, was it?” Phillip asked with a grimace, “or boy issues?”

Rose shook her head, still gently tapping chipped porcelain with French tips. Phillip rubbed his smooth chin with a hand.

“It was...erm, girl trouble, then?”

His awkwardness around the subject of ‘girl trouble’ brought a smile to his wife’s face as she chuckled under her breath.

“I’m sorry, my love. It’s...it’s something I think you need to ask Audrey about.”

“Oh,” Phillip furrowed his brows slightly, “so, it’s something serious?”

“I’m not sure of that myself, to be honest,” Rose admitted lightly, “would you talk to her please? I’ll make more tea,”

Making tea was Rose’s secret code for ‘this might take a while’, so Phillip merely nodded. Before leaving to deal with Audrey, he hugged his wife from behind, inhaling the scent of her hair and skin. She merely hummed a bit in response, accepting the little peck on the lips he offered before returning to her task. Resting both hands behind his head in a subtle stretch, Phillip left the cottage to face the Brooding Tree.

He wasn’t quite as spry as he was in his youth, so it took a bit of effort to scramble his way up into the thick branches. Audrey, as he expected her to be, was nestled in the canopy. She had one leg dangling over the edge, bare foot rocking back and forth as she stroked a small squirrel which had made its way into her lap. Audrey, like her mother, had a special way with woodland creatures. She looked deeply pensive about something, though didn’t seem to be in any sort of anguish. No tears was a bit worrying.

“Little Dove, I wish you’d choose a lower branch,” Phillip complained as he shifted into a spot close to her side, “I’m not as young as I used to be,”

Audrey didn’t say anything, merely turned to look at him. Now, face to face, Phillip could tell she was trying hard not to cry, “oh, Audrey. What’s going on?”

“Ben...he...he told me about...about what his first Kingly proclamation is going to be,” Audrey managed though hiccuping breaths, the water already brimming at the edges of her eyes. It made Phillip’s gut twist, seeing his daughter trying so hard to stay strong despite being upset. No wonder Aurora wasn’t out here. If that happened, he’d have come home to two beautiful bawling women. Cause he knew when one started to cry, so did the other. Like mother like daughter, he supposed.

“What was it?” Phillip urged her, “the proclamation?”

Audrey inhaled hard, beginning to sniffle. If they weren’t in such a precarious position, Phillip would’ve scooped her up into his big arms in a second, “I know it’s hard, but please try and tell me, Little Dove,”

It took a minute, but Audrey reeled in her composure with a few long, shaky breaths. Phillip was proud of her, being able to pull herself together so well. But there wasn’t anything wrong with being upset. Especially when he hadn’t seen her so wound up since she was little. Clearly whatever Ben had decided wasn’t sitting well with his little Princess, and Phillip wanted to wring his neck for it.

“Ben said that...he wants to bring some kids over from the Isle of the Lost. T-to attend Auradon Prep this year,” Audrey managed finally, watching the squirrel leave her lap with longing eyes, as though she wanted to follow it and vanish even higher up into the leaves.

“The children of Villains, living among us,” Phillip mused, “a bold choice for a first Kingly decision,”

“I thought so. B-but I didn’t think it was such a horrible idea; the children are innocent,”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Phillip agreed, “but there was something else, I’m assuming?”

Audrey blinked nodded mutely, folding her hands in her lap. Phillip waited patiently for her to continue, shuffling into a more comfortable position in the tree. His body would be sore all over tomorrow, but he’d slay a million dragons if it would bring a smile back to Audrey’s face.

“The son of Jafar, the Son of Cruella, the Daughter of the Evil Queen...” Audrey paused for a moment, appearing to hesitate, “and the Daughter of Maleficent,”

Phillip nearly fell out of the tree, and Audrey’s composure finally shattered as she began to cry, holding an arm across her eyes as she wept quietly. The evil fairy’s name was enough to send her spiraling. No wonder Rose was so...subdued. No doubt she had her own bout of sobbing before Phillip had arrived home.

“Maleficent,” Phillip scoffed, running a hand through his hair, “and he didn’t even ask if that was ok with you?”

Audrey shook her head negatively as Phillip clenched his fists. Ben was young still, which made him stupid. He was pressing against a very fine line with a stunt like this. Auroria - a combination of the two smaller kingdoms of Rosalia (Stephan & Leah’s Kingdom) and Westminshire (Hubert’s Kingdom) - was one of Auradon’s biggest allies in trade and military power. If either Stephan or Hubert saw Audrey right now, sobbing in a tree because of Ben and his big mouth, they’d bring war on the young King’s head in a second.

“It’s...it’s not what you think,” Audrey spoke up, drawing Phillip back from his own short moment of brooding. She looked better now; a bit puffy eye’d but no longer straining to keep it all contained, “I think they should come,”

“You want Maleficent’s daughter here in Auradon?” Phillip asked her, a smidge puzzled as Audrey shrugged.

“It means a lot to Ben. And he’s right that the children don’t deserve the same judgement as their parents,”

“Wise words,” Phillip complemented her, “so what’s eating you?”

“I’m...not sure,” Audrey admitted, wiping at her nose, clearly frustrated at being unable to articulate exactly what she had on her mind.

“What is your gut telling you, then?” Phillip suggested. They did this practice a lot while riding. Relying on your eyes and your head was all well and good, but sometimes pure gut instinct was all one needed. Audrey thought for a moment, feeling herself out. 
“Nothing. It’s all just anxiety,” she said finally, “nervousness? Not...not about the idea of Isle Kids coming over. But something...something else,” Audrey pouted a bit in frustration, “I’ve known Ben forever, even if we aren’t super close anymore. He knows how badly Maleficent scarred you both, and how she hurt Grammy and Grandpas. Yet he chose her daughter anyway, out of all the other villains. Knowing full well how I’d react,”

Audrey shifted to where she straddled the branch, leaning forward on both hands as she traced the bark with her eyes. She had moved from tears to agitation, which was a good sign that she was finally navigating the mess that was her thoughts. She took medication for it, a small little pill to help things clear up, but they weren’t always enough to smooth out the wrinkles, “I bet King Beast wouldn’t have allowed it if Ben had chosen Gaston’s child to come to Auradon,”

“A keen observation,” Phillip agreed, kicking one leg over the other as the discussion turned political, “and what of the other Kingdoms?”

“Both Agrabah and Shimmervale are small compared to Auradon,” Audrey told him, “Sultana Jasmine and Queen Snow White could do little if not gripe to the crown about the decision. Anita and Rodger, as sweet and good natured as they are, don’t even have a Kingdom. Let alone an heir. The risk was low for the other three,”

“So why do you think Ben chose Maleficent?”

Audrey thought for a moment as Phillip watched. Her brilliant mind was flicking a million miles a minute; he could see it on her face. Finally her expression turned grave.

“To make a statement at the expense of Auroria,” she decided, “rather then having to deal with King Beast,”

“Very possible, yes,” Phillip agreed with her, “was this the best decision for Ben to make?”

“No,” Audrey insisted immediately, “Ben should’ve kept the risk internal, as to not threaten ties to one of Auradon’s biggest allies. I could give the word and Grandpas would turn the cannons on Auradon.”

Audrey was correct, if not a tad bit harsh in her assumptions. Phillip knew one day should would make an excellent, if not ferocious, Queen. Certainly not one to cross swords with. But such harshness could be dangerous in a ruler (Leah for instance), and so Phillip interjected.

“On a purely political level, you are correct, Little Dove. But what does your heart tell you about Ben’s decision?”

Audrey sat back, letting off a bit of steam as she pondered the new question. She was excellent at complex puzzles, and a wiz at chess. Phillip could never beat her. But if he could appeal to the soft side of her, inherited from his wife, she was able to balance out her own scales. Audrey had plenty of weak points, if one simply knew where to look.

“He probably just wanted to impress his dad,” Audrey admitted, “bringing a child of Gaston would’ve upset him. You know how infamous the Beast Family Temper can be. But making amends with an heir to Maleficent? Talk about fitting the crown,”

“I concur,” Phillip smiled, “so, what will our next move be? We could block from the front, make our displeasure with Ben’s choice known and possibly stir up some misgivings between allies. Or we allow this to go forward. Give the word and we go straight to Auradon and nip this thing,”

“I...” Audrey hesitated for a moment, pursing her lips, “I think we should allow it,” Audrey decided finally, “let Ben impress his dad. And if something goes wrong, it will be his own mistake for which he’ll have to learn. But we make direct contact with Agrabah and Shimmervale beforehand, promising protection and military aid should something go wrong.”

“And why should we do that? You said it yourself they are small kingdoms.”

“If something does happen, having strong ties with all of our allies will be beneficial. Especially if the crown becomes unfavorable. The children of the Isle deserve a chance to be here, and I know Ben’s just trying to do what he thinks is righteous. And, should he succeed, I don’t want to be the one trying to halt progress,”

Phillip grinned, overflowing with pride as Audrey’s lips finally upturned into a small, if not tired smile. She would probably need a solid nap after such mental and emotional turmoil, but making her own choice on the matter would at least bring her some peace.

“I think that is a wise and well informed decision,” Phillip agreed, “a ruler needs to be fair and impartial, but that doesn’t mean pushing your feelings away. That will leave a choice shallow, and with possible side effects. Impartiality, but still empathetic.” smiling at one another in the tree, Phillip groaned and stretched out his arms, “why don’t we head inside? Maman made tea, and you and I have some correspondence to write.”

“Ugh papa, not the scrolls,” Audrey groaned, “I don’t understand why we can’t just send emails.”

“Hey, scrolls are a tradition,” Phillip insisted, watching Audrey as she began her quick and easy clamber back down the tree, “there’s more power in one handwritten scroll then a dozen emails.”

“It’s ancient,” Audrey laughed, waiting by the base of the tree as Phillip jumped down beside her, “maybe I could convince Ben to make emails more official when he becomes King,”

“You do that,” Phillip teased, ruffling his daughters ponytail as she huffed girlishly. From the cottage window, Aurora was watching them both fondly. She was using her favorite pink tea cup, meaning she too had found some sort of inner peace while Phillip dealt with Audrey. And as the pair headed inside for some lunch and writing, the father knew that his daughter would be a wise and just ruler someday. Phillip also knew one other thing.

Never doubt the Brooding Tree.

#descendants #disney descendants #descendants fanfiction #alternate universe #audrey rose #disney fanfiction #family fluff

[minimitchell]

callumhighwayweek day 4 - “you’re not jealous, are you?” (ao3 link)

.

Callum likes working at ‘Roasted’. It’s a nice enough job, the pay is better than with most student jobs around here and he meets lots of interesting people. Granted, a lot of them are kind of snobby and definitely a lot more of the hipster variety than what he’s used to, coming from the East End and all, but it is a fun job.

And it’s not like he’s going to be here forever.

He started working at the coffee shop in his second year of Uni, having seen their job listing for a barista on Instagram of all places. It’s pretty on par for the shop though. The owners, an older, alternative couple he’s only met a handful of times, are living in Bali for the better part of the year and the coffee shop is mostly being managed by their daughter. She’s laid back and funny and a really great boss.

And Callum has learned a lot in the last year and a half he’s been working here. He’d only done bar work in the past, pulling pints and washing dirty glasses, but he genuinely likes being a barista. He feels good whenever he remembers an order from someone who comes in regularly, he likes seeing their faces when they discover some new latte art he practiced and he doesn’t even mind serving teen girls for the sole purpose of them taking a picture with their names on their cups afterwards.

He likes it because he likes making people feel good, even if it’s just with a coffee, and he likes putting a little smile on their faces - and it also doesn’t hurt that he gets free drinks and free cake samples all day long.

“And a wonderful day to my favorite colleague as well.”

Oh yeah, there’s also Ben.

Ben had started two months before Callum even got the job here but by the time Callum had completed his training, Ben was already working like a seasoned pro.

He’s also in his last year at Uni, but he’s in a completely different department than Callum is. He’s a business major, spending most of his time across campus from Callum, who’s studying social work. On paper, they shouldn’t really get along considering their wildly different interests and plans for their future jobs, but they immediately clicked.

At one point during a quiet shift they got talking about their aspirations and Ben had told him he’s planning to take over his dad’s businesses when he’s done with Uni and maybe even expand them further. Callum thinks Ben can easily do that; he’s dead smart.

He’s also devastatingly handsome, as Callum noticed the very first time they met. Ben has these captivating blue eyes and an easy, welcoming smirk on his face at all times. He’s definitely a people person, able to make easy chit chat with just about anyone that comes in. He has this aura of confidence and assurance around him but it doesn’t make him come across as arrogant, not at all.

They spend most of their shifts together talking or teasing one another when they aren’t swamped with work. Ben likes to try almost every cake they’re offering that day, feeding little bites to Callum when he deems it ‘worthy enough for him’ and Callum likes to use Ben as a guinea pig for his latte art, trying out new designs or perfecting his existing one’s.

And when business is slow or when they’re about ready to close up in the evening, they get to talk with one another. What started with them talking about their degrees and course work quickly moved onto deeper and more substantial topics. 

Callum talks about being the first person in his family to go to Uni and the pressure he feels on himself because of that. He tells Ben about his desire to make a difference in the world, to help children who come from the same rough parts as himself. Ben on the other hand talks about his family a lot, about the need to prove himself in a big family you otherwise get lost in, about the feeling that he needs to compensate for his dad’s disapproval.

Disapproval stemming from the fact that he’s gay.

Yeah, he told Callum about that as well. It was a small revelation to him and Callum couldn’t help but tell him it’s the same for him. It feels like a new, deeper, level to their friendship.

It’s also the full source of Callum’s misery.

Because before this revelation, Callum could accept that the little infatuation he’s developed for Ben was entirely for nought. He was under no impression that this crush was ever going to be reciprocated because, to be completely honest, Callum had just assumed that Ben’s straight.

But since he knows that this isn’t the case at all, it almost feels like his crush has doubled or tripled in size; like maybe it has grown even more because there’s now this tiny, traitorous voice whispering that there might be a chance for them. Assuming he’d ever actually have the courage to ask Ben out.

He hasn’t so far; every time he even thinks about asking Ben to go out with him he chickens out in the end, afraid that Ben will laugh at him. Or even worse, that he’ll never want to work with him ever again. Because while he does like working here, he likes it even better when he’s working alongside Ben.

“How did your exam go?”

Ben joins him behind the counter, going to wash his hands before he starts taking over for Callum behind the till. He’s wearing a black polo underneath his burgundy apron and his hair is nicely tousled; Callum is itching to run his hands through it.

“Aced it. Hopefully.”

He pulls a face, trying to play it cool even though they both know Ben understands Advanced Marketing better than most people in his course. Callum didn’t expect anything less than an ace from Ben.

“‘Course you did.”

Ben sends him a wink, strolling over to the display counter and observing what they have on offer today. There’s a fresh carrot cake there Callum’s dying to share with Ben later. He steps next to Callum behind the till, logging in with his cashier number once Callum signs off and the way he rests his hand on Callum’s lower back while doing so, makes his heart throb in his chest, hammering all the way up into his throat.

Maybe today is the day he finally has the guts to ask Ben out on a date.

The shop gets busy shortly after Ben gets here and they don’t even really have time to get a breath in-between all the coffee and cake orders they have to prepare. It’s a fairly small shop and only two people are always scheduled to work on weekdays so they’re busy until the midday and after-work rushes are over.

Callum saves the last piece of carrot cake for Ben - even though their manager always yells at them for not giving everything to the paying customers - and Callum is just about to get it from the stock room to surprise Ben with it when this guy leans on the counter in front of the till.

He’s seen him before a couple times - tall caramel latte, Callum thinks. He doesn’t look much older than him and Ben, probably a fellow student, and Callum doesn’t like him for the sole reason that he always flirts with Ben when he comes in, trying to make him laugh or smile bashfully at the ground.

Callum hates even more that it works most of the time.

It’s no different this time. The guy says something that makes Ben laugh, making a show of dropping a five pound note into their tip jar after he’s paid just so Ben can see him do it and leers after him when Ben goes to make the drink for him.

He leaves with a wink in Ben’s direction afterwards and Callum eats the whole piece of carrot cake by himself in the stock room as some weird form of silent protest.

.

They don’t always work together.

Ben has a lot of afternoon classes and works late or mornings, whereas Callum is almost exclusively at Uni in the mornings and comes into work afterwards. So yeah, sometimes their shifts don’t line up. And then some other times, it’s just bad luck.

Callum tries not to sulk when he hears that Ben called in sick today. He knows it’s probably nothing too bad but they’re advised to stay home at any possible sign of illness regardless, for hygienic reasons and all that.

He likes working with Keegan, who came in for Ben today, as well but he was really looking forward to seeing Ben.

It sounds dramatic but the day drags on and on without Ben here, cracking jokes and making Callum weird drink combinations to try. Callum thinks it can’t get any worse but at close to five a very familiar face walks through the door.

It’s the guy who always flirts with Ben and Callum watches from behind the counter as he scans the area, looking around to see if he can spot Ben presumably. Callum almost feels bad for the devilish glee coursing through him at the knowledge that he won’t be successful today.

“Hi, what can I get you?”

Callum is trying hard to stay composed and give at least the impression that he’s being friendly. The guy gives him a barely-there smile, obviously not very interested in making a good impression on anyone other than Ben.

“I was wondering if Ben is working today?”

“Sorry, I can’t give out that kind of information.”

He tries not to revel in the eye roll the guy gives him but it’s hard not to. Yes, it’s incredibly petty but Callum can’t help it, he’d rather work the morning shift every day for a whole month than see Ben go out with this cocky prick.

The guy heaves a sigh and gives his order - one tall caramel latte just like Callum thought it was - and Callum punches it in for Keegan to prepare. Callum tells the guy his total and waits until he presses his card against the reader, nodding when the transaction goes through.

Callum thinks he’s about to put money in the tip jar but instead, the guy fishes a white business card out of his trouser pocket and slides it across the counter towards Callum.

“Can you give this to Ben? My number is on the back.”

He doesn’t wait for Callum to take it or even agree, moving along the counter to get his drink from Keegan. Callum tries not to openly show his annoyance at the bloke, grabbing the card and stuffing it into the pocket of his apron.

Over the next few hours he forgets all about the little piece of paper still hiding in the fabric of his apron. He’s cleaning the appliances, waiting for Keegan to be done with mopping the floor so they can close up for the day, when he realizes the business card is still in his possession.

He pulls it out of his pocket, looking at the bland text written across it in bold letters. Which student even carries a business card around with them? Even his name is obnoxious - Tristan, ugh. He doesn’t even feel bad when he, completely accidentally of course, lets the card fall, watching it sink to the bottom of the trash bag and getting covered by the old coffee grounds a moment later.

Oops.

.

Callum forgets all about Tristan and his stupid little business card, mostly because his next two shifts are spend with Ben again. To be completely honest, Callum could probably forget anything else around him exists whenever he’s in a room with Ben; it’s gotten that bad for him.

He’s completely determined to ask Ben out today, spurred on by the all of a sudden very real chance that someone else might get there before he can, and he doesn’t want to risk that. He’s been in love with the guy for close to a year now, he won’t waste another day.

Callum is in the back room, restocking the cups and lids before the evening rush begins when he hears Ben laughing at something behind the counter. He pokes his head through the door to see what’s so funny, but he doesn’t feel like laughing at all when he sees bloody Tristan standing there, arrogantly smiling at Ben.

He’s too busy seething at the fact he probably missed his chance with Ben now, can already see Ben accepting the number and going on dates and probably falling head over heels for this stupid guy, to remember he chucked the guy’s number in the bin. The one, he’s apparently asking about judging by Ben’s confused face and slight head tilt.

The distance between the stock room and the till is too great to make out any coherent words so he doesn’t know what Ben is saying in return, but it’s pretty clear this Tristan guy will throw him under the bus any moment now. God, how is he going to explain this to Ben when he inevitably asks why Callum didn’t forward the guy’s number? This is so not how he wanted this to go today; he could cry at the thought alone.

Ben turns his head to look in his direction and Callum has to duck back into the room in a flash, praying that Ben didn’t see him spying on his conversation just now.

He isn’t exactly proud of hiding in here afterwards, waiting for Tristan to leave and just staring at the different sized lids and brown paper cups with their logo emblazoned on the side. It’s definitely the most cowardly thing to do but Callum honestly feels like crying right now. He can’t bear to hear the guy he’s so stupidly in love with talk about going out with someone else; he just can’t do it.

It hurts knowing he’s never going to get the chance to make Ben see how perfect they could be for each other. Because he just knows he could make him so, so happy; Callum’s sure of that. He feels it deep in his chest, right where his heart is slowly twisting and turning.

“So, uh, you got something you wanna give me?”

The sudden shock at hearing Ben’s voice right behind him makes Callum flail his arms around, knocking over a whole stack of lids and sending them cluttering to the ground right in front of Ben’s shoes. He doesn’t really know what to say, whether he should admit he’s thrown the number away in a fit of pure jealousy or not, and the conflict must show on his face because Ben immediately takes pity on him.

“I told him we hadn’t seen each other since then so you didn’t have the chance to give it to me.”

“Thanks.”

The ground seems much more interesting to him than Ben’s expectant face right now and he’s scuffing his shoe along one of the many stains littering the light grey linoleum. Ben tries to catch his eyes, leaning down to enter Callum’s eyesight.

“Are you gonna tell me why you didn’t?”

Callum remains silent, only giving Ben a slight shrug in response to his question. Ben waits him out though, leaning against the doorframe until Callum finally sighs and meets Ben’s eyes. Time to get it out, he reckons.

He’s about to confess, to lay his feelings bare, when Ben preempts him.

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

His voice is light and joking but there’s an undertone to it. Something that sounds almost daring and hopeful; like the prospect of Callum being jealous of someone wanting to ask him out doesn’t annoy Ben but that he’s actually maybe hoping it’s true.

The thought makes Callum pause, taking in the slight smile on Ben’s face and the bright sparkle in his eyes. It makes him brave enough to finally admit his feelings, to finally take that plunge into the unknown, uncertain.

“I was working up the courage to ask you out for weeks now, months even.”

Ben’s smile stretches out across his face, transforming his face into something even more beautiful than normal. He takes a step towards Callum, tangling his hands around the straps of Callum’s apron, pulling him further into his own body.

“So ask me.”

Ben is smiling up at him, his fingers running up and down the skin underneath the straps and he feels the touch burn through his shirt. He looks loved up for lack of a better term and Callum has the brief thought that they could’ve spent so much time being with each other already, but it doesn’t really matter now. They got there anyway.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

Ben pulls him down against him, sealing their lips together in a careful kiss. It’s the most perfect thing Callum’s ever tasted, ever felt in his entire life. His hands settle on both sides of Ben’s face, guiding him back onto his lips again and again and again. Until their lips are red and puffy and customers are yelling to be served.

They get fired two weeks later for spending a little too much time in the stock room. 

It’s worth it.

#chweek2021 #callumhighwayweek2021 #ballum fic #my writing #yes i watched too much love victor and wrote a coffee shop au sue me

[itspdameronthings]

mysterious house

Summary: Here is my entry for @autumnleaves1991-blog's writing challenge. combined with my favorite show charmed( original) with star wars. poe comes to visit a friend. then finds something mysterious about her. hope the fans of charmed like this. for the ones that never seen it? you will love it.

Losing a loved one is never easy for some. No matter if it was from cancer, accident or violent act. The Organa family has been through so much in the last few years. Melinda Organa lost her brother, Ben, her father,and uncle. Now her mother, leia.now she is the only one left not counting your baby sister Rey. Hard for her to shed any tears. All she did was smile through her pain.

After the funeral. Guests come to her Victorian house. Which belonged to her family. Full of history and mystery. Police have been hounding her for the cause of her familys' deaths. If she tells them the truth? They would put her in a padded cell.

Poe Dameron drives up to the house. Look at it. In his mind it hasn't changed since he used to come by to visit Melinda. Last time was when she went away to college. Found out she came back when there was a family situation that caused her to move back home. Forced to leave toher dream job. Working at an auction house. Now she works at a museum. All he wanted was comfort his friend. That is what she needs.

Going inside sees a few familiar faces. Finn for one. Even Rey. Went over to chat with them. Asked about Melinda. All they could say was that you were in no mood to talk. Just wanted to be left alone. Heeding their advice. Go to the dining room. Sees Melinda sitting alone. Staring off in space. Didn't acknowledge anyone being in the room. Or the feel of Poe's large hand on her shoulder caused her to freak out! Meaning she almost used her special gift on him. Instead she turned around," are you dumb or just plain stupid! Want to be alone! Did Fin and Rey tell you that! That includes you. " kneeling in front of her. Take her hand," look I'm sorry for not being able to come sooner. Was hard to find a pilot to switch flights with. I'm here as long as you need me. I know I haven't been a good friend to you mel. I'm here now. To help you." She sighs," what could you have done huh! Tell me what ! I'm crazy! Saying my mom died from something no one could ever explain to anyone else! Sorry dameron. I don't need your sympathy." Pushes him aside when she goes upstairs.

Watching her go. Then sits down in the chair she was sitting on. Moans," damn, how am I supposed to help her?" For a moment he felt like someone was there. Thought it was nothing. So he got up to get his bag from the car.

Rey goes upstairs to comfort her sister," mel,that was rude of you to yell at Poe! He is here for you! This is your chance to make amends. He loves you! You love him even though he doesn't know…" she finishes the sentence," that we are witches. Our family got killed by demons from the first order. Oh added that we are the charmed ones! Minus 1! Sorry, I'm not in a forgiving mood." She tried to tell her about Poe staying with them before she left the room.

Late that night. Poe woke up to the sounds of footsteps. Opening the door. No one was there. Closing the door. Heard it again. Thinking it was just the normal thing since the house is very old. Now he couldn't get back to sleep. He got up to explore the house. He was not alone. Rey got out of her room," why are up? " poe whispers," heard footsteps thought someone is in the house. This house gives me the heevy jeeves. " she laughs," come on scary cat.let's investigate."

Two of them walked down the hall then heard the footsteps behind them. Caused them to turn around.no one. Both of them start to freak out. Both of them went to wake Melinda. She moans," what? I need some sleep! Can't this wait till morning! " poe sighs," no it can't! Someone else might be in the house. Need to find out what is going on!" In a huff. She gets out of bed," oh you two fucking babies there is no one in this house. Let me say this. If we find out there is no one here. Two of you are to leave me alone till morning. Got it?" Both of them look at her,and nod three of them leave her room to track down the mysterious footsteps.

Melinda starts to believe Rey and Poe. Melinda hears them too. You are a more logical person than your sister. Trying to figure out where the sound is coming from. Suddenly hear a door creaking down stairs. Three of you reached the stairwell to see a light coming from the dining room. Funny there is no door. Quietly approaching the room. Trying to find the door. All off you feeling around the walls, and even the bookcase. Poe found a book that was leaning in a weird position. Pull the book. Bingo! It opens. Poe leads the girls down a series of stairs. Leads to what looks like a basement. Melinda froze. Rey felt her tense up," what is it? Looks like you just saw a ghost." Looking ahead is what they saw. Lost loves standing before them. Well one of them. Melinda froze," Ben? How? Thought you were dead! What is going on?" He laughs," my dear sisters had no clue what was going on. Powerful witches as yourselves couldn't figure out what was going on." Poe looks at the girls. Did he hear him right? Melinda and Rey are witches? Ben circles them," oh it was so much fun to watch you two grieve over our family. Being killed by my new family. Love the power I have! No one could stop me from killing you all.! Then I can take over the nexus!" Melinda flicked her hand. Caused Ben to hit the wall. Ben's hands glow like lightning. Ready to throw the lighting at Melinda is when Rey yells," energy ball!" Throws it at her brother. Which it almost weakens him. Poe wants to help. Rushed towards ben. Until he was pushed back into a wall knocking him out. Melinda rushed over to him. Sees he is knocked out. Reaching for Rey's hand. Both of them chant a spell that caused him to shake violently,and disappear. Both of them cried. Until orbs of light appeared to them. See, it was leia. Reaching for them," oh my daughters. Thank you for defeating kylo. Yes, he appears as your brother but he was gone before I knew it was going on. Melinda,it is time to let go over your anger for what Poe did. He cares about you so much.That is why he is here. Oh,my young rey. Time for you to do what you dream about. Bless it be my darlings" Leia disappears. Melinda tends to poe. He wakes up,``Mel,are you okay?" Helping him up. Melinda clears her throat," wanna tell you I'm sorry for being a bitch to you. You are too sweet to be treated like that. If you like? We could start over? Clean slate." Poe cups her cheeks,and kisses her lips.

Melinda told Poe not to tell anyone what he saw. Now he knows their secret and he wants to protect them, especially Melinda. Soon they leave the room. Orbs of light appeared to Poe. A man appears before him. He spoke," well done, now you know the truth, now it's time for you to fulfill your destiny as a witch. Leia knew of your secret,but soon the others would know as well. So go and be with Melinda. Bless it be" soon the man disappeared leaving poe by himself in front of the door. With a wave of his hand . The door shuts. Power of three is back.

#writer wednesday #poe dameron #charmed #oscar isaac

[val-aquenta]

1,2,15,and 22 for the writer asks?

Ooh Yay! Thanks for the ask! Maybe I’m procrastinating writing??? but whatever, this is fun!

1. Is there a favorite character or title you enjoy writing for the most?

heh this is easy. I’m perpetually stuck between Mace, Obi-Wan, Yoda, or Luminara. Yoda I prefer to write as a side character tbh mainly because I want him to be extra grandpa to his fellow Jedi lmao. But yeah, I love writing Obi-Wan because I feel like we’re pretty similar and I can sink into his thought process quite easily which is a plus. Mace is a really fun character to write because I like to balance his emotional/soft side with his more rational, I have to do what is necessary side. Personally I also empathise with Mace a whole bunch because I also have quite a large rational side, which is a plus. I tend to think that he usually knows what he needs to do and he might dislike it, but he will still do it. I just love Mace, okay, and of course I’m overwriting shitty fanon Mace Windu because no he doesn’t hate Anakin, and yes he loves Depa so much that when she didn’t give him a hug he was super depresso. He’s just so sweet, but he knows that sometimes shit has to be done and moping around complaining won’t make anything better. Luminara is just sweet. I want to write so much more for her, but I tend to have her as a side character in my fics (a tragedy I know) but I am working on making her more of a main character is some fics. She’s very much like Mace in that she understands that sometimes to do the right thing, you must sacrifice stuff that you love which is commendable imo. She also loves Barriss very much and I headcanon that she and Obi-Wan are best buds. She and Obi-Wan definitely geek out about the stupidest shit, you can’t change my mind. 

2.  Is there a least favorite character or title you dislike writing for?

Uhh... typically I tend to avoid characters who I don’t want to write because i find it difficult to write them and not enjoyable. But I’ll share a few for this sake. Palpatine kinda makes me feel slimy when I write him. It can be fun to write crack Palpatine, but realistic trying to write him can be a nightmare for me. I don’t really know how to write manipulative sheev well, so I feel it ends up very much crackfic feelings. 

Anakin is also difficult, but sometimes I enjoy the challenge. He can be pretty complex to some, but for me the pain is trying to write his priorities because christ he can’t get them straight at all. Post!aotc Anakin is obviously placing Padmè VERY high (at the top lmao) but not really because if it were that he’d leave the order to be with her. Idk I get very confused writing him. I also feel very apprehensive posting stuff with Anakin because I know a lot of people love him and have somewhat specific (typically fanon) ideas about him and also have very strong feelings about those. I’m not saying you can’t have them, but sometimes I worry that I’ll be attacked because my view on Anakin is far from friendly lmao. Tbh Padmè suffers similarly because I don’t know how to write her without being mean xD. I don’t really understand many of her motivations surrounding the secret marriage and shit and her prioritisation is also strange. I mean the whole ignoring the Tusken massacre basically and only turning from Anakin after Anakin tells his part in breaking the Republic (not listening to Obi-Wan say he killed Jedi) makes it ahrd to sympathise. Fandom has a typically positive view of her and I don’t want to anger anyone with my views, so I try to keep a somewhat ambivalent take with her. I haven’t written anything starring her/them together much so yeah. 

I actually like writing Ahsoka because she’s pretty cool, but I’m very nervous posting stuff about her post wrong Jedi arc because I think my views on it are pretty unpopular, and some of her fans are very... vehement about their views which is fine as logn as you’re not trying to invalidate my interpretation you know? Kind of makes me sad since I do love her character, but sometimes her fans put me off. 

Idk if this counts but also romance. Personally never really had a great one, so I don’t understand how to properly write it which makes it hard, and I don’t see the draw of it. I tend to both read and write platonic stuff. Lots of gen for me :)

15. What made you start to write fanfiction/stories?

I think @jedimasterbailey said she started writing Luminara stuff/fanfic in general because of the amount of Luminara slander and I kind of do the same but for jedi hate in general. Also, more specifically, Mace Windu hate. It just grinds on my nerves, but I’m not going to sit here and say people can’t write what they do, so yeah I just started writing my own to hopefully inspire others to do the same, or to just shove more pro Jedi shit out there ahaha. I’ve actually gotten a few comments of people saying that my fics have made them like/appreciate Mace a bit more which means a lot since he’s one of my favourite characters. 

More than that, thought, I just enjoy fanfic. I had loads of ideas for stories from multiple fandoms and I thought I might start posting some of them because they’re doing nothing just chilling in my drive. Also all the lovely writers of fic in multiple fandoms inspired me, so thanks to you I kind of got the courage to actually upload anything :)

22. Care to share any future WIP ideas you have lined up?

Ooh boy I got loads heheh. But I’ll talk of a few. So I had this idea about a time travel au (I know so original xD) and it was supposed to be Obi-Wan going back in time, but I actually wanted to kind of combine two different ideas, one being Ahsoka as Obi-Wan’s padawan, and a time travel au to one. So yeah... I have a fic in the works about an Ahsoka who travels back right after Vader kills her on Malachor (no Ezra saving her) and who becomes Obi-Wan’s padawan. This one’s a bit in the begining so it will probably be a while before anything’s posted, but if you want to send some kind of help for it I would appreciate a lot. This will probs be my first really longer fic, so I’m worried I’ll lose motivation which is why I’m going to plan it a bit more than most of my other stuff. I’m so excited because the idea has been bouncing around my head for so long!!!

I have another that is much closer to finishing which is a little 5+1 fic about Obi-Wan and the name Ben. I want to change a few things before posting but it should be coming around soon. It’s a little angsty, but mostly fluff.

Last one I’ll talk about, I promise haha. This one is a little uncertain of when I’ll finish because it’s somewhat written out, but the last bit is KILLING me. It’s an essay style writing up of order 66 and the empires rise. Kind of examining public opinion and stuff about it. Basically exploring how the genocide has affected the universe. It is written after the empire falls, so it talks a bit about the shitty Empire and propoganda and is just a pro jedi love letter xD

#long post #ask game