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goth-cowgirl-03 · 2 years

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That blue 1979 camaro

Warning: mention of character death, smoking, let me know if there's more.

-three months after billy’s death-

Three months had passed since the incident happened in Hawkins. Everyone was trying to get back to normal. Max became quiet after Billy’s death, most of her friends noticed this as the mouths passed. The school was buzzing around with the news of a new family moving into town, whispers could be heard as the three girls walked in. Two of which had their mothers hair of the red orange color, and the other was black haired beauty. Her jeans had grease and dirt laid on them, whereas her shirts had holes with safety pins holding the hole slightly closed, with the graphics of a rock band. The red heads were always wearing dresses, a complete contrast to their sister. The red heads were happy to make new friends, as they did so quickly. As for the other one, she kept to herself, sitting outside smoking, or in the library reading some type of book. Her black hair fell around her head as she leaned over the table, the curls on her head framed her face. After about a week, the red heads had become more popular than they thought, as for the sister she was labeled a loner not that she minded. One afternoon, Max found herself riding past a junkyard, pulling to the side, looking towards where Billy’s car had been sitting. Her lips formed a frown upon seeing someone working on the car, The person’s body leaning over the side in towards the engine. Her ears picked up the sound of music coming from a small black boombox laying on the ground not far from the car. Watching the person work, when they had pushed themselves up from their spot. Max looked at the new girl, as she worked now knowing who it was. Leaving before she saw her, Max went home. Over the weekend, her mind kept replaying the moment.

About two weeks ago, The black haired girl found herself walking around Hawkins Backroad near the junkyard, when she spotted a car cover, laying over something. Her sister’s behind her talking about anything they could think of, as they followed her under their mother’s orders. Walking closer to the tarp, running her hand along the shape and curve of the car hidden underneath it. Walking back to the front of it, her hands reached for the edge of the tarp, only getting to pull slightly, when the voice of her younger sister sounded. “Sis, no. Mom said, ``No car for you.” Looking back to her younger sisters, her static face, then proceeds to remove the cover. Finding a 1979 chevrolet camaro z-28 in the color of a dark shiny blue, again running her fingers along the paint job. She noted that someone took care of it differently. Pulling on the handle, the door popped open, as dust partols, taking a seat in the driver seat. She looked around for keys, opening the glove box, then the sun visor with the dropping sound of keys into her lap. She packed them and jangled them in the air at her sisters. Who looked at it with a worried face. Placing the key into the ignition, turning the key slightly with the sound of the engine. A small smile formed on her lips, and she felt the vibes in the steering wheel. “Are you getting in or what?” she called to her sisters, who started making their way over to the passenger side. Smirking, as she looked at them, as she pulled the door shut. “Now, you both are about to find out why mom hates it when I have a car.” She spoke in a playful manner towards them, there was a hint of displeasure. Stepping on the gas, the back wheel sped out of its spot that it was parked in for the past three months.

After the weekend, Max sat outside of the high school with Dustin, and the rest of the hellfire club. Her mind playing over the girl who was working on her brother's car, she looked over towards the twin sisters of the older girl, as they talked with their friends. As more kids came out of their cars, talking loud, as down the road the sound of the blue camaro could be heard. Some stopped talking as the blue car pulled into the parking lot, with its music blurring so loud enough that it would make you go deaf, the sound of the song ‘Magic Man’ by heart blasted from the speakers. Max watched as the car was driven just like Billy would have, when a leather boot stepped out, most of the girls looked thinking maybe it was back. But as their eyes trailed up the blue jean leg, they found grease, dirt, and hole showing a pale leg under the holes in the jeans. Her hair blowing in the soft fall breeze, as she leaned against the car. Max's eyes stayed on the older girl, watching her as she wrote in her book, that laid on her arm. She felt eyes on her, as she continued to write. Looking up to find a small red staring at her with unshed tears in the corners of her eye. Making a hand motion for the girl to come towards her, Max swallowed hard, as she made her way over to the older girl. Once in front of the black hair woman, tears slowly fell from Max's eyes. “Sweetheart, you ok?.” Her voice was soft as she spoke to Max, nodding. Max looked at the car then back at the woman. “This was my brother’s car, no one drove it after he died.” Max’s voce broke as she spoke, with tears running down her. The girl pulled a piece of cloth from back pocket, holding it out to her. “Well, I didn’t know that. But if it hurts that much I can take it back where I found it or you can have it.” Max looked to the car then back at the older girl standing in front of her. Shaking her head, no. “No, he would be mad if I let it sit in the junkyard, at least someone driving like he would.” Smiling at the young girl, she held her hand out towards her. “My name is Joan, what’s yours?.” Joan asked the redhead in front of her, Max looked up towards her. “I’m Max.” Max took a hold of Joan’s hand, shaking it. Joan’s sisters watched as their sister finally made a friend, even if it was the sister of the dead guy car she drove now. Joan smiled at the girl, as they began talking about other stuff.

Weeks passed as Joan and Max became closer each day. Joan would pick Max up for school, and take her to hang with her friends for the day. Today, Joan was cleaning out the car of all the trash, and dirty clothes from time spent working at the junkyard. As Joan was pulling stuff out of the truck, she found a small box in the back. Pulling it closer, she popped the lids open, finding a jean jacket. Pulling it out of the box, she held it up in the air looking at it. She noted that it was a men's jacket, as she began pulling it over her arms, her hand ran down the front stopping at the pocket at the top, pulling out a pack of smokes. Popping one in her mouth, her other hand pulled her lighter from her back pocket, moving to light the smoke. Taking a breath in, and letting it out slowly, she looked back in the box, there lay a necklace of pendant with what looked to be the virgin mary, placing it in her pocket, she continued to look in the box finding the last thing, a pair of earrings. Walking back to the driver's door, Joan sat in her seat looking in the mirror, as she held the earring next to her ear, then placed them in. Bringing the necklace out, holding it in her hand, letting it dangle for a moment as she looked at it. She finally brought the chain closer to her neck, undoing the clasp, laying it over her chest, as she clasped it closed. The small oval pendant laid upon her breast was pushed up by a d cup bra. Taking the smoke in her left hand, she started the car with her other. Closing the door, she pulled out of the driveway, the radio blurring. Pulling up to the stop light, Joan laid her head back as ‘fade to black’ played off the cassette tape. Joan was so in her own world that she didn’t notice Max coming out of the VHS store. Max recognized the car instantly, as it sat at the stop light. She looked at the arm sitting on the door, noticing the jacket sleeve as Billy’s old jean jacket. As Joan pulled her head back up the light turned green, giving Max a chance to see her earrings, the same earrings as Billy’s. Her breath caught in her throat at the look Joan had with her clothes. Just the simple things that remained of Billy made Max want to cry. Her friend noticed Max’s attention was elsewhere, following her line of sight. They too seemed to look at Joan, who looked like a female Billy, just with black hair, and makeup. They watched as Joan sped away as the light turned green, her hair blowing in the wind out the window. Max looked away, her face looked as she saw a ghost, but only it was all memories haunting her. Joan found herself driving down a road after the sun fell, and the moon had risen in the sky. The road was dark, but the headlights showed on the ground in front of her, as she sped through the tree lining the sides of the road, going 50 over the limit. When off in the distance, she could see a figure in the distance. As she got closer, slowly did a good bit. She could see the white of the shirt they wore.

A/N: Let me know what you think, I have arleady started writing a part 2, if anyone wants to read it.

#billy hargrove #max mayfield #stranger things #fanfiction #oneshot #there may be a part 2 #billy hargrove x oc

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5ummit · 11 days

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Dune Part 2 + Letterboxd Reviews

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khalliys · 17 days

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We're not so different, you and I. Part 1, Part2

From Critical Role C2 E92: Home Is Where the Heart Is

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hyolks · 7 months

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oh what a lovely family! i sure do hope nothing bad happens to them :')

#fma #fmab #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #edward elric #alphonse elric #trisha elric #<.<..... >.>.......#i may. have a comic. as an oct 3rd post part 2 #except. it is barely sketched out #ive been so busy..... i got out of work the other day and was like sonuvabitch i have two days to crank out something #so teehee :^)#wastelands au

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theology101 · 2 months

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Yo forgive the fact that i recorded this on an iphone in an amc, but can we like… discuss for a second

Feyd-Rautha, if he had a single second to live, would’ve started making out with Paul. This man has never been turned on more in his fucking life then fighting his predestined Cousin-Soulmate over who gets to be the Father of the Kwisach Haderach

You know he was pissed as fuck that Jessica ruined the plan. Man would’ve been SO HYPE to make Super Messiah Babies with Paul(ine)

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jeysuso · 2 years

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#what i wouldn’t give for this man to just fucking punch me

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bookshopbentley · 7 months

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crowley’s love for humanity has got be my favorite thing . he’s seen it all . he’s seen the absolute worst side of it , and he loves it anyways . crowley , you beautiful soul . what a terrible punishment it must be to have a heart that bleeds as much as yours .

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hinamie · 17 days

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the same flame that burns you; birthed you first

#my art #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo #fanart #jjk fanart #tw body image//#ok i have done an entire two part icarian gojo series...can i rest now...am i free........#I rendered all those birds. only 2 remember tht theyre FALLING and i wanted them BLURRY #my details..#screaming crying throwing up etc #i suffer. this is my curse.#in other words i may b an idiot fr that but ! big fan of my me for the juxtaposition between this piece and the last #cold/unnatural/survival vs burning/truth/decay #dare i say i cooked #6 birds to be exact i cooked 6 birds sorry

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 9 days

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Assisting Acquaintance Acquired.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wen ning #wei wuxian #Ignore how Wen Ning's hair looks here because I messed it up. Let's pretend he just sported a different hair style for a brief moment.#I am not exactly great at consistency but I am trying very hard to work on that (immediately messes up again).#Absolutely *love* how Wen Ning clearly remembers and admires WWX...who does *not* recognize him.#This is the best day for Wen Ning and it means *nothing* to WWX. A painful one-sided crush made worse.#It is bittersweet to realize that we care about someone more than they care about us. Sometime we pour love into a relationship-#-with someone who just can't reciprocate. It isn't always a conscious things either. Some people just aren't aware we care.#And painfully - so painfully - You can't make them aware. No act of kindness or gift or self sacrifice will make someone care about you.#You can martyr yourself for someone and they will continue on unchanged.#I think a lot about the parallels between WN and LWJ. Not foils - just reflections. A theme repeated.#People who give so much of themselves to someone who doesn't have the capacity to give any part of themself away.#I will die on the hill of 'Wen Ning would be the love triangle romance if that trope wasn't being avoided'.#And to be honest - thank the stars above that is the case. I do not know any good love triangles in media.#We are skipping some of the sad Jiang Cheng content because I really want to finish season 2 before May.#Sorry JC emo moment lovers...I'll deliver another time.

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plutonicbees · 9 months

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young just us: the game 👾

based off of the scott pilgrim video game, i wanted to play around with the idea of what the yj98 team would look like in the same style.. mostly i just wanted to draw everybody as silly little pixel sprites

(character sprite pngs + mount justice landscape under cut)

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honnelander · 8 months

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busgirl

once again i got carried away and wrote way more than i planned too lol thank you to the lovely anon who requested this and i hope i did your prompt justice request: what if the reader’s a merchant’s daughter who was supposed to marry a suitor but she runs away and ends up meeting sanji

WARNINGS: none

word count: 3.4k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: reader is arranged to be married but she won't stand for it. so what does she do? she runs away and meets one particular chef, begging him for help

masterlist

taglist: @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @amanda08319

You never imagined your life turning out like this: still living with your father at this grown age, never having gone beyond your small island town ever in your life, and waking up every day just to relive the same day over and over again. It was torture.

Every single day of your life has been the same since you left school: you woke up before the sun rose, made breakfast for you and your father, helped prepare the wagon for its daily trip into town, then spend all day yelling in the town's square trying to sell any shoes you could (your father was a shoe merchant), pack up the unsold product at the end of the day, head home, make dinner, then go to bed soon after cleaning up just so you could wake up and do the same things all over again. You hated it.

But what could you really do to change anything? You were born to a poor shoe merchant and ever since your mother had died, things had become even tighter for your small family, of now, two.

Your father never had much, barely a penny to his name, so that meant you also had no money to your name either. Sure, you could've started a side hustle of scams and cons, maybe trying your luck at playing poker at the docks whenever pirates showed up, but how could you just leave your father like that? Just leave him all alone once you scraped together enough berry to buy a one-way ticket out of this town? As much as you were tempted, you couldn't. It didn't feel right. And besides, you were always too exhausted at the end of the day to do anything else anyway.

But then one day, your father said something that would change your life forever.

The day started out like any other. You had cooked a quick meal of toast and eggs for yourselves and once you finished your plate, you moved to get up to put the dishes in the sink for later.

But before you could get out of your seat, your dad grabbed your wrist gently, telling you to stay seated. "Actually, y/n, no need to rush this morning. We're not going into town today."

"What?" You were taken aback. You couldn't remember a day where you both didn't do this daily routine. "Why?"

Your father couldn't look at you in the eye. Instead, he kept his focus on his half-eaten breakfast, which was also weird. He normally finished eating before you. "Y/n...you know I wouldn't do this unless I had no other choice," he started.

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach. What was happening?

"But business has been really slow lately, and I tried to hold this off for as long as I could," he continued.

"Hold what off?"

He kept talking like you hadn't said anything. "But there really was no other choice." He swallowed and finally looked up and the look in his eyes scared you. You've never seen your father look that upset before...the only other time he had looked like that had been when mom died.

You tried to swallow but your mouth was dry. "Dad, what's going on?"

"And you know I always will love you, right?"

"Dad," you said a little more sternly, your heart beating a thousand miles a minute. "What is happening?" After a moment of silence, you repeated yourself. "Dad, answer me."

His next sentence hit you like a ton of bricks. "Y/n, I arranged for you to be married."

You couldn't move. "What?" you breathed.

Like always, your father continued on like you hadn't said a word. "He's a nice man, a decent man. His name is Olaf and he's from the North Blue, comes from money..."

You felt your dad tighten his grip on your wrist and suddenly you felt like you were being suffocated. You ripped your hand away from your dad's grip, the sting of betrayal hurting more than any cut or wound ever could. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you fought your hardest not to let them fall. "You sold me?" your voice quivered.

Those three words finally got your dad's attention. He looked into your eyes again, hurt evident in his gaze, but you realized you didn't care. Not anymore. "No," he replied firmly. "You know I would never sell you to anyone. I would never do that."

A humorous laugh escaped your lips. "Oh? But you'd put me in an arranged marriage instead? For money?" When you blinked, tears fell down your cheeks. "Are we really that poor dad?" you spat.

"Y/n-"

"Why didn't you tell me how bad off we were before? Before-" you stuttered and waved your arms around, "before all of this? I could've- I could've done something, anything." You ran a hand through your hair as you exhaled, a sardonic smile appearing on your face as you looked up to the ceiling, up to whatever God had subjected you to this cruel fate.

"There's nothing you could've done, y/n."

"You don't know that!" you exclaimed. Pure hot red rage adorning your features as your furious eyes snapped down to look at your dad. "I could've hustled, I could've conned the guys down at the dock for some money. I could've done something instead of nothing!"

"And then what? End up dead in a dark alley once those men found out you stole money from them? End up raped?" Your dad's anger matched yours, his voice growing louder with each sentence. "Maybe become a pirate? There is no way I would ever let that happen to you y/n."

Your dad hated pirates and you knew he would rather die before he ever let you become one.

You flung your arms up in exasperation. rolling your eyes as you let out a frustrated groan. "Oh I don't know dad," you yelled, "maybe I could've joined the Marines or something!"

But your dad didn't like the Marines either. He believed pirates and Marines were the same person, just in different clothes.

"I wouldn't let you do that either, you know that y/n."

Suddenly, a thought stuck you: you were an adult, so why was your father still making all of these major life decisions for you? It didn't make sense.

But you knew one thing: you certainly weren't going to marry some rich guy you didn't know from the North Blue. Not if you were still living and breathing.

You glanced at the open window behind your dad, seeing the early morning tinges of a sunrise lighting up the sky. Perfect, you thought. Docked ships normally didn't leave port until the sun broke the horizon, so you had a chance to hop aboard any ship that would take you far far away from here. Away from your miserable life and a father you were realizing you hated.

The sky started becoming brighter by the minute and your heart rate started to spike. You estimated you had around 20 minutes or so until the sunrise broke and if you were serious about running away, it was now or never.

Suddenly, you stood up from the kitchen table and realized that your father had stopped whatever he was saying to look at you with a curious expression.

"Y/n?"

"Y-you know what dad?" your voice shook and you swallowed your nerves. "I...I think you're right? This Olaf guy probably isn't that bad and would probably give me a better life than I ever could," you ground out and forced a smile that you were sure looked more like a grimace. "I'll do it."

If today had been a normal day, your dad would've been tipped off that something was up but he was just so relieved that you were actually agreeing to all this.

Your dad had a relieved smile on his face as he said, "That makes me so happy to hear that y/n. You have no idea."

"Y-yeah, me too," you agreed with a small nod. You reached down to pick up your plates but your hands were shaking.

Your father placed a hand on your arm. "I understand you're nervous sweetheart. Why don't you go lie down in your room? There's some time until Olaf gets here. I can handle the dishes for today."

Perfect. You agreed and nodded quickly. Thanking your dad and giving him one last look before you went up to your room and never saw him again.

--------- -----

Your lungs were burning as you ran towards the docks. You could feel sweat running down your back as you pushed yourself to run as fast as you could, arms pumping and feet kicking out dirt behind you.

The sky was beginning to turn a lighter shade of orange and a ping of fear gripped your heart.

What if you didn't make it? What if all the ships were all boarded up and ready to set sail by the time you got there? It wasn't uncommon for ships to leave a tad early since most of them had a full day at sea before them but you were so close, you just had to make it. There were probably around five minutes or so until you reached the docks and you just had to get over this ridiculous hill.

But your legs were tired and your sides were cramping and you could feel yourself slowing down due to exhaustion. You weren't a huge runner to begin with but you were literally running for your life- so what choice did you have?

If you made it through all this, you vowed to yourself that you would get better at running. Who knew the next time your life would depend on it?

As you reached the top of the hill, you took a quick second to breathe and survey the docks before you but what you saw nearly stopped your heart. There were normally a dozen or so ships that littered these docks but it looked like most of them had headed out early with only a few ships remaining, and the ones that were left? They looked like they were nearly ready to leave port as well.

With newfound urgency, you sprinted down the hill, yelling out to any sailor who would listen to your plea.

"WAIT!" you screamed. "Wait for me!"

But no one acknowledged you. You started to wave your arms around, your travel bag bouncing around as you continued to sprint.

"PLEASE! I beg you!"

As you got closer, you could start to make out the names of the few ships that were there. There was one ship called "The Happy Farewell" and you figured since they were closest you would try them first.

"Get lost girl," the ship's captain sneered. "I got no use for a girl like you."

"But please, I need to leave. You don't understand," you begged.

The captain clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "Don't we all?" he muttered. But he spared you one last glance before boarding his ship and something in your expression must've been wildly desperate because he sighed before nodding towards the ship two docks down. "Zeff's."

"What?"

"Go to Zeff's ship, girl. The Baratie. He doesn't have the heart to turn away desperate souls like yourself."

Your head whipped towards the direction the captain was looking and you saw the decent-sized Baratie standing there.

"But you better hurry," he warned. "They're setting sail as soon as we leave."

You quickly looked back at the captain to thank him but he was already walking up the plank to board his ship, barking out orders to let down the sails and hoist up the anchor.

Shit. You had to hurry.

You sprinted two docks over and once you reached the dock The Baratie was tied to, you saw a couple of men in white coats loading up the last of the crates of food onboard. You had just made it.

It was weird to you that these pirates were dressed up in matching white coats and blue bandanas around their collar but, hey, it could always be worse and you weren't in a position to be picky. You would even join a circus crew at this point.

You made your way over to the closest "pirate", a tall blonde guy that had hair almost covering his left eye. He was inspecting one of the crates, clipboard in hand and checked things off as he examined it.

"Excuse me," you huffed, trying to get this man's attention. "But I need your help. I need to speak to the ship's captain."

"Don't we all," the guy replied with a good-humored laugh and crooked smile, not looking up from his clipboard.

"Please," you urged. "It's important."

The man looked up from his clipboard and did a double-take, clearly not expecting a young woman like yourself, who looked like they just ran away from demons, asking to speak to the captain this early in the morning.

His eyebrows rose as he looked you over, his smile disappearing. "Are you alright Madam? Is something the matter?"

As his eyes scanned you over, you noticed how good-looking this guy was. And here you were, all sweaty and disheveled, your hair probably sticking out in all different directions. You prayed to whatever God was out there that you didn't have sweat stains on your shirt.

What a day this was turning out to be.

You ran your hands over your hair, trying to smooth down your flyaways and hoping you looked a bit more presentable. "I will be alright, when I speak to the captain."

"Anything I can help you with?"

What the- was this guy hitting on you? Your wandering eyes snapped back to look at this man when he asked that, looking to see if he really had the audacity to hit on you while you were begging for help, but you saw no trace of flirtation whatsoever, just concern.

"Ah- no. Unless you have the power to give me a spot on this crew."

The man's eyes lit up (you noticed they were blue). "Ah, so you want to join the Baratie? Become a chef yourself?"

You looked at him in utter confusion, blinking a couple times to make sure you heard him right. "Huh? A chef?" You looked at his outfit a little more closely and turned to examine the other men who were dressed similarly. You didn't notice it before, but they weren't just wearing any white coat, they were wearing a chef's white coat. "You guys are chefs?" you asked dumbly.

The chef, as you now noticed, rubbed his jaw as he tried to hide his smile at your obvious question. "Yes, Madam. We're chefs."

"So you're a pirate chef?"

The blonde cook couldn't hide his laugh at your series of questions, his blue eyes sparkling and white teeth showing like he had just heard the funniest joke. "No, Madam. We're just chefs. Not pirates or pirate chefs."

You felt stupid and felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Oh." But if they were all chefs on this boat, did that mean... "Wait- do I have to be a chef in order to get on this boat?"

"Ah well, if it were up to me," he sighed, "I would give you a spot on the ship regardless if you could cook or not." He twirled the pencil between his fingers as he crossed his arm in thought. "Although, we do need some new waiters. The dining room always seems to be short-staffed..."

You opened your mouth to quickly volunteer yourself even though you never waited tables a day in your life but the blonde chef kept talking.

"Or," he thought out loud," if you really wanted to be a chef with no experience, there are ways you could get into the kitchen. We do need a new busboy. Or girl," he quickly corrected. "Move your way up and learn..."

The sun broke the horizon, the morning orange light now fading into yellow. You swallowed. You were out of time. If you couldn't get a spot on this ship then your life was over.

"I'll do it," you quickly interrupted and nodded. "I'll- I'll do anything. A chef, a waiter, a busboy or busgirl- anything. I'll even clean toilets if I have to. I just- I need to get on this ship."

Your desperate plea silenced the chef, pulling him out of his musings and you could see concern wash over his features. But before he could say anything else, a voice called out from the top of the ship's plank.

"Oi! Sanji! What the hell are you doing down there, son?" the man with a tall chef's hat and braided mustache called out. As he made his way down to the dock, you noticed one of his legs was a wooden peg instead. "The sun's broken the horizon. I don't know how many times I need to tell you this, but next time we pull out of port late, I'm shoving my leg up your ass and you're off the line for a week."

Sanji shook his head, for once not caring about the threat of not cooking, and looked at his father figure, nodding to you. "Zeff, you need to speak to this girl. You have to let her join our crew."

You watched as Zeff followed Sanji's nod and looked down at you with raised eyebrows. It was like he just noticed you were there. "Her? For the last time Sanji, I'm not letting one of your one-night stands join the crew," he said with an exasperated sigh and turned back towards the ship. "Pretty or not."

"Wait!" you called out, grabbing Zeff's arm and immediately dropping it when he turned to look at you in disbelief. "I, I don't know him," you quickly said, pointing at Sanji and taking a big step away from him to prove your point, "My name is y/n and I desperately need a spot on your ship, Sir. Please."

Zeff studied you for a moment, eyes scanning your face. "People like you normally aren't 'desperate' to join my crew."

"But I am, Sir. I," you inhaled a shaky breath at the thought that this man could also turn you away. "I can't stay here. I need to leave. I'll do anything. I can even scrub the toilets."

Zeff regarded you with a short sigh. "Lass, there's no way I would have you scrubbing toilets. I'd make him do that way before asking you," he said and jabbed a thumb at Sanji, silencing Sanji's scoff of disbelief with a look. His face became serious as he asked, "You're serious aren't you?"

You nodded. "As serious as I can be sir."

The head chef became quiet, looking at you like he was trying to figure out what you were running away from, but it wasn't any of his business. At the end of the day, everyone had a past and he wasn't there to judge.

"Alright, lass, you want a position at my restaurant that badly? You got it. Your first service as a busboy- girl, whatever- starts tonight." He pointed a finger at you and with a stern voice asked, "Everyone on this ship earns their keep, alright? And no talking back. Understood?"

Relief flooded your veins at his words, you couldn't control the smile that stretched your cheeks as you nodded. "Yes, chef."

The corner of Zeff's mouth twitched upwards in amusement and he nodded once. "Good." As he turned around to head back onto the ship, he glanced at Sanji. "I like this girl. Wherever you found her...good job, son." He started walking back up the plank onto the ship and called out, "Get those last few crates up on here, boy. We got to leave, we have a dinner service tonight!"

You frowned as you watched Zeff walk away, a little annoyed at the thought that 'Sanji found you' instead of you finding him. When you looked over at Sanji, you saw him still watching Zeff make his way up the plank, beaming slightly at the head chef's praise.

"You didn't find me. I found you," you said to your newest crewmember.

Sanji looked over at you, a small mischievous smile on his face. "And aren't you glad you did?"

Before you could correct him or slap him, you heard Zeff calling out to you from the ship's deck. "Oi! Y/n! What are you doing down there? I'm not paying you to just stand there all day with Sanji! There's a pile of dirty dishes with your name on them in the sink."

"What? Already?" you grumbled as made your way up the plank to board the ship.

From behind you, you could hear Sanji's laughter and you could hear it until you made your way inside.

#sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji x y/n #opla!sanji x reader #opla!sanji #one piece x reader #one piece live action #one piece fanfiction #sanji live action #opla #i loved how this turned out tbh #i may make a part 2 #just imagine the potential #thank you to the anon that requested this!

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cupcakeslushie · 1 year

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Thirds

pt 1 || pt 2

Donnie thinks he knows what he has to do reconcile Three with Donatello. To leave everything from that time behind and move on, but…maybe there’s a simpler solution?

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanart #separated au #rottmnt separated au #rise of the tmnt #sep!au life #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise raph #rise mikey #rise splinter #tw blood #tw self harm #Donnie’s been having too much fun. he needed some heavy h/c #this one is gonna be dark so if anyone needs me to tag anything else please let me know #I would like to say #Donnie’s dialogue may imply some DID but it’s just because he wants to put distance between his time as Three and Donatello #but this whole thought process will be addressed in part 2 #I just wanted to clear that up in case

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mutantmayhems · 3 months

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MUTANT MAYHEM + LETTERBOXD REVIEWS Part 1/?

#be on the lookout for part 2 (which i will make. i promise.)#animationsdaily #animationsource #dailyanimatedgifs #dailyflicks #filmtvdaily #animationedit #cinemapix #tmntedit #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles mutant mayhem #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt mutant mayhem #tmntmm #tmnt mm #may makes #mm #mutant mayhem letterboxd reviews #mutant mayhem

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punkkrat · 4 months

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Og sketch (may 2022)

#og yoshiden redraw #the first drawing is from may 2022. part 2 wasnt even out yet #anon who asked about yoshiden the other week this is for you #my art #bandaid propaganda #chainsaw man #csm #denji #yoshida #yoshiden #i haven't really had the inspiration tp draw anything besides comms (and even then....) so I'm sticking to redraws

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rboooks · 10 months

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The Adoptive Son. Part 2

Dick tries his best to keep his smile as Danny Crowne fumbles with his laptop, attempting to show Dick all the fantastic features he programmed onto it.

Don't be wrong; he enjoys new software, and the stuff Crowne made was awe-inspiring. He just wished it wasn't being used for one of his most disgusting crimes.

Babs, who was recently super into coding, had been all but foaming at the mouth when she got access to the new writing application Crowne Industries put out.

Yes, she got access a bit earlier than most since she hacked into the system attempting to find evidence of criminal activity, but she had tested it out and wanted it for herself.

"This writing program has an automatic save option after a certain amount of time goes by." Crowne blushes a little, looking bashful when Dick sends him a winning smile. "I-ugh, I forget how often computers crash, taking with them hours of work, so hopefully, this will help tired college students. It even has a way to retrieve lost files, just in case something does get deleted."

"Wow, you made all this by yourself? That's so impressive." Dick purrs, allowing his hand to land on Crowne's knee. The other man jumps slightly, looking down at the hand like he's never seen one before. At least this mission was easy.

Crowne's had plenty of people flirt with him over the years of his adoption. Dick had watched him at galas, sidestepping any courtship attempts like a well-practiced waltz. He charmed so many would-be suitors simply by his prince-like mannerism, silver tongue, dripping good looks, and of course, very large wallet.

He had thought it meant that Crowne was experienced in this sort of thing. Imagine his surprise at the beginning of the mission; Crowne fumbled through his flirtations and seemed so awkward it was almost endearing.

Danny Crowne didn't make much sense to Dick in this way.

He quickly became one of Gotham's most eligible bachelors and one of the first openly bisexual ones. Despite his adoptive parents less than ideal views on the gay community, Crowne never hid that part of himself. Once he had taken over the company, he had even gotten charities set up to support the gay youths of Gothams. He practically funded the Pride Celebrations, even more than Bruce, which showed how he became the new head of Crowne Industries

In four short years, he had snatched the company from the jaws of bankruptcy and dragged it to the top again. Everything they made was so revolutionary, even Bruce had been tempted to ask Crowne to join him for the first two years.

Back then, Dick had thought Crowne was weird.

All the guy did was talk about tech, and when he wasn't, he was staring into space or attempting to get into different equipment so he could take it apart and figure it out.

Crowne had been invited to his birthday party a few months after his adoption. Dick had seen him arrive, but he vanished from the room not long after- at the time, he didn't blame the other. The rest of their classmates were snobbish and a pain to be around- he later found Crowne pulling out one of his light sockets to check the wiring in Bruce's house.

It may have been the cheap light he was using, but Dick swore he had seen the guy's eyes glowing while he muttered to himself in an unknown language.

The Crownes had been mortified, forcing Crowne to apologize profoundly for ripping Bruce's things. Bruce had to play his part of Brucie, so he had laughed it off, asking the boy why he had done it in the first place.

" I meant no offense. I apologize for allowing my curiosity to cross a line. I was only interested in how advanced your home is. I figured the Wayne's would indicate where the world's leading systems would be." Fourteen-year-old Danny Crowne had told Bruce with a sweet smile that was far too wide and eyes that were far too bright.

It creeped fourteen-year-old Dick out so much he actively avoided the adoptive son of the Crowne for the last four years.

Now he wishes he had paid a little more attention. Maybe then he would have caught on to Crowne selling street kids on the black market.

"It's nothing, really." Crowne laughs nervously, flushing read as Dick gently rubs his knee. He smirks inwardly as the other man fumbles. "I couldn't have done it without Tim so-"

"Tim?" That's a new name. Dick quickly pressed the recording device that Bruce had installed into his bracelet. He hated that he was working with his ex-mentor again, but this was too big of an issue to allow his hurt feelings to get in the way. There were so many kids at stake.

"Tim Drake. His parents are out of the country a lot, so I started babysitting him when he was eight. He's thirteen now, but I got temporary guardianship of him when I turned eighteen. He's my pride and joy. " Crowne clarifies with a growing smile. Dick wanted to punch his teeth in for acting so loving, so caring, so fucking kind when it came to children.

He swallows the urge with incredible difficulty. "He sounds great."

He did know Timothy Drake, actually. The boy was his neighbor for years but didn't stand out much. He always looked like a little doll at the galas, vanishing from sight once his parents' backs were turned.

Dick often thought the boy was out of the country with his parents, primarily when they enrolled him in homeschool when he turned eight.

To think the Drakes were working on making a good relationship with Crowne since he first showed up, and no one within the Bats noticed. It was a little troubling.

Were the Drakes involved with the trafficking ring? Were the world trips just a means to smother out poor victims? Were they using their son, or was Tim Drake part of the scheme?