#Helen Sharp is a smoker
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Helen Sharp is a smoker. Send post.
#whether it’s because she’s at a social event and needs something to do with her hands#or because she’s anxious and needs a distraction#or it’s social smoking#or she’s alone on a roof top#because she needs to think and watch the smoke swirl helps her relax#she has smoked#she will smoke#Helen Sharp is a smoker#Madeline less so#it’s a social thing#if someone has one out she’ll share with them#but she rarely buys her owns#only when she visits her family does she smoke#only then#because they stress her tf out#helen sharp#madhel#death becomes her#madeline ashton#death becomes her musical#jennifer simard#mine
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Famous Last Words
CisFem Reader x Trafalgar Law
CW: Violence, swearing, mature themes, erotic romance, angst, creative use of devil fruits, this story is still in progress, I will add content warnings as needed.
Summary: You're the only person who knows the face of an infamous murderer. The Marines have put you in witness protection while they track down the criminal, and you now exist as Arcadia Helen Mercia - a humble accountant with no ties to the North Blue.
** PLEASE NOTE ** - The reader has a Cover Name, and that is used at the beginning of the story, but you are still (Y/N), and you'll see (F/N) (L/N) and (Y/N) used later in the story. THIS IS NOT AN OC STORY - I needed a "false" name for the fact that you've been given a protective identity.
This is a Band AU & Soul Mate AU - some variables in the story were decided by poll votes on tumblr xD so buckle up.
Chapter 1: Fake Your Death
Your life had been turned upside down when you were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Well, as far as the Marines were concerned, you were in the right place at the right time, because you were a key witness to a murder.
You had been lamenting the latest failed relationship of your short life, and had gone on a walk. In your depression you walked an incredible distance from your home, and it took hours for you to get back. By the time you had even gotten anywhere near home the sun had set.
You hadn’t considered a taxi because you didn’t really have any money on you in the first place. The buses were an option, but again, money, and more than that, you didn’t like buses. You were rarely a fan of people as a general rule, and people on buses could be… unique.
When you heard odd sounds coming from an alley you had every intention of not paying attention, but your senses were on edge the minute the sun had set. You heard everything. You heard names that were carved into your heart from the fear that accompanied them. You knew someone was going to be killed for their mistakes, and you were acutely aware that there wasn’t anything you could do to stop it.
After the sharp sounds of silenced shots sliced through the air you had stepped back against the build and tucked yourself into the darkest shadow you could find. It seemed to take the killer forever to come out of the alley, and it was everything you had to keep yourself silent. You willed your breath into nothing, and stilled your heart with a strength you didn’t know you had.
Desperation saved you. Fear froze you - searing every terrible detail into your mind, never to be forgotten.
You didn’t move until you were certain he was gone. You barely allowed yourself to breathe until you were fully convinced that there was no other living thing in the entire city but you. You wanted to bolt to your apartment, but something compelled you to stand at the edge of the alley, and call the Marines.
Minutes later there were a dozen lights, and twice as many people. A tall man with white hair and a gruff disposition had made contact with you first, before handing you off to a subordinate. Officer Tashigi was nice, and calm. She let you cry, and stare off into nothing for as long as you needed, never once rushing you as you gave your statement.
You spent the night at the station, and most of the day asleep in Officer Smoker’s office. Too tired to even try to get home, especially after a long night of paperwork and questions. You still didn’t have money on you, and that’s how you ended up sleeping on the small sofa in his office. Well, that and you were adamantly against leaving Smoker’s side for a few hours.
The marine seemed to understand what you were going through and provided you with a pillow and a blanket, and then woke you up with a cup of bad coffee and a donut.
Your lack of funds, and your trauma response, saved your life.
When Smoker drove you home, you noticed the window was broken in your apartment. He accompanied you inside and found your place had been tossed. Beyond tossed, it was like someone tried to just demolish the entire space. Black ink was smeared everywhere, and in a few places there was a symbol that meant nothing to you, but everything to Smoker.
He pulled you out of the apartment and drove you somewhere safe right then and there. You spent time moving from safe house to safe house; you traveled by boat, carriage, car and cart. You even got to ride on a dirigible, and you couldn’t imagine the cost of that trip. Your identity was changed, so was your appearance – at least superficially.
Hair was dyed, and you had to deal with contacts for a while to have different colored eyes. You had shoes with lifts inside of them, to make you taller, and your clothes were shifted out for a completely different style. It rankled you a bit, but those changes only persisted for a few months as you were bounced around.
Smoker realized that you were the only person that had seen the serial killer’s face, and lived to tell the tale. They needed you alive, and even more than that Smoker promised you would be safe. Keeping you safe meant making you disappear into the sea of people that existed while they tracked down the man you had seen.
Weeks turned to months, months turned into two years.
You had calmed down after the first year. You trusted your instincts, and you no longer nearly leapt out of your skin at every snap or scuffle. You had a job, and your own place. You knew you could be moved away in a blink, but you were settling into a comfortable routine. You’d even made friends with some of the people at work.
You were allowed to live, you just had to be careful. No reacting to your old name. No talking about your hometown. No mentions of anything about your old life. You had to exist as Arcadia Helena Mercia. You almost grumbled you hadn’t even gotten to pick the name, but technically, you hadn’t picked your birthname either.
The only thing making it all easier was that you hadn’t left anyone behind. Your parents had passed away when you were in college, and it was why you hadn’t completed your degree. Arcadia had, however, she had an Associates in mathematics – and sometimes you felt a little sour that one aptitude test by the Marines was enough to effectively earn you a degree.
But (Y/N) didn’t have a degree. It was just another layer to keep you awash in a sea of people. Officially, (Y/N) died in a tragic boating accident, her poor corpse lost at the bottom of the North Blue never to be recovered.
Arcadia existed – born and raised no less – in the West Blue. Went to a school on an academic island, and then attended college in the Grand Line. Afterward she found a job in the East Blue, and that’s where you were now. Three places you only knew briefly as you’d been moved around, and half of what you knew of them had to be provided to you in files.
The irony being that Arcadia was a damn sight better at having a life than (Y/N) had been. Your better job had removed a lot of stress from your life, and the lack of stress made it easier to interact with your coworkers. You made friends, and because you were keeping a low profile you weren’t trying to find any romantic partners anyway. Everything was almost relaxing.
Part of you wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of going back to your old life, but you couldn’t worry about tomorrow. It could take the Marines years to find the killer, and as long as you kept up your end of the bargain, you wouldn’t get jerked around all the seas. There was some irony to it all.
“Oi, Dia, are you even listening?” A demanding, but concerned, woman’s voice snapped you out of your waltz down memory lane and you turned toward the source.
“Sorry, Nami, I spaced out. What did you say?” You smile turning toward the orange-haired coworker of yours. Nami was in sales. You, little mathematician that you were, were in accounting. It wasn’t a terribly glorious job, but it was a job that kept your human interactions limited, and kept your refrigerator full of food.
“I got tickets to Your Synthetic Enchantment.” She explains, pulling a few tickets from her pocket. “Vivi, Zoro, Sanji, Luffy and I were going to go. I remember you enjoying their music, you want the last ticket?”
You did, but crowds weren’t really your vibe. “Yes… and no.” You admit with a sheepish smile.
“Look, with Zoro there I promise no one will bother us. He’s got like an aura of intimidation.” She says it with a teasing smile, but you also know she’s not wrong. Zoro scared you the first time you met him, but he’s a solid guy. In more ways than one – he was at least 80% muscle by volume.
“Is it going to be televised?” You question. You’d confided in Nami a little bit about yourself. You had played it off as a seriously persistent stalker ex, and Nami, Vivi and Robin had turned into protective sisters. They even did shopping for you from time to time so you didn’t develop any routines. You cried when they made the offer – it was nice to have people willing to go out on a limb for you, but also some of your tears were guilt.
You wished you could be completely honest, but it would be as bad for them as it would for you.
Shortly after that, Nami introduced you to Sanji, Zoro, Luffy and Franky. She called them the Line Backers. Luffy decided you were friend-shaped almost immediately, and Sanji seemed to be enamored with everyone he ever met. Zoro nearly made you wilt, but once you realized he just had a semi-permanent scowl as his default expression, it was easier to talk to him. Franky was the coolest of the bunch.
He had an old punk kind of vibe and towered over everyone. Franky owned a motorcycle shop, and did a lot of custom work and repairs, but the shop itself was like a fortress. Apparently, he’d outfitted it to be a kind of bunker, for no other reason than sheer boredom.
Nami shakes her head. “I checked three times to be sure.” She assures you. “None of the World Heart Infection tour dates are going to be televised. It’s supposed to be more intimate for the fans I guess?”
“World Heart Infection? Are they hoping to meet their soul mates or something?” You nearly snort.
Nami shrugs. “Maybe? Can you blame them?”
You smile and sigh. “Ah, how could I forget, the lovely Miss Nami has found her soulmate, after all.”
Nami beams. “I’m telling you. You just know.”
“So I’ve heard.” Your smile doesn’t falter. “But the statistics.”
Nami rolls her eyes. “You’re such a math nerd, I swear.”
You laugh. “That’s fair. But, no, I would love to go. I haven’t been to a concert in ages, and I do really like their music. It’d be a treat to see them live.” You admit, taking the offered ticket. “Are we meeting somewhere and going as a group?”
“Of course!” She replies. “I’m not going to drag you to a crowded place without making sure you’re properly protected. We’re meeting up at Franky’s shop a couple hours before the start of it. Sanji’s going to feed everyone, and then we’ll pile into a couple cars and head to the venue.”
“Nami.”
“Yes?”
“Nami, these are backstage passes!” You hiss the words, trying not to shout in surprise.
Nami’s usual cat-like smile turns even more cat-like than you’d ever seen it before. “Luffy’s friends with the lead singer.” She nearly squeals the words, keeping her voice as low as possible. Your eyes go wide.
“Are you kidding me?” You ask and Nami shakes her head.
She leans in closer after looking around. “His sister is Uta, remember?” She explains. “He traveled with her a few times during her earlier tours and knows a ton of big artists because of it. I guess someone was harassing the band and Luffy just laid them out – well, Luffy and Uta’s manager Shanks. I swear those two should’ve gotten into boxing or something, they would’ve made bank.”
“Wow.” You say it legitimately. “Luffy’s full of surprises.”
Nami smiles and nods. “Okay, it’s three weeks from now, let me know if something comes up.” She taps the ticket. “Vivi and I were going to get outfits for the concert next weekend, you want to come with us?”
You nod, not wanting to decline. The best person to go clothes shopping with was Nami – it was uncanny the deals she ended up getting. “That sounds good. I don’t know that I have anything to wear as it is.”
“Hey, are you okay?” Nami questions, putting a hand on your shoulder.
You give her a proper smile. “Yeah, it’s just… two years ago today.”
“Ah. Oh sweetie, I’m sorry.” She leans forward giving you a hug and patting your hair. “We can go out tonight and grab some drinks. I can text Vivi and Robin, I’m sure one of the line-backers will be available too.”
You laugh a little despite it all. “That’s not a bad idea. Ah, but F-Franky or Zoro. I don’t know that I have the energy for Sanji tonight.”
Nami pats the top of your head before stepping back. “If I have to resort to Sanji, I’ll keep him on his best behavior.”
#Famous Last Words#Trafalgar Law x reader#x reader#reader insert#trafalgar d water law#band AU#Soul Mate AU
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Time and space: Actor Colin O’Donoghue
The star of hit television show Once Upon a Time on living between Ireland and Canada, his pizza oven and the importance of having a sharp knife
Home will always be Ireland. When I was filming on Once Upon a Time, the television series in which I played the character of Hook, for six years, I spent about nine months of each year in Vancouver. My house in Ireland [where he lives with his wife, Helen, and two children] is in the countryside, not far from the Irish Sea. It used to be the postmaster’s house and is like two houses connected by a glass box. So, there’s the older side of the house and the newer one.
How did you find the house? My dad used to be an estate agent and, when we were trying to find a place, he advised us to take a look at a lot of properties. He said: “The house will let you know if it’s the right one for you.” As soon as we came in here we pictured ourselves having coffee and breakfast and all that kind of stuff. We loved everything about it.
Sometimes an older house needs a lot of work, but we bought it as-is from the previous owner, who worked in interior design or architecture and had renovated and extended. I like to do DIY but, because I was filming in Canada at the time, we just didn’t have the time to think about renovating a place or even building our own. We are lucky that we came across this, and absolutely adore it.
How would you describe your decorative style? It’s sort of mismatch. I like antiques, so we have a lot of older things. I’m a sucker for limited-edition things and I’m crazy about guitars — I used to play in a band and love the look and shape of them — so there are guitars around the house.
I really love art, too — I was going to go to art college at one stage. I buy pieces that speak to me. I don’t like one specific style, it depends on what I’m getting from the piece when I see it. I appreciate that somebody has taken time and effort, really thought about and put their emotions into a work. If I see something I like, I’ll pick it up from wherever we are filming. I just had an original piece of native art I bought in Vancouver framed.
Where do you spend most of your time? In the kitchen to be honest, pretty much the same as every Irish family. We have a back room that’s slightly bigger, so we spend a lot of time in there, too, and light the fire on cold days. It can be very cosy.
What was your worst house experience? I never had one. I moved in with my brother, when I moved from Drogheda to Dublin to go to college in the 1990s. He is older than me, was working and was sharing a house with a couple of his friends. They were between four and eight years older than me, they all had jobs and it was a nice house. I was lucky in that respect. I’m quite clean, not obsessively so, but I don’t think that I’d be able to stand being an absolute squatter. I’d have to tidy up.
Do you garden? We’ve been growing some vegetables with the kids in the garden since the start of lockdown which has been great. They get to see it grow and water them each day. It is a really nice thing to do.
What kind of gadgets do you have? My favourite gadget at the minute is an outdoor pizza oven. I don’t know if technically it’s a gadget, but I pretty much use it every week. I’ll make my own pizza dough and pizza sauce. It is wood-fired, so you have to do the whole ritual of lighting the fire and waiting for the pizza stone to heat up. I just got a wood smoker, as well, for smoking large chunks of meat.
What items would you take with you if you had to move overnight? It probably would be the pizza oven because I absolutely love making pizzas. There’s one painting that I would definitely take. Anthony Hopkins painted it and gave it to me when we filmed The Rite, my first film, in 2010.
Is there anything you travel with that makes you feel centred? I always take a photograph of my family. If they’re not travelling with me, I put it beside the bed, just to feel like they’re there. The last couple of places I’ve rented while on location — we filmed my latest television series The Right Stuff, in which I play American test pilot Gordon Cooper, over five months in Florida — have had terrible knives. It’s important to have a really sharp knife in the kitchen. How do you cook with blunt knives? If I’m going to be there for a long time, I’ll probably buy a sharp knife.
O’Donoghue stars in The Right Stuff, a television series based on the Tom Wolfe book of the same name which charts the early days of the American space race, available on Disney Plus
Link: https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/time-and-space-actor-colin-odonoghue-5nnd3m2zm
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