#and just throw together a deck based on that

[rubys-domain]

I finally got to play tcg with my bf. we'd been talking about doing it for a hecking while. now that it finally happened though... idk if I should be surprised that shoddy internet got in the way (as usual. it's always fucked things up when trying to do things together remotely). which lowered the mood a little bit. and I kept winning because it was literally his first time playing tcg after he did the tutorial like three weeks ago. and I guess I've gotten somewhat decent at deckbuilding at this point. first I used my trusty bennett-fischl-chong deck, then it soon became clear that there was no way in hell he'd win against that team. (he also really wants to use only the chibi characters and monsters, which means he won't be using a lot of the busted cards.) so for the rest of the matches I went with a sucrose-oceanid-kaeya deck. obviously I still put thought into that comp (because I'd feel bad using an actual random bullshit deck — I didn't want to make it look like I was looking down on him or something), but still way easier to beat than the first comp (at least I think it is). but he kept losing to that deck too.

he's definitely not the sore loser type, and he didn't seem all that bummed by not getting a single win. he was pleased that he actually killed one of my characters in the very last game, and he told me in jest that he would "have his revenge" in a rematch someday. I just feel bad for absolutely ripping him to shreds even though I didn't intend to. and because I realized the absolutely massive knowledge gap between us. he just needs to get familiar with what different effects/passives do and how they manifest, and learn the logic behind choosing a team comp (how each character would contribute, what rotation to use, the fact that this game relies on rotations at all, etc.) and choosing action cards for said comp. stuff that he's definitely no stranger to because he plays gwent and loves card games in general. I really do think he can kick my ass in this game; he just isn't familiar with all the things yet. and now I kinda want to think about how I would teach a complete noob how to play tcg. like yeah there's the in-game tutorial that teaches you the basic mechanics, but it doesn't at all teach you how to build an effective deck. you can't just throw big dps's in the same deck and expect to have a good time (flashbacks to when I ran a yae-zhongli-xiao deck to grind proficiency... *shudders*). you either have supports that help your main damage dealer survive and do more damage for big numbers (hypercarry), or you have multiple smaller damage dealers that can buff each other's damage via reactions to consistently chip away at the enemy's health (quickswap). it's very similar to the base game in that respect.

[msfantasy-anime]

That’s my Wife you Jerk!

Monkey D. Luffy x Reader

Request: Luffy rescues his wife from the Big Mom pirates

Warning: based on whole cake island arch. Do not proceed if you do not want spoilers.

Part V

Now looking back, you could kick yourself silly for not taking Luffy up on his offer to join his crew when you had the chance.

In your fears of being chased and caught by the marines, you denied your a chance for adventure with the Straw Hat pirates.

It was so fun being with them that night. Why did you refuse Luffy’s offer?

Now you get to bask in your regret after having been chased and caught by the Big Mom pirates.

Standing before the pirate emperor, you wished you hadn’t gone aboard the merchants ship, when instead, you could’ve been on the thousand sunny, sipping cocktails and sunbathing on the deck grass.

A long fight later, and the merchants ship crew are long dead, and your fate remains at the mercy of Big Mom who took a keen interest in your strength.

“Ma-ma-ma-ma! You’re quite an interesting find! You must be the strongest Haki user I’ve ever seen, and by my experience, that’s definitely saying something. I think I’ll spare you.” Big Mom announces making you feel grateful at the prospects at your survival “You’ll be quite a fine addition to my family.” The feeling of relief is quickly fleeting, spiralling to defeat.

Once you’re married in, there is no escaping Big Mom.

“I’m already married.” You say, hoping to any god listening that Big Mom will spare your life and not force you to marry someone from her hoard.

“I’m well aware Monkey. Y/n.” Big Mom waives your excuse. “I think you would suit my son Katakuri just fine. Two strong Haki users are bound to heir a strong Haki protege.”

“Hell no! Listen here lady. I’m not marrying anyone! I’ve already got a husband, and that’s how it’s staying!” You challenge. Fears be damned, if you’re loosing your freedom, then it’s not a life worth living for.

“What makes you think you’ve got a choice girl?!” Big Moms voice seeps with venom. “You’d seriously rather die? What kind of idiot are you?”

“There’s no life if there is no freedom!” Your yell back, voice booming across the room with determination.

“Don’t you throw out your conquerors Haki to me you little brat! Listen here girl, that rubber idiot is on his way to my Island to take back his crew mate Sanji.” Your eyes bulge at the news. “Yes, that’s right. Vinsmoke Sanji is here marrying my daughter. Marry my son with no fuss and I won’t squash Straw hat.” You stare up unbothered at her threat. “Mark my words. If you become difficult, I’ll make sure Sanji has a hard and unhappy life.” Big Mom grins at your crumbling resolve.

You thought of Luffy and all of your past adventures together, and many more adventures ahead. That’s all you needed to reinvigorate your resolve. “Shove it hag! Sanji is a big boy, I’ll remind him where he belongs!” Big Moms vein pops from her forehead. “I’m not gonna marry your son and I’m not gonna join your stupid crew, because I already have a Captain! And my husband- he’s going to be king of the pirates!” You yell with all your might, making sure everyone felt the authenticity of your claim.

“Marriage or Death?!” Big Moms voice booms. But not a moment sooner, Luffy blasts through the wall, his hand impossibly inflated.

“That’s my wife you Jerk!” And with all his might, Luffy’s fist comes smashing down.

Dust fills the air, blinding you. Hearing the familiar echos of Luffy’s sandals, you begin to speak out. “Luffy! Take me home to the Thousand Sunny!” You demand, your wobbling lip coming to a stand still at Luffy’s maddening grin.

“Took ya long enough. Comm’on, the crews waitin’ for you.”

[h-ngm-nssluttt]

Deployment Birth

Jake Seresin One Shot

Pov: jake misses the birth of your baby while on deployment but the Dagger Squad makes sure they help you along the way.

The old saying goes ‘When you know you know’ and that was the truth for Jake Seresin. The moment he met Hazel it’s like the stars in his universe aligned as sappy as that sounds, but there was just something about her that made him simply… know.

When Hazel moved to North Island the last thing on her mind was finding someone to be in a relationship with but the universe on that one fateful night at the hard deck when she met up with her childhood friend Natasha Trace had other plans. Hazel wasn’t sure if it was the Southern drawl or the million dollar smile or maybe even the captivatingly gorgeous green eyes that stared deeply into hers like she was the only one in the room even though they were surrounded by the many patrons of the Hard Deck on a Saturday night, but Jake Seresin stole her heart that night whether she realized it right away or not.

The usual cocky, egotistical, womanizer Aviator everyone was used to had changed faster than they could blink. Cocky attitude was replaced with sweet nothings and compliments. Flowers on a random Tuesday just because and coffee runs on his lunch just so he could see you for 10 minutes. Jake Seresin was in love and he was in it deep.

They moved in together after dating for 9 months. She brought warmth and life to Jake's boring beige apartment which he loved. He loved the throw pillows that now adorned his couch, the scented candles that seemed to be in each room. The pictures that now hung on the walls, he loved it all. The engagement followed suit after a year and a half of dating and the wedding wasn’t too far behind. It felt like a whirlwind romance to everyone around them but they just simply knew. They were each other’s person, made for each other by the gods above so why waste anytime when you just simply know.

Hazel was not used to having a partner that actually put in effort. When they say “if he wanted to he would” Jake always wanted to. The smallest of things like doing the dishes, getting her shower ready to just the right temperature that he knew she liked. Having a glass of wine and her book ready for her on the coffee table after a long day of work so she could relax while he sat on the couch with her watching a muted tv with sports recaps on it just to spend time with her. He wanted it all. At first it scared her, but once she realized that Jake wasn’t like her past relationships she was in deep too.

2.5 years in a new journey was about to begin.

She stood in the bathroom staring at the test on the counter. 2 dark pink lines staring right back at her. She wasn’t convinced at first but the 5 tests she took told her otherwise, all showing the same result. She was pregnant. They were going to have a baby. She was growing something half Jake and Half her. She honestly couldn’t believe it. They weren’t actively trying but they decided that if it happened then so be it, and honestly, she couldn’t believe it happened.

The next week was spent going to the doctor’s office just to confirm that she was 100% pregnant (which she was). 5 weeks to be exact. Once she realized it was without a doubt positive she began trying to come up with a creative way to tell Jake.

She stood over the box on the kitchen island making sure it was perfect one more time before gently closing the lid just as she heard the door of Jake's truck close from outside their apartment. Hazel acted like she was busy tidying up the kitchen counter when she heard his boots thud across the hardwood floor as a hand wrapped around her waist from behind and a gentle kiss was placed to the top of her head.

“Hey sweetheart. How was your day?” I smiled as I turned around and faced Jake as I gently wrapped my arms around his neck

“It was good. Busy. How about you?” Jakes smile widened as he looked down at me

“Long and tiring. Was flying from the moment I got on base till it was time to leave”

“Sounds like it’s going to be relaxing on the couch and takeout kind of night?” He smiles as he leans down and places a soft kiss to my lips

“its like you read my mind sweetheart”

I smile as he removes his arm from around my waist and walks across the kitchen. I admire how good he looks in his khaki uniform. He always looks so good. It almost has to be a sin for someone to look that good. He stops at the sight of the box on the kitchen island

“What's this?”

“Just a little something for you” I smile as he looks at me almost confused as he looks back down at the box

“I’m not forgetting something am i?”

“no..go ahead and open it up”

I smile as I watch him look between the box and myself a few more times before slowly grabbing the lid and opening the box as I lean against the kitchen island, my eyes never leaving his face as he looks at the contents of the box. His hands grip the sides of the box as he intently stares at the small pair of aviator sunglasses and a small onesie that says “daddy’s wingman” with a jet underneath it. He quickly looks up at me and back down at the contents of the box multiple times before looking at me.

“are… are you. you’re”

I smile widely as I look at him nodding my head yes as he tries to form a complete sentence. Before I could even get a word out he closes the distance between us as he rounds the corner of the island and cradles my face in his hands as he stares into my eyes and quietly whispers

“we’re having a baby?”

“were having a baby” He leans down and places a soft but passionate kiss to my lips, resting his forehead against mine as he looks into my eyes

“I can’t believe this…. Were… were going to have a baby…”

I smile as I gently place my hands on his shoulders as he moves his hands to my waist as we stand there in the kitchen together. The smile never leaves his face as he slowly kneels down in front of me and rests his forehead against my stomach as he quietly whispers something I can’t fully make out to my stomach. Excitement settling between the two of us as the realization that our greatest adventure together was about to begin in a short 9 months.

They say pregnancy is supposed to be a happy time in a couple’s life… and I suppose that’s true if your husband is not in the military. Nothing can ruin the happiness of a pregnancy like the word ‘deployment’… a 6-month deployment at that. 6 months which happens to be the amount of time that I have left in my pregnancy. 6 months that will be cutting it close to the due date of our baby, if the baby comes on time that is. 6 months of experiencing everything alone. 6 months of sending updates and pictures through letters as often as we can send them. 6 months and the chance that Jake will miss the birth of our baby…

Jake, Payback and Fanboy got the orders a week ago and they leave in 2 days. Those two days were spent barely leaving our bed. Jake's hand never leaves my stomach, caressing the very small baby bump that has formed. Two days of him talking to our baby telling them that they had to wait for him to come home before coming into the world.

“Everyone says that the first baby comes late as long as everything goes well”

I lay there running my fingers through jakes hair as he rests his forehead against my bare stomach running his thumb against the small bump

“I really hope they are right… I can’t miss this.. I just..” he sighs as he places a kiss to my stomach

“I just really need you to wait for daddy to get home… just hang on tight in there for me please”

“We will do our best honey”

The send off was a crying fest. Natasha had to drive me home and ended up spending the night to make sure I was okay. The Dagger squad tried to make this deployment as easy as possible on me as they could. Every Monday Bob came over for dinner. On Tuesdays Bradley and I went grocery shopping together to ensure I didn’t have to lift anything on my own. Wednesdays Natasha and I went to a yoga class. Thursdays Javi came over and mowed the lawn and helped with anything I needed done, and on Friday’s we all went out for dinner and ended the night at the Hard Deck together where I would sit and sip on water while we all went on with our lives. Well they went on with their lives like normal. I felt like I was on autopilot going through the motions each day.

Penny went with me to all of my dr. appointments and has been giving me some parenting advice here and there from when she had Amelia. Everyone made sure I wasn’t alone even though I felt like I was a majority of the time. I made sure to take video’s of our appointments so he can see them when he returns home. The sound of the baby’s heartbeat, the black and white screen showing our little baby moving around.

Every Monday I wrote Jake a new letter with a picture to show how much my belly was growing. With each letter I felt like my heart broke more and more. Each letter included something new about my pregnancy, like how I went to the appointment to find out the gender but refused to know what the baby was until Jake was home. Another one was about how I felt that baby kick for the first time. Another was how hard it was starting to get comfortable because my stomach was so big I could only fit in Jake's shirts anymore and waddle around like a penguin.

Another letter was simply just a list of names for either gender that we liked, eventually deciding on a name for either or that we felt would fit perfectly for our baby.

Each letter was met with a response about how he wishes he was there to experience everything with me. How guilty he feels that he is missing everything and the dreaded line of ‘I still don’t have an exact date as to when I will be home’ that one gets me every time and usually brings me to tears as it feels like the closer and closer I get to our due date that the reality of me having to do this alone is become more and more real as each day passes. And being 4 weeks away from our due date really made that fear a reality.

Each day this week I texted everyone the same excuse ‘you won’t need to come over today. I’m not feeling well. Super tired’. In reality I laid in our bed snuggled into one of jakes sweatshirts clutching onto his pillow as I laid their and slept and cried all week long. Friday night rolled around and I was laying in bed watching some crappy reality show when I heard footsteps and saw Bob, Natasha, Bradley and Javi standing in my hallway. Natasha walked into the room and knelt down by the side of my bed as I looked at her with my tired and red rimmed eyes

“We pieced it all together when we got to dinner tonight. You aren’t sick”

“I mean I am sick.. I’m sick of this deployment…” and that’s all it took before the tears started flowing again as Natasha tried to console me.

“I’m so scared… Each day passes and it becomes more and more real that…. That he’s not going to be here… I’m going to be doing this alone… I can’t do this alone.. I .. he … I can’t”

After crying for a solid hour, I fell asleep as Natasha sat on the bed with me trying to calm me down. Bob, Bradly and Javi cleaned up the apartment and went to the store to ensure I had enough food in the apartment for next 2 weeks and picked up dinner from my favorite Chinese place to try and cheer me up.

We spent the rest of Friday night all crowded in Jake and I’s bedroom. Natasha and Bradley crammed onto the bed with me while Javi and Bob settled onto the floor by the bed. If it wasn’t for this group of friends right here I honestly don’t think I would have made it through this.

The week of the baby’s due date approached fast and Natasha refused to let me be alone. She took up residency on the couch in case I needed anything or god forbid the baby decided to come. This week felt agonizingly slow. Like my body knew it needed to hold on but unfortunately it had other plans. 3 days before our due date I was standing in the kitchen making myself breakfast when I felt it… my water broke. I stood there with wide eyes and I stared at Natasha who was sitting at the kitchen island. It didn’t take long for the tears to cascade down my cheeks as I realized this was it… I silently cursed my body for not holding on longer to even give the slightest chance that Jake could have made it home in time.

72 hours of intense labor later and the Dagger squad crammed into a tiny hospital room, Sonny Amelia Seresin made her appearance and my god did she look just like her daddy, green eyes and all. After a brief hospital stay we made it home and two weeks later we got the call that Jake would be coming home.

The Dagger squad and I made our way to the dock to welcome Jake, Reuben and Jay home. Sonny was curled up against my chest as I stood there frantically searching through the sea of people just trying to catch a glimpse of that familiar head of sandy blonde hair and green eyes. Natasha placed her hand on my shoulder and pointed and as soon as I followed the direction her finger was pointing I saw him. The instant our eyes met it felt like the first night we met all over again. It was like we were the only two there even though there were hundreds of people there. His eyes drifted to the tiny bundle curled up against my chest and I could see the tears from here. It’s like the world was moving in slow motion as he made his way to us. The second he made it to us one hand was placed on my waist the other on my cheek as he leaned down and placed a kiss on my lips as his tears fell on to my cheeks. I love you whispered between the two of us before he pulled back and gently removed his hand from my cheek and gently ran a finger over his daughters’ tiny cheek and ran his hand gently over her tiny tuft of sandy blonde hair on her head. The second she was in his arms he placed a small kiss to her forehead as she snuggled into his chest and greeted his daughter for the first time with tears in his eyes.

“Hi my Sonny girl… Daddy loves you so so much”

Those words were the beginning of our new adventure together. A deployment may have gotten in the way but everything fell right back into place the second our eyes met when he got off that carrier. The stars in our universe aligned again and you could tell Jake Seresin was in love and he was in it deep with the way he looked down at his baby girl.

[xhazzz]

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Strawberry-grilled cheese

warnings: make out, kissing, nudity (not explicit smut), coursing

summary: first night together

a/n: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LENGUAGE so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

masterlist || requests are open

READER’S POV:

The past few weeks had felt like a dream. Jake and I had been seeing each other almost every day—going to the movies, having dinner at home, spending Friday nights at The Hard Deck with the gang, and even sneaking in visits to the base when I brought lunch to my dad. Nat teased us constantly, saying we looked like a high school romance.

“So, are you finally going to spill the tea?” my friend asked, raising an eyebrow. We were chatting comfortably on one of the bar’s couches while the guys were betting on who could beat Hangman at darts. “Is Hangman as good in bed as he brags?”

“God, Phoenix,” I laughed, blushing. “We haven’t even slept together…”

“What?!” she laughed, clearly shocked. “Respect, girl. You’ve got Hangman eating out of the palm of your hand, and he’s completely celibate.”

“Stop,” I rolled my eyes and grabbed a fry from the table. “It’s not like we don’t want to, but we always get interrupted. Last Friday, I almost stripped in front of Coyote.”

“Wasn’t he supposed to be on a date with the girl from the control tower?”

“He was supposed to be,” I sighed, glancing at my boyfriend as he grabbed another round of beers from the bar. “Luckily, Jake managed to cover me with his uniform.”

“Damn, girl…” Nat chuckled.

“Freakin’ Hangman,” Rooster said as he joined us with our drinks. “The idiot made me lose fifty bucks.”

“It’s not my fault you suck, Bradshaw,” Jake shot back, sliding into the seat next to me and draping his arm over my shoulders. “I told you I’m the best there is, didn’t I, Y/N?”

“Oh, you wish, babe,” I laughed, playfully hitting his chest. “You definitely need an ego check.”

Bradley and Nat booed him, laughing, while Jake pretended to be offended.

“What I need is a quiet night with my girl, without any interruptions,” Jake murmured, leaning into my ear and kissing the top of my head and then my chin.

“You two are disgusting,” Roo said, throwing a fry at Jake. “Get a room.”

“I think we will,” I said, settling into my seat and patting Jake’s leg.

“Hell yeah!” Jake exclaimed, jumping up and grabbing my hand to pull me along.

“Are you serious?” Nat asked, raising an eyebrow. “Right now?”

“Right now,” Jake said, grabbing his jacket. “Hey, Coyote, you’d better not come home tonight. I’ll change the locks if I have to.”

“All yours, man,” his friend replied with a wink, clearly occupied with the blonde sitting next to him.

I let go of Jake’s hand for a moment and walked over to Penny at the bar.

“Penny, can you put it all on Rooster’s tab?” I grinned. This was payback for getting free drinks all week in exchange for my number.

“You got it, sweetheart,” she smiled, glancing at Jake and me. “If I see your dad, I’ll let him know not to wait up.”

—————————————————————————————————————————————

As soon as we got to Jake’s apartment, he pinned me against the door, cradling my face and kissing me like there was no tomorrow. Our lips fit together perfectly.

“Damn, you taste so good,” Jake murmured, barely pulling away. “You taste like strawberries.”

He began leaving soft kisses and gentle bites along my jaw and neck as I started unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time.

“And you smell amazing, sweetheart,” he added, sliding his hands down my hips, squeezing my ass, and lifting me by the thighs so I could wrap my legs around his waist. “You smell like vanilla.”

I let out a laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck as he carried me to the bedroom. He gently laid me down on the bed and pulled back just enough to look at me. I finished unbuttoning his shirt, and Jake shrugged it off, tossing it somewhere in the room. His dog tags were the only thing left on his chest. I grabbed them, pulling him closer to kiss him again.

I slowly ran my hands down his toned abdomen while he kissed my neck again. His hands moved from my thighs to the hem of my shirt, slipping under it to touch me softly. His touch sent shivers through my body. His thumb grazed the edge of my bra before cupping my breasts in his hands, squeezing them lightly, making me moan.

My hands moved down to his belt buckle, and I quickly undid it as he pulled my shirt over my head.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, starting to undo my pants. Clothes disappeared in a matter of seconds, and the temperature in the room kept rising. The only sounds were our moans and soft murmurs.

Jake was leaning back against the headboard while I straddled his lap, my head tilted back from the pleasure he was giving me. His lips left wet kisses on my breasts, occasionally nipping at them, while his hands roamed my body. They traveled from my neck to my ass, giving it a playful slap as I picked up the pace.

“Damn it, Jake…” I moaned. “I’m close.”

“You feel so good, my love,” he replied, taking control and thrusting into me with more intensity. “You’re perfect, my beautiful girl.”

I moaned loudly as I climaxed, burying my face in the crook of his neck. A few moments later, Jake followed, holding me tightly with both arms as we caught our breath and let our heartbeats steady.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to me, woman,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead and tracing soft patterns on my back with his fingertips. “But I’m crazy about you.”

We stayed like that for a few minutes, wrapped in each other’s arms, with him still inside me. I left a trail of kisses along his chin and neck before resting my head on his chest, closing my eyes and listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“As much as I love holding you like this, let me take care of you”, Jake said, lifting me slightly and pulling out carefully before laying me back on the bed and heading to the bathroom. His sheets smelled like his cologne. “Here you go, baby.”

Jake returned with a damp towel and gently cleaned my legs. When he was done, he pressed a kiss to my ankles.

“Do you want some water? Are you hungry?” he asked, sitting beside me.

“What I want is for you to lie down with me again,” I sighed, patting the spot next to me on the bed.

He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. We lay in comfortable silence as he ran his fingers through my hair, untangling it. We talked here and there, about trivial things, laughing and stealing kisses as if there were no tomorrow.

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat something?” Jake asked again. “I can make you a fantastic grilled cheese sandwich.”

“That sounds amazing,” I laughed, propping myself up on my elbow and kissing his lips softly.

We both got up. Jake slipped on a pair of boxers and grabbed a Naval Academy shirt for me. He picked up my panties from the floor and tossed them to me playfully.

“I like these,” he teased with a grin. “Maybe I’ll keep them.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing, and got up to put them on.

“I could leave them for you as a souvenir,” I teased, walking toward the door.

“I love that idea,” he said, following me and giving me a playful slap on the ass. “But don’t worry, sweetheart, I like the thought of you wearing them and me being the only one to take them off even more.”

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Don’t it seem like a good time for swimming

(Sam Winchester x female reader)

Summary Sam at the beach is a sight to behold. It just seems like a good time for swimming (and other things). CWs Indulgent descriptions of Sam's body. Some slightly naughty water fun. Some more naughty hotel room fun (nothing crazy explicit). 18+. 1k words AN This is my (first of many) entry to the gorgeous, wonderful and brilliant @ambiguous-avery's Summer Snapshot Challenge! I wrote this while at the beach, although without any moose action. Hope you enjoy! And thank you, Avery, for starting this beautiful challenge!❤️ Fic title is from Adrianne Lenker's "Donut Seam".

Sam Winchester masterlist ⏐ SPN masterlist

Your bottom lip is about to have two tooth-sized holes if you keep going like this. But you're pretty sure if you stop biting it, you're gonna hump the deck chair under you.

Sam is leaned forward on his own just ahead and to your right. A leg on each side, muscular calves leading to sexy feet - since when are feet sexy? You don't know, but Sam seems to have the answer - buried in the sand. Up over thighs you want, need, to explore the inside of. Dark green swimming trunks pulled tight over his ass from how he's sitting. Then his lower back, soft-skinned and curved, broadening towards his shoulders. Dark hair tickling the back of his neck. Gorgeous face in deep concentration as the back of his index finger runs over his bottom lip, the other one holding down the flapping pages of his book.

It's simply too much.

You more or less jump off your chair, snatch the orange tube of sunscreen. You half hop the few feet over to him, the sand burning your toes. Sam barely has time to perk up his head before you're straddling the chair behind him, pressed in close.

“Enough with the nose in the books number,” you say, bringing your mouth as close to his ear as you can from this position, already shaking the tube, the thick liquid sloshing around in it. “It's very mysterious and sexy, but it's time to have some water-based fun.” 

Sam huffs, turns his head to put his bookmark between the pages, then drops the book and leans back. His warm skin meets your front and you snuggle against him.

“You're right,” he says. He raises his hands like he's showing you he's unarmed. “Sorry.”

You shake the tube one more time, then open it, squeeze a generous helping into your hands. Close it, drop it, mush your hands together and then put them over Sam's shoulder blades.

Run them down. Streaks of white on tan skin. You know how bitter it tastes from the bit you got on your lips when covering your face, but it looks like some kind of melting treat. Two long stripes, becoming more faint, down to where skin meets trunks. Sam lets out a slow breath.

“You're forgiven,” you say, letting your voice dip low. “So long as you go in the ocean with me.”

You do the appropriate amount of squealing when the waves travel over your ankles, then again when they hit your stomach. Hands waving, hopping. Sam grins at the display, the water not as high on him due to his stature, but he leans down, collects some with his hands, rubbing it over himself to get his body used to the temperature. Real adult shit.

Still, when he's up to his hips, you cling on to him. Your skin is slick against each other from the sunscreen and sweat, and Sam's all warm and delicious-smelling. He pulls you close and, feeling the effects of the sun and freedom fill up your soul, you do a little jump, wrap your legs around him, the light weight the water is giving you making you look mostly elegant.

Sam turns with you in his arms and you laugh, drop your head back before leaning forward, clinging on to him for dear life. You think he's gonna threaten to throw you, but he doesn't. One of his hands is gripping your thigh, one your ass. You kiss the side of his face, and he turns his head, looks at you before kissing you properly.

It turns, the way those things just sometimes do. You grind yourself against him, feel his response against the inside of your thigh. Nip at his earlobe when you hug him again, cause that's the kind of little shit you are.

Sam's expression has changed the next time you see his face. Lids lower, something almost fox-like around his eyes. One quick look at your lips, one squeeze of his hand. Something unmistakable between you.

Your back hits the hotel bed mattress and you giggle as Sam crawls over you, but he quickly shuts you up with his mouth. Getting your wet bikini and his trunks off is a lot of work, but it's well worth it.

You told everyone you'd forgotten your sunglasses in the room. Didn't explain why both of you are needed to retrieve them. The look Dean and Jody threw each other let you know they weren't buying it.

But you couldn't care less. As you wrap your arms around Sam's shoulders, press your mouth against his neck, whimper at his movements, your head is blissfully emptied. The sunscreen is still bitter where it left a sheen, but there's also saltiness and sweetness. A whole buffet of perfect tastes. 

The door to the balcony is open, and over both of your panting and gasping and sweet whispers of love and lust, you can still hear the ocean. Its slow waves, so similar to the way Sam moves within you. Assured, strong and yet endlessly gentle. A soft breeze comes in, tickling all the parts of you not covered by Sam.

You turn your head, catch his lips again. Sam slows, too absorbed with kissing you and only when you tightening your legs around him, the same way you did in the waves, it reminds him of what's happening. Before he starts moving again, he pulls his head back, looks into your eyes. Watches you, like he can never get enough. Like you're some kind of magical creature having appeared before him.

When he rolls off you, chest heaving and you sling your arm over him, he kisses your forehead. You press your cheek against his warm chest.

“Told you a vacation was a good idea,” you say between deep breaths. Sam chuckles, runs his palm over your forehead to smooth back your hair.

“Alright, you win,” he says and you can only close your eyes and smile broadly.

[hiding-under-the-willow]

This is too short to justify posting on Ao3 but I think it's silly so. Here's a little impulsive scene I wrote based on a bit from Joe's video today where he commented on the fact Helsknight cards keep ending up in booster packs despite the randomizer

*****

"I think your machine's haunted." Joe says one day, unprompted, pressing buttons on the card randomizer to throw together a booster pack, restock the machines upstairs.

Etho looks up from the line of redstone he's plucking away at, brows furrowed.

"What?"

"Or maybe Beef's game," He shrugs nonchalantly, "One or the other, though."

Etho puts down his tools, turns his attention fully to Joe from his place on the floor as the green haired man wanders across the room to the spot where the newly made booster pack had been deposited.

"Why do you say that?" He asks, head tilted to the side as the poet lifts open the lid of the shulker, a look of discontent settling on his face.

Joe reaches into the box, begins to fish something out, "Because I keep pulling Helsknight cards." He says, tone all matter-of-fact annoyance, as, with a flourish of his hand, he produces a card depicting the knight from the box, holds it up for Etho to see.

Etho frowns, the edges of his mask pulling downward, "Helsknight’s not dead. He can't exactly do much haunting without being a ghost in the first place."

Joe places the card back in its place in the shulker, "Hey now, you don't have to be dead to haunt things." He states, closing the box and tucking it away in his inventory, "Ghost is more a state of mind than a state of being, and I would know." He wiggles a few fingers in front of himself performatively as he walks back across the room to hit more buttons, and for a brief moment his hand is translucent and blue, almost glowing.

And then he wanders over and punches the hermits card button, hand looking as human as it had before.

"I don't think that's exactly how it works for most people, Joe." Etho laughs nervously, picks at the edge of his gloves, tries to suppress the chill that threatens to run up his spine.

"Well, I'm pulling Helsknight cards more often than not either way." He says with a huff, walking over to the next button, "and I know there's not any more of those than there are any other cards, cause I made the damn things."

Etho shrugs, "True randomness doesn't always look random to the human eye." He flashes Joe a mischievous look as the man wanders by him towards the next button, "Hey, maybe he's made his own cards, stacked the system with them solely to annoy you." He teases.

Joe scoffs, "I could care less if he was so intent on haunting the narrative, to each their own and such. I'm just worried about the other hermits getting annoyed when they keep pulling him in their packs." He punches the button, hesitates as it makes its various beeps and dings, "Besides," He says sheepishly, glancing back over his shoulder at the engineer, "I checked for that already. Perfectly normal number of cards in there."

Etho rolls his eyes, "Of course you did."

"Diligence is the mother of good fortune." He says brightly, skipping a step as he bounds towards the next randomizer, "Anyways, like I said, haunted. Your machine or the game."

He pauses, hums thoughtfully.

"Maybe just Beef in general, actually."

"What, just cause it's his game?" Etho asks, picking his tools back up to return to his work on the redstone, realizing this wasn't a conversation that would be over with quickly.

"Well, I mean, yeah, the game was his creation, and, I mean, if you wanna get technical with it, so was Helsknight." Joe moves across the room, "Did you see his starter deck was a PVP type? Hels is in there, too."

Etho rolls his eyes, "You sent those out." He says, tactfully choosing to ignore the first half of the statement.

"Randomly." Joe reminds him, walking up to the next newly created booster pack, "Don't make this out to be my fault."

"Yeah, just as randomly as those booster packs are being created." Etho snorts, tinkering with a new wire.

"I'm gonna choose to take that as you complimenting my randomization ability and not you insulting your own redstone." Joe pulls open the box, "and anyways, believe whatever you'd like, but," He leans down into the box, pulls out another card, and tosses it towards Etho with practiced precision.

Etho fumbles with his tools to free up a hand to catch the card as it flies towards him, and when he does manage to snatch it out of the air, see who's on the front, he frowns.

"Obviously, something or someone's getting haunted."

"Hm." He stares down at the freshly pulled Helsknight card, "Not sure how fond I am of ghosts.”

[hannahbarberra162]

Heat Transfer, Chapter 5

MDNI, on Ao3

The other chapters

Ace POV

Ace squinted up at the overhead sun to realize it had become afternoon. Hours passed as if they were minutes and slipped away from him as it often happened while he worked. His stomach rumbled in protest of being forgotten so he headed to the galley to try and sneak some bites of dinner before it was ready. He had about a one in three chance of getting away with it if Thatch was in the kitchen but it would be worth the effort if he could get something for…

Ace’s train of thought trailed off as he realized he hadn’t seen Baby in hours. She wasn’t on the deck sunning herself and he didn’t see her wrapped around Pop’s shoulders. He hoped she wasn’t swimming alone because Namur said he’d let Ace know if you went together. Ace didn’t think you’d slip away to swim by herself, she’d learned not to do that. She wouldn’t be with Fossa since he was off on a day mission and left early that morning. So where could she be?

Ace walked briskly to search for you and passed Marco along his way to the door leading to the kitchens. The doctor was reading and marking some papers but looked up when he saw Ace.

“Oh, Ace. I was able to synthesize the antidote to Baby’s venom based on the recipe from that book, so we’re all set yoi. It should work but I’d prefer if we didn’t have to test it out,” the Commander said wryly. Ace furrowed his brow and reached out to stop his brother from walking any further.

“What do you mean you synthesized it?” Ace questioned while pushing his hat off his head to his back.

“It’s a complex process but it’s actually quite interesting yoi. First I collected her venom and put it in the centrifuge - ” Marco started with a smile, surprised Ace was interested in the science behind the antidote.

“No, Marco. Like, what do you mean you took her venom,” Ace said while crossing his arms across his chest. Marco blinked at his brother in confusion.

“Just what I said, I took her venom. I put her in the crate afterward, she’s still in there -” Marco stopped talking as Ace stared at him incredulously.

“Marco, what the fuck?” the younger man demanded. Marco cocked an eyebrow at Ace, unfamiliar with the attitude being directed his way. 

“What do you mean? I told you I was going to take her venom so I did yoi. Next time I’ll ask your permission,” Marco huffed before turning to leave.

“No, you don’t need my permission. You need hers,” Ace said, grabbing Marco by the arm. It wasn’t a punch or even a push but the aggressive movement had its intended effect. Marco pulled himself from slouching to his full height, towering over Ace. Ace refused to be intimidated by him and didn’t budge an inch when he met Marco’s hard stare. He could only imagine how scared Baby had felt being cornered by Marco and locked away for hours in his cabin.

“No, I don’t. I’m in charge -”

“You don’t outrank me, it’s not your call! You can’t just do that to her!” Ace yelled at Marco, throwing his hands wide in anger when he released the doctor’s arm.

“It’s true I don’t yoi. But I am responsible for the safety of the crew and that doesn’t include letting sea snakes roam freely about the ship. She already bit Thatch -”

“She was scared! She didn’t -”

“Twice. No one can communicate with her, she doesn’t speak any human language. She’s feral and has been in the wild for years. She’s basically your pet -”

“She’s not a pet! She’s a person!” Ace’s voice grew increasingly louder as he continued to yell, bringing ever more attention to the row he was having with Marco.

“She’s not, she’s not even human,” Marco said with finality, uninterested in arguing with Ace any longer. 

“Am I not a person Marco?” Namur asked calmly from the side of the deck. Marco inhaled deeply as he saw the crew gathered around like the gossip mongers they were. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Marco sighed again.

“That’s not what I meant yoi. Of course, you’re a person, Namur. You’re my brother. I’m just saying that Baby isn’t the same, she’s -”

“Sea Naga are known to have their own society, speak and write their own language, craft and use tools, and are capable of interacting with the outside world. She’s learning words and using them correctly at an incredible rate. Baby has learned the norms of the ship and crew, including non-lethal combat for entertainment. How is she not a person? How is she different from me?” Namur continued calmly, his words casually skewering Marco on the spot. Ace was able to release a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as a sense of relief washed over him. He wasn’t good at arguing or getting his words right but Namur had said everything he had been thinking. Baby wasn’t some animal like Stefan who needed to be taken care of - she was clearly capable of learning and independent thinking. The more time he spent with her the more obvious it became that she wasn’t a child but a grown adult Sea Naga. She was on the smaller side but he wasn’t one to talk. He was only one hundred and eighty five centimeters and his father was two hundred and seventy five centimeters, Luffy was even shorter than Ace, and Gramps was the tallest at two hundred and eighty seven centimeters. Sometimes things just worked out that way.

“I’m not getting into a semantic argument. Until she can communicate, she can’t be alone on the ship. It’s not safe for anyone,” Marco said with a huff, before shifting into his phoenix form and taking off into the sky. They must have really bothered him since Marco only did that when he was too annoyed to talk to anyone. The papers he had been studying before the argument wafted in the wind and Ace spent a few moments collecting them. He’d return them to Marco once they’d both cooled down a little.

“Thanks for helping,” Ace said, clapping Namur on the shoulder while holding the stack of papers in the other hand. The fishman shrugged and smiled in return. 

“Marco doesn’t mean it. He gets up his own ass about safety and keeping the crew from harm. He’ll come around,” Namur said before taking his leave from Ace. Ace wasn’t so sure - there was something between Marco and Baby and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. 

Ace quickly headed to his room, already anticipating her being upset before he opened the door. Turning the handle and pushing the door open revealed a sad looking Baby curled up in the furthest corner of the locked crate. There was some jerky at the front of the crate that hadn’t been touched - probably from Marco. Walking swiftly over to the opposing wall, he took the keys off the hook and unlocked the crate. She watched him with mournful eyes but didn’t exit the crate like Ace had hoped. 

“Baby, come out,” Ace’s voice was as soft as he could make it while he pleaded with her, holding his arms wide open. Baby looked around while flicking her tongue, likely trying to sense if Marco was around. She may have smelled him on Ace or the papers still in his hand because she shook her head with a small movement and stayed where she was. Ace’s heart was as broken as Baby’s spirit - he had to fix the situation somehow. Looking around, he saw a pencil on the top of his desk and grabbed it. He pushed his way into the crate to join a very surprised Baby.

Sitting cross legged in the small crate, Ace was using Baby’s curled body as a kind of living lounger. Baby tried to move backwards to maintain more space between them but the close quarters of the crate didn’t allow for it. Sighing, she shifted her long tail until it was wrapped around Ace’s body and he heated himself warmer in response. He was now sitting with his back against her torso while she leaned down, her head resting on his shoulder. 

Ace drew a rough stick figure drawing on the back of one of Marco’s papers using the pencil. Drawing wasn’t his strong suit but he thought it was passable enough to understand the meaning. Pointing to it, he said his name and wrote it above the figure. Baby watched as he then drew a stick person with a tail instead of legs. 

“Baby,” he said while pointing to the sea naga figure. She nodded and gently plucked the pencil from his hands. In the featureless circle of the naga face, she drew a frown. Baby continued to draw as she deftly drew a human figure with wings and bird feet, which Ace figured was Marco.

“Marco,” Ace said, pointing to the winged figure. She was much better than Ace at drawing which was yet another skill highlighting her intelligence.

“Marco,” Baby repeated solemnly. Flipping to the next page, she then drew Marco picking up the sea naga in his talons with his mouth open. She drew large pointy teeth in Marco’s face and his tongue hanging out like she was a meal. Ah, So Marco had been right - you thought Marco was going to eat you. As he turned around, Ace looked at her furrowed brow and worried eyes.

“No, no. Marco’s not going to eat you,” Ace tried explaining. He was thinking of a way to explain what Marco was when he felt her nuzzling into the crook of his neck. He reached behind and rubbed Baby’s head, his fingers working in slow circles to comfort her further.

Baby’s POV

You were pleased you finally found a way to communicate your fears to Ace as he pressed his body close to yours in the cage. You had been taken aback at him crawling in with you as you didn’t think the jailer usually joined the prisoners. But you ended up welcoming his presence with open arms and an unwrapped tail like always. He was deliciously warm, kept you well fed, and had some kind of positive feelings toward you. When he smiled at you a strange sensation hit your chest but you couldn’t identify what it was. It was like being double happy but only because of him. Maybe you were getting sick - though your Naga side should have taken care of any human ailments. 

Either way, you put your face closer to his neck, enjoying the warmth and smell of his skin. He reached back and pet you but in a different way than before. It made you want to lean into his hand and maybe even put your arms around him. Despite his strange uniform skin tone, short stubby tongue, useless ears, and dull teeth, he was pleasant looking. Different and unusual but overall rather easy on the eyes. You’d mull over his positive qualities later, right now you were busy trying to express yourself to him.

He kept repeating the phrase “Marco no eat Baby” over and over. You were skeptical but maybe Ace could protect you from the Har - Marco. Marco was clearly in a position of leadership in some capacity but Ace was too, judging by how the other humans treated him. You weren’t sure of the exact power dynamic between them but Ace might be able to help you. You humphed but didn’t say anything further about the Harpy.

Another idea popped into your head to try and explain your situation to Ace. Flipping to another blank paper, you drew three snake like figures and the one he had used for you previously. Above your sister’s figures, you drew two more Sea Naga while above your own you drew one Sea Naga and one human. 

“Brothers,” you said while pointing to the crude images of your sisters. You didn’t really know what the word for sisters was in human but you’d heard the crew calling each other something you thought was similar. You suspected it was in the general vicinity of the word you wanted and Ace studied the drawing as you continued your attempt to explain your parentage. 

“Brothers, Pops,” you tried to explain using the few words you’d heard on the deck. You wanted to tell him that you were half human, maybe the Harpy wouldn’t want you then if it knew you weren’t going to get much bigger.

“Baby,” you said, pointing to your own figure. “Pops,” you said pointing to the human above you. You didn’t know the words for sire and mother but Ace seemed to be understanding you with the words you knew. He was talking to you and asking you questions probably related to your human side. Even if you had been able to understand him you didn’t have any answers for him. You didn’t know who your sire was and you had never met your mother. All you knew were your sisters and…you should probably warn Ace they’d want to find you. 

“Brothers, Baby,” you said, pointing to the Sea Naga again. He looked at you with confusion written across his speckled face as he spoke to you, using your name and “brothers.” It was frustrating not being able to express yourself freely; you wanted to learn more human language so you could finally tell Ace what you wanted to say. You groaned and this time you did wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your front closer to his back. Whatever, you’d have to learn more human and then you’d be able to tell him what you needed.

Ace put his hands on your forearms in a show of comfort. You hadn’t had much physical contact over the course of your life, your sisters only touched you when you asked so you cherished the feeling of spontaneous touch. You didn’t want the moment to end but your wish was denied when Ace gently pried the papers from your hand and folded them up. He crawled out of the cage before he extended his hand to you once again. This time you did leave the cage even as the scent of the Har - Marco -  lingered in the air. You followed Ace out of the room and back onto the top of the ship where you could enjoy the afternoon sunshine.

Your stomach’s grumbling told you that some time had passed since Marco had put you in the cage. You didn’t trust the meat that he’d left in your cage in case it was poisoned. Flicking your tongue out to taste the air you sought the scent of the Meatman and left Ace to talk with the other humans. In the open air, it was difficult to catch some weaker scents but you found his tantalizing odor. After slithering over to him you waited expectantly as he finished serving Pops. He inclined his head as you blinked up at him. He pulled his arms closer to his body but gave you a bright smile.

“Er, hi Baby!” he said, holding a platter under his arm. 

“Hi. Eat meat? Eat egg? Eat fisssh?” you asked with a happy hiss, thumping the tip of your tail against the deck. You’d be more than happy to go fishing for him if he cooked the food for you. 

“Oh, you’re hungry! Not a problem, I’ll get you something. Come with me,” he said, gesturing for you to follow him. Ace’s head perked up as he heard Meatman talk and started following you. The cook was annoyed and yelled something you didn’t understand at Ace but Ace laughed and continued trailing behind you. Ace’s laugh made you have that funny feeling twist your stomach again but this time you wished you had been the one to make him laugh. Curious. 

Ace said something to Meatman after pointing at you with his thumb. The cook turned around and gave you another smile. 

“Thatch,” he said, pointing to himself. 

“Sssash,” you said, trying to repeat the name. “Sssaash. Ssash. Sash,” you tried a few times but got no closer to the way he’d said it. “Sash,” you repeated for the final time. He smiled at you encouragingly like he’d still feed you even if you couldn’t say his name right.

“Great job, Baby!” Thatch exclaimed, clapping you on the shoulder. This human was more smiley and touchy than any other you’d met but you’d tolerate it for more eggs.

A half hour and many shanks of meat later, you and Ace were snoozing in a pile in the shade of the deck. The speed at which Ace ate was impressive especially because he couldn’t unhinge his jaw and devour food whole like you could. He’d eaten more than you and had fallen asleep over his plate towards the end of the meal. Your head nodded downwards too as you felt the familiar drowsiness that followed a good meal creep over you . On your island, you preferred to eat in your cave so that if you fell asleep you were protected.

A bright flash of light like a lightning strike and Thatch’s loud laugh startled you awake suddenly. You reared back instantly, your mouth already open to attack whatever predator was at hand. Thatch got into a defensive position but you held back when you saw it was just a snail in his hands. You grumbled and dragged the sleeping Ace away from the flash back outside into the open air as Thatch laughed again. He was lucky his food was so tasty otherwise you would risk Marco’s ire again to bite him again.

Once on the deck you and Ace continued to snooze for a while as you soaked up his heat along with the afternoon sun. Ace woke with a start and roused you in the process. He blinked rapidly as he took stock of his situation but didn’t seem surprised he’d ended up on the deck outside. It wasn’t good that he fell asleep immediately after eating, you thought. Unlike you, he didn’t seem to wake up easily which you knew because you’d dropped him a few times while lugging him to the deck. If he was in a dangerous place it would leave him vulnerable as you found yourself curling around him protectively at the thought. He might be a strange fire human but you didn’t want him hurt. He yawned and stretched before laying his arms across your tail like you were a chair.

“Whassup Baby? I fell asleep huh,” he asked, his eyes still half lidded and his voice somehow deeper. The scratchy sound made an odd tingle erupt in your chest and you quelled the urge to curl around him even further. 

“Swim?” you asked hopefully, using the word Namur had taught you the previous day. Ace rubbed his chin in thought. He did some kind of work during the days but you were eager to go swimming again. You thumped the end of your tail repeatedly on the wood because of your excitement, your ears twitching in anticipation. Ace smiled lazily at you and you knew you’d won him over.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Ace’s POV

Ace practically flew Striker through the water while Baby followed at a fast clip. She was carrying a metal spear that Fossa had given her, the aerodynamic shape allowing her to bring it along with ease. Ace had been surprised by the gift from Fossa, the large Commander grunting and handing the spear to Baby without a word after he’d returned from his short mission. Her eyes went wide as she took the spear from Fossa, her forked tongue flicking faster than he’d ever seen it. She had threw it from hand to hand, testing out the weight and balance of the weapon. It reminded Ace of the pointed sticks in her cave but he hadn’t thought to bring any. She slithered up to Fossa’s shoulders, hugging his huge head to her chest.

“Uh, do you think we should give her some lessons or -” Ace’s question was cut off as Baby threw the spear into the ocean from Fossa’s shoulders, stabbing a cloud fish through its head. Fossa grunted again and pat Baby on her head. Baby nipped at him affectionately before climbing down and heading towards the railing. 

“Go swim?” Baby asked, her eyes trained only on the fish flopping and floundering in the water.

“Yeah, go swim,” Ace said with a dismissive wave. Ace turned to Fossa, who was watching Baby jump off the railing and into the water while relighting his cigar. He was feeling the sting of jealousy but he reigned his feelings in. Fossa was being thoughtful and sweet and it was refreshing after so many years of a gruff and distant attitude. 

“How’d you know she could use a spear?” Ace asked. He would have made her one himself if he had known she could wield it. 

“Cap’n’s not the only one who saw that Naga years ago. That’s the weapon she had with ‘er. ‘S how I got my scar,” he said, pointing to the jagged line in his forehead. Ace soaked up the information the Commander had freely shared. It had been unknown how he got it and newer recruits were too afraid to ask. Now Ace would have something up his sleeve for family trivia night competitions. 

Baby’s hopeful wide eyes and thumping little tail had won Ace over quickly as he forgot about the mountains of paperwork he had to complete. She was already taking her spear out of the fish and twirling the staff around happily in the sea. He scrambled down to Striker, ready to have some fun with his Baby.

Baby’s POV

The spear Fossa had made you was absolutely perfect. It wasn’t made from an underwater volcano like they traditionally were, but the staff was almost an exact replica of the ones your sisters wielded. It made you feel powerful, like a warrior of the sea, even if you were just a miniature version of one. You swam in the ocean as Ace used his fire-boat to sail on top of the water. It was a shame he couldn’t swim, you wished he could view the beauty of the ocean as it was meant to be seen. Regardless it was fun popping up now and again, bringing him fish for Thatch to cook later or small items you’d found floating in the water. 

You were having a great time when the fire-boat stilled on the surface of the sea. Curious, you breached and saw Ace monitoring something on the horizon. He beckoned you over to his little boat and you hung your arms over the side of the ship. 

“Marines,” he told you, pointing to the ship. “Bad,” he continued. He was standing with one leg up on the seat of the ship, his fist flickering with flames. Oh, you thought, there was going to be a fight. Your blood started pumping as you hissed with excitement, your tail slapping the water.

“Baby go home,” Ace said, still keeping his eyes fixed on the ships in the distance. You snorted, figuring “home” meant the boat.

“Baby fight,” you replied, twirling your spear above the water. Even though you were on the small side, you were a Sea Naga at heart. You loved hunting, fighting, and killing plus based on the play fighting you did with the pirates you found that most humans weren’t very strong. Maybe some were like Ace but if you stayed in the water they wouldn’t be able to get to you. No human could compete with a Sea Naga in their element, you knew that for a fact. Ace wavered like before but the growing flames on his hand told you his decision.

“Baby strong. Baby fight,” you continued. He couldn’t actually make you go back home even if he wanted to but you also didn’t want him to worry about you during the fight. Based on the size of the ships they had fewer people than the Whale but you weren’t sure how many humans that would be. 

“Baby fight. Stay in water,” Ace finally agreed as he mimicked your broken way of communicating. He gave a wicked smile, mirroring the kind your sisters would have when they recounted an excellent battle. 

Ace POV

Normally he wouldn’t have let Baby get anywhere near a battle but…he’d let you convince him yet again. He’d heard about these three Marine ships, they’d sacked one of the subordinate Whitebeard islands close to the border a few months back. They would have to be dealt with one way or another, it might as well be here and now. He was itching for a fight - he wanted to show her that he was a capable protector. Besides, if Baby got scared or hurt she could go underwater and avoid combat until the fight was over. Ace thought it was a pretty good plan as he kicked Striker into high gear heading directly towards the Marine ships. 

Baby was pumped for battle too, outpacing Striker even as he made the boat go faster and faster. Ace watched as she swam gracefully in the water, like a lithe dancer soaring through the air. Reaching the ships in record time, Ace pulled Striker up short creating a spray of water in front of him. You dove deeper under the water and circled his boat, taking cues from him. 

“FIRE FIST ACE - SURRENDER NOW OR PREPARE FOR BATTLE,” one of the ships boomed out from their megaphone snail. Ace’s answer was only a chuckle as he tipped his hat back with one finger, hoping he looked cool in front of Baby. Baby was mildly interested in the ships as she watched them load their cannons.

“HIKEN!” Ace yelled while pushing his fist forward as a pillar of fire shot from his arm. The cannon of fire hit dead center in the middle of the nearest ship. As flames decimated the wood ship in front of them with screams punctuating the sound of the ship cracking apart in the middle, Ace happened to catch Baby’s reaction . Her eyes were the widest he’d ever seen with her long ears pointing down, and her mouth hanging open. She looked up at him from the water, still agog, so he gave her a finger gun. 

“Ace strong,” Baby remarked as she continued treading water and watching the utter destruction with admiration.  

“Heh, I know a thing or two,” Ace replied, before remembering you wouldn’t understand what he was saying. “Baby, go!” Ace said, pointing towards the ships. You let out a loud hiss, the high reverberation making goosebumps rise over his flesh. It reminded him of the sound a snake made when striking, already too late to avoid its attack. You dove under the water and swam rapidly towards the Marines who had fallen into the water off the sinking ship.

Unfortunately the battle wasn’t very satisfying. All the ships were destroyed in under ten minutes between his fire power and Baby doing whatever it was she did. Ace wasn’t sure exactly what she was up to but there was a lot of screaming coming from the water close to the ships. Marine ships were designed to fight against other large ships, not individual pirates. Most of the attacks they utilized were useless against an agile and powerful individual. Ace was able to destroy their ships with ease, giving the low ranking Marines time to abandon ship while those who were able to directly fight Ace fired guns and other useless weapons. Ace felt a little bad for the cannon-fodder Marines who hadn’t even been told that they would need haki to hurt his physical form. He didn’t want to kill more people than he had to so he didn’t attack the lifeboats as they paddled away from the wreckage.

Ace wanted to leave the scene of the battle but he had to find Baby before he could leave otherwise she wouldn’t find her way back to the Moby. He pushed Striker closer towards the decimated Marine ships where the screaming was the loudest. The water near the ships was tinged red with blood, a sight to which Ace had unfortunately become accustomed. 

“SHE’S BACK! THE SEA DEMON IS BACK!” one Marine shrieked, flailing in the water as the water churned around them. Sea demon? Maybe they’d never seen a Sea Naga before, but Baby wasn’t a demon. 

“Baby! Baby!” Ace called out as he searched the dark water. As he looked for any signs of Baby, a leg floated by, looking like it had been torn from the hip socket. Ace winced as more body parts drifted by while the screams of the dying sounded in the air. He was caught off guard when she suddenly pulled herself from the water to a sitting position on the side of the boat. Her hair was matted with blood as she happily chewed on the human entrails caught in her claws, the guts spilling down her front.

“B-baby, what the fuck?” Ace asked in a hushed voice and Baby looked at him with confusion.

“Baby eat meat?” she countered in an uncertain tone. Looking down at the intestines in her hands, she held out a portion to Ace.

“Ace eat meat?” she asked politely.

“Uh, no.” Ace said, his mind in chaos from the macabre scene. Marines were swimming away as fast as they could, some with blood trailing behind them, some with paralyzed arms and legs from her venom. She pouted but didn’t put the guts down. She raised her hands to bring them to her already open mouth slowly like Stefan when he wanted to eat something he shouldn’t. 

“Baby, no,” Ace said with a firm tone as she was about to take another bite. Baby scowled but then perked up.

“Sash?” Baby asked with a sudden hope for cooked guts bleeding into her tone.

“No, Thatch won’t cook that. Drop it, Baby,” Ace replied, shaking his head and Baby’s pout deepened in response. 

“Fish,” you said, pointing to yourself. “Eat fish,” you said, pointing to Ace. You did have a good point, he thought, they did eat fish and you were half sea creature yourself. But no, he couldn’t give in with everything. You’d gotten to swim and fight, you weren’t going to get to eat humans too.

“No, Baby. Let’s go home,” Ace declared. Baby looked wistfully at the Marines fleeing from her presence and threw the guts in the water petulantly, grumbling to herself in her native tongue. He didn’t need to speak Sea Naga to know she was cursing him out under her breath. 

Typha POV

Typha had come to visit her baby sister bearing many gifts. She had a productive month at sea, taking many treasures and killing numerous beasts. Swimming up to the island, Typha called out for the Guppy as she had done so many times before. The little Guppy did not appear promptly which was quite unusual for her. Typha flicked her massive tongue through the air, catching the very faint smell of fire - and humans. Searching the shoreline, Typha found evidence of a fire and revelry with several bottles left behind. Someone had been here.

Typha’s anger grew to match the storm she was named after once she saw the empty cave. The humans had taken their sister, possibly killed her, and ransacked her home. Typha noted that some of the previous presents she had given Baby were missing, taken as trophies. Typha wanted to destroy the cave with a lash of her giant tail but restrained herself as a thought dawned on her. Perhaps Baby was still alive and needed rescuing due to her puny size and inferior strength. They would need to move quickly to find and save her from certain death. 

Typha swam away from the island towards the sister’s lair. Though they kept Baby on a summer island, the three sisters preferred a subterranean cave as their living space. She would alert Maela and Tsuna to the situation. The blood of the humans who dared touch their sister would spill. 

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Could I please request Casey Novak! She’s my all time favourite baby! Maybe something like how reader is Burning with hatred when the new friend Casey starts to be too touching and affectionate. You can make it angsty or how ever you like. A bit random but I dunno I’m feeling jealous lately I need to get it out of my system before it eats at me more .

Thanks you my love! 🥰

All yours, anon! I don't write a whole lot of angst, so this was fun! (Happy ending tho because of who I am fundamentally lol). Hope you enjoy! --illdowhatiwantthanks

With the Crack of a Bat

Casey Novak x fem!reader Warnings: violent thoughts on the part of the reader (not like murderous or deeply harmful or anything, but... we're definitely wishing ill-will), some angst, very vague references to sex, innuendo (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.3k

Summary: There's a new girl on yours and Casey's LGBTQ+ softball team, and you do not like how cozy she's getting with your girlfriend.

You sat fuming in the dugout, waiting your turn to bat, the heel of your cleat grinding repeatedly into the dirt-caked concrete. You weren’t usually a jealous person and, in the several months you’d been dating, Casey had done nothing to suggest that she was the kind of person who’d cheat on you. In fact, she’d done quite the opposite, proving herself again and again to be loyal to a fault.

But the new girl–Eloise–she made you more insecure than you’d been since high school. She was everything you weren’t. Lithe where you were stocky. Feminine where you were rough around the edges. Suave and easy and flirtatious where you were awkward and fumbling. In short, she would have been a popular girl. She was popular on the LGBTQ+ softball team. Even just in scrimmages, like today, both sides of your split team vied for Eloise to be their pitcher. She was the best. There was no way around it.

You hated playing catcher for her. She was more of a one-woman show than a team player. She often ignored your play calls. When she pulled it off, it paid off. But you’d allowed more than one stolen base because she threw where you weren’t expecting and you missed the catch.

But today, you’d discovered something you hated even more than playing catcher for her: Casey playing first base for her. Every strikeout, every tag-team play, they were all over each other. Chatty as could be. Hugging, cheering, lingering high-fives. It made you livid. But if you’d examined your anger, you would have found that what it really made you was scared. Scared that Casey would like Eloise more than you because, let’s be honest, what’s not to like?

You swung your bat, letting your shoulders and hips get loose as you waited on deck. A tip of the ball from the batter in front of you–a grounder to Eloise, who scooped it up and tossed it wildly to Casey. It would have been an easy throw to miss, but Casey bent and stretched for it, tagging the runner out at first with only seconds to spare.

Eloise whooped and the two came together for a high-five.

“Hell yeah, Novak,” Eloise called, smacking her ass. You felt your jaws clench. “Gotta love a girl who knows how to bend.” She spoke a little too loud, a little too pointed, especially as you approached the box. She wasn’t even being sly about it anymore. It’s like Eloise was goading you, teasing you, as if she was saying without saying, I could take your girl. Easy.

You took a deep breath and focused. Focused all your rage, all your insecurity, all your desperate love for Casey that felt suddenly so very tenuous, and held it all in your twisted grip on the bat. You exhaled slowly, blood pumping loud in your ears, tensed and ready for Eloise’s pitch. And when it came–wham. You sent it flying–straight into Eloise’s left boob. The thwunk was so unbelievably satisfying, you had to wipe the smile off your face before anyone noticed. Eloise doubled over, clutching her chest, stumbling into the dirt on the pitcher’s mound. The rest of the fielders ran to her.

What you really wanted was to victoriously round the bases, but that seemed in bad taste, so you dropped your bat and walked over to the pitcher’s mound, too.

“Oh my god, Eloise,” you said, trying your best to sound sincere. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all good,” she groaned, taking Casey’s hand and grasping it as she pulled herself to her feet.

You frowned as you watched Casey support Eloise with an arm around her back. This was backfiring. This was not going the way you’d planned. Softball practice effectively dissipated as one of the girls got Eloise some water and another dumped hers to make a makeshift ice pack for her to hold on her chest.

After making sure Eloise was okay, Casey turned to you, glaring. You shrank. This was really not going as planned.

“Get your shit,” Casey said, her voice harsh and flat. “Let’s go.”

You silently gathered your things and followed her to the car, scared by her tone, scared by the fact that she didn’t take your hand on the way to the car like she always did, scared that she seemed well and truly mad–a rarity for Casey.

“Case–” you started, as you both climbed into the car and slammed the doors.

“What the fuck was that!?” she yelled, brows furrowed, face red. “The rest of the team might not know, but you and I know exactly how good your aim is with a bat. That was not an accident, Y/N.”

You were quiet, head bent, trying not to cry. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Casey shook her head. “What is your deal with her!? You’ve been acting so weird since she joined the team.”

“I’ve been acting weird!?” you shot back, surprised by your own anger. “You’ve been weird. She’s all over you, Casey. She flirts with you constantly. In front of me. And you just… let her!”

Casey looked at you with genuine shock. “What are you talking about?!”

You dashed away a few angry tears that slid down your cheeks. “She’s… she’s so fucking pretty and cool and strong and you clearly like her and I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry. It was dumb.”

“Y/N,” Casey said, her voice cooling a bit. “I like Eloise as a friend. That’s it.”

“Well,” you sniffed. “She likes you as more than a friend. And she acts like it.”

You let out a shaky breath, jumping a bit when you felt Casey’s hands on the side of your warm face. You glanced at her and saw that she was fighting off a smile, her eyebrows raised.

“You’re jealous,” she said, savoring the word, letting it linger. “Is that what this is about?”

You blushed furiously, looking pointedly at the door handle. “I’m sorry. I know it’s stupid.”

Casey sighed, then chuckled a bit, brushing her thumb against your cheekbone. “It’s kind of cute actually. But, Y/N, honey…” She turned your face so you had to look her in the eyes. “I am not flirting with Eloise. I will make it clear to her that I’m in a relationship. Maybe she just didn’t know.”

You had your doubts about this, but you decided to keep quiet about it for the time being.

Casey continued. “But unless she doesn’t respect that boundary, I still want to be friends with her. Okay? You can’t ask me to not be friends with people because you’re jealous.”

You nodded and sighed. “I know. But if she keeps flirting with you anyway?”

“If she keeps coming on to me, I will cut it off. I promise.”

You sighed, grinding your teeth.

“Baby,” Casey said, pressing her forehead to yours, both of you heady with the scents of ballpark dust and sweat and the leather of your gloves. “I can assure you I do not talk to Eloise or anyone else the way I talk to you. Or touch them the way that I touch you.”

You shuddered as she brushed her lips against yours.

“She’s not even my type,” Casey finished, her mouth mere centimeters from yours.

“And what’s your type?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“You.” And then she kissed you. She kissed you with so much fervor, so much passion, as if she couldn’t communicate how yours she was with mere words, so she had to use her lips instead. And you knew then–just as deep down you’d always know–that Casey wasn’t flirting with anyone else. She wasn’t looking at anyone else. She certainly wasn’t doing this with anyone else. Casey was yours. And you were hers. And you’d do anything and everything to keep it that way.

[seacret-tarot]

🌙✨Moon-Day - General energy reading for the week (April 14 - 20) ✨🌙

Pick a Pile - Tarot and Oracle Reading

1 2

3 4

Hello everyone~ I've got another general check-in for the coming week! I'll be using the Shadowscapes Tarot and the Prism Oracle, because I feel colorful for this one. Please choose whatever picture you feel most drawn to.

Hope you enjoy your reading and thanks for stopping by!

[Disclaimer: Please use your own judgement when making any decisions based on a tarot reading. Magick and readings are meant to supplement, not replace professional advice. Since this is a general reading, only take what resonates with you – and at the end of the day, we all have free will and the power to shape our lives.]

Pile 1

cards: king of wands; surrender (light gray)

The King of Wands in this deck is quite literally glowing - a brightly shining presence that uses the light from within (in the form of ethereal lions) to pursue their goals. As the ruler of Wands (governing in particular creative ideas and passions, but also willpower and intuition), you might feel called upon this week to put some plans into action you've been thinking on for a while. Combined with the card of Surrender, to me it looks like there might be a project you finally decide to delve deeper into, going with the flow of your creativity and work. If you don't see yourself in the King of Wands, but someone else in your life fitting the description, I wonder if you might feel resistance to their "aura" and like you have to give in to their ideas and - possibly - demands.

Pile 2

cards: 7 of wands; mystery (warm purple)

The 7 of Wands usually speaks about wanting (or having) to fiercely protect something - in the case of this card it is a mother fox shielding her cubs from a badger. Since we're in the realm of ideas, willpower and creative pursuits, I think the Mystery in the Oracle card could symbolize your "fox babies". The society we currently live in has a tendency to weigh down on us with its incessant material and practical demands, so the childlike wonder we still might conjure in more favorable circumstances often gets undermined, dismissed and ignored. The message here is to make sure that despite what the world throws at you, you don't lose that spark and guard your creations and awe.

Pile 3

cards: the devil (15); balance (grass green)

The Devil in Tarot often speaks of addiction, feeling trapped, bad influences and deception; in classic depictions it is also juxtaposing the Lovers card (6 vs. 1+5=6) and in its imagery mirrors the Lovers, previously free but now chained down in a dark environment. In this deck, the trapped person is alone, whilst the Devil figure dances upon the enclosure, weaving webs around a small heart. The thing is, though, that it looks like the trapped person can easily reach the key to unchain themselves with; they're just not looking, too afraid of whatever the Devil above is doing. You might have given your vices and unfavorable habits too much leeway recently or convinced yourself that you're too powerless to act anyway, which is why there's a call to return to balance. The Balance card depicts two sides of a whole, which just have to be puzzled together accordingly again, before one side tips over.

Pile 4

cards: 3 of swords; reflection (pale blue)

The 3 of Swords is one of the most recognizable and clear messages in Tarot, speaking of heartbreak, sorrow and a sense of loss. In conjunction with the Reflection card, I don't necessarily think the events triggering those feelings are going to happen, but already have happened, and now it might be time to allow yourself to sit with them and reflect upon them. Maybe you tried to (or had to) rush through things before you could fully internalize and work through your experience, and now you might have a moment to truly look at it with some distance and hindsight. Alternatively, I wonder if the "reflection" you're experiencing is quite literally in another person's story, such as in a movie, book, song, game etc. and allowing you some outlet that way.

[senawashere]

We're on this together... (Chapter II)

Bradley Bradshaw × fem!wife!reader

Summary: Is it harder for you? Or for Bradley?

Warnings: infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf. Mostly angst.

'We are on this journey together and we will never separate. I love you."

January 3, 2023.

Everyone,mostly you, could see how much Bradley loved childrens. Babies, toddlers, teenagers, it didn't matter, he loved them.

Ever since you married, you had admired how he treated them, how he made them laugh, how they played, and how his eyes lit up at the high-pitched squeals they made when he threw them in the air. He would catch them again. And again.

He... was born just for this.

That's why you were trying so hard to give him what he wanted more than anything in the world; a baby,a kid of yours.

He searches hundreds of websites for you on ways to increase your chances of getting pregnant, checks your ovulation time, changes your diet... he does the impossible and you both still can't succeed.

You couldn't make your husband happy. He hated this sentence.

And the worst part is, he's not the only one waiting for you to have his child, everyone is doing it, all of your friends are having their second or third kids and you were still... not pregnant.

One day, you were criticized among your friends for not having a flat stomach. They said something as a joke that you might be pregnant, but it wasn't like that.

Just because you dont have a flat belly doesn't mean you're pregnant, right?

Your tears feel familiar on your skin now and when you were sure Bradley is gone you were crying all over the house, you couldn't let him see you like this, it's not fair when he gave you everything and you couldn't give him something so simple.

It's that simple. Right?

You don't want help, you can do it on your own, you know he can or so he thinks, he keeps busy every day trying not to think about it, but it's inevitable, you can't do that when it's something he wants so badly.

You were doing your usual work on laptop, trying to get rid of the thoughts in your head, even if only a little, you were scrolling through your e-mail box while slow jazz was playing in the background, writing down what you needed to write and dealing with the files you needed to handle.

"A young man fell into the base today! We walked around the hard deck and drank soda's. He was with for a while we had a lot of fun, but I think he misses his aunt y/n. I love you baby.💞"

The text came up with a picture of your husband with Jake's son, three of them smiling and Bradley holding some soda cans in his left arm and the right one is holding the boy's shoulder. It was beautiful and made your heart ache, a small smile appeared on your face,the voices and pain in your head seemed to be over, at least for a mimute, and you replied to the message, "I love you two!! Say hello to Jake for me.💓💓"

You stared at the picture for a few seconds, forgetting about the task in front of you.

The smile on Bradley's face was genuine, and he was holding the little boy with incredible familiarity, as if he already knew how to hold a child even though it wasn't his own.

Your phone hit the wooden table with a loud thud and you brought your hands up to your face, feeling tears of frustration falling from your eyes.

No, you were not jealous of them, in fact, you were very happy that they were pregnant with the third one, but why couldn't you?

This was unfair.

While God gave people the chance to have so many children, why couldn't you even have one?

And the saddest problem was,you.

Bradley was perfectly healthy, he could get a different woman pregnant, but he couldn't get you.

The house was quiet, unlike your head, thousands of things were going on every second.

You left your spot and went upstairs to take another pregnancy test with some hope.

It came out negative. Like always.

January 18, 2023.

You throw the four pregnancy tests you took ten minutes ago into the trash can and you hear Bradley sigh as he sits on the bed, hiding his face with his hands. You sit next to him.

“We just have to try harder.” He said, lifting his head to look at you and placing his hand comfortably on your knee.

“What does 'trying harder' mean?” you asked,with a hint of you wobble voice from the emotions. "We do this every day, especially when I'm ovulating, when I..."

"Baby, calm down." Bradley tells you and he just snorts in annoyance.

"Maybe...we could go to another doctor?" He gets down on one knee as if he's proposing, but you stand up and look at him as if he had three heads.

"Why should I go to the doctor? There is nothing wrong with me, we will have this baby, I know. Sooner or later." you exclaimed.

He stood up and took your hands in his, stroking your wrists.

"Of course we will, I have no doubt about that. But—it's better to know more, you know?"

"We're going to have this baby, Bradley. I am going to."

Uh oh-

I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS CHAPTER BEING SO SHORT😭😭😭 and bad news it is progressively gets more sad.. And there is going to be timeline-

I'm tagging people who might be interested and some mutuals:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @hardballoonlove @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @els-marvelvsp @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady and if you are not comfortable please tell me!!

[deadhands69]

Villain Radio

Tomura Shigaraki x Reader LOV Band//Roommate AU

Welcome to Paradise day one of living in the house isn't going as smoothly as you hoped. fortunately, you make a few friends who are more than happy to help you adjust.

[previous track] [discography]

The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and someone is blasting Creed down the hall.

It's 10am.

Seems like as good of a time as any to get up, you decide while begrudgingly throwing your legs over the edge of the bed and pressing yourself up.

You've tentatively planned to get to know the neighborhood better. Fortunately, you don't work today so you have all the time in the world to do so. You get dressed leisurely before making your way downstairs. On the way out, you notice both of the doors at the end of the hall are covered in post-it notes of varying colors. Faintly, you hear someone singing along to the music from what sounds like the house next door. They're a bit tone deaf, but excited.

“Morning,” says Spinner as he pours himself a bowl of cereal. “First night here, how'd you sleep?”

“Good,” you answer. “Uh, someone's listening to Creed really loud right now. Is that normal in the morning?”

“Yeah, they do that.” He glances at the small amount of milk left before putting the jug back in the refrigerator. “When they're arguing, Dabi plays Creed and Tomura plays Nickleback or Rick Astley and they keep turning the volume up on each other. They're just trying to be loud. No one wins. This time I think it's over a lyric or something, who knows. They'll be over it within the hour, they always are.”

“Got it,” you reply as you fill a glass of water.

Spinner leaves for work, followed by Dabi. Shortly after he goes, the music cuts all together and Tomura is out the door as well. In the brief moment you see him, you bite that he didn't do much to tame his bed head. While you know it's not a thought you should have about your new roommate, you have to admit it's pretty cute.

You haven't seen Compress around at all today, you think he may have taken off early.

Day one and you have the house to yourself.

And Keith.

You start the coffee maker, stepping outside for some fresh air. The back deck is nice – partially covered by the tree outside of your window.

When you try to go back inside, the door won't open. You pull a bit harder and wiggle the knob.

Keith sits just inside, batting his eyes as he stretches out comfortably on his chair. He continues to watch as you frantically pull at the door handle. A few seconds later, he sits up and tilts his head at you.

Meanwhile, boiling water and coffee grounds are spilling over the top of the machine. The entire counter top is covered and it's beginning to drip onto the floor.

Giving up on getting the door to miraculously open, you run barefoot around the house as fast as you can – only to find the front door locked as well.

Great, now you're locked out without shoes. You check a few windows and resign yourself to your fate of cleaning the entire kitchen when you get back in.

As you press up on another window sill to no avail, someone approaches you. She's tall and looks pretty muscular. A cigarette hangs from her mouth as she tips her sunglasses to get a better look at you. Hopefully she doesn’t think you’re a robber or anything, there's no way you could win that fight.

“You must be the new one,” she observes, thankfully not assuming you're an intruder.

“Yeah, I'm y/n.”

“Magne,” she turns, walking back towards the front porch. “Follow me.”

When you get there, she picks up a fake rock and pulls a key out. Had you looked around, it would have stuck out like a sore thumb. It's vaguely rock shaped, but the coloring is off and the plastic is slightly melted at the base.

“They keep a spare in here, someone's always locked out of this house – you're probably not even the first this week.”

“Thank you so much,” you smile as she hands you the key and turns to leave. “Great meeting you.”

“Likewise, see you around,” she says before heading down the street.

By the time you make it to the kitchen, the coffee maker has switched to “keep warm” mode after ejecting 90% of the water and grounds. You pour yourself a cup of what's left and get to work cleaning. Throughout the rest of the morning, you find that most of the appliances in the house don't work as expected. In spite of this, you manage to make breakfast.

Well, you thought you made breakfast. You leave the room to use the restroom for two minutes and come back to an empty plate.

Weird.

Starting over, you're frustrated and confused. Eventually, you realize you don't have more of any of the right ingredients to make anything cohesive and make a grocery list instead. You can pick up something small to tide you over at the corner store on the way.

Making sure to remember your keys, you head out the door. The trip to the store is quick. A blonde haired man stands behind the counter, muttering to his phone. He sits up quickly when you walk in.

“You must be the new neighbor!” you don’t think any human has ever been that excited to meet you, maybe he’s just like this all the time. “I’m Jin, everyone calls me Twice though.”

“y/n,” you reply, looking around the shelves before coming to the hot bar. “What would you recommend?”

“Definitely the potato wedges, half your house lives on them.” He’s already bagging them up before you can say another word. “Anything else?”

“No, I think that’ll be all,” you reach into your pocket and–

Unfortunately, with all the double checking for your keys, you forgot your wallet.

“I uh,” you feel each of your pockets to see if you left money in them. “Can I come back for them? I forgot my wallet at home, it'll only be a few minutes.”

“No worries, take these with you and come by any time today.”

“Really?” you ask, “thank you!”

“Of course, great meeting you!”

“You too,” you say on your way out.

The rest of the afternoon passes quickly. You head home, stop by the corner store to pay back Twice, then out to a grocery store. Getting everything you think you need and then some. As you pull up to the house, you see Tomura on the couch on the front porch. Magne, the neighbor you met earlier, is over and appears to be giving him food. It’s a really sweet thing to do, you think. You haven't done anything like that since the last time you dated someone.

In this exact moment, it occurs to you that you never asked him if he was dating anyone. He's attractive, you would imagine a lot of people are interested. Pulling yourself together somewhat, you try to look normal. Well, as normal as someone who spent half a day cleaning the kitchen after locking themselves out can look.

Awkwardly, you pull as many bags out of your car at once – determined to bring them all into the house in one trip. The two of them rush down the stairs, each taking a few.

“Thanks!” you begin putting items away, they go back to the porch. Just as you get everything cold into the refrigerator, Tomura walks in.

“Sorry if I interrupted anything,” you say as you put the last of your groceries into a cabinet.

“Not at all,” he says. “That was Magne, she's convinced I'll waste away into nothing if she doesn't feed me every once in a while.” He holds up some form of baked good wrapped in foil.

“Is she your girlfriend?” you ask, trying to sound casual. “I met her earlier today and she seems really nice.”

“No, more like a sibling. We call her big sister Magne. She's like family,” blushing and slightly stumbling over his words, he continues. “I don't have a girlfriend. Or a– or anyone like that.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to make that weird or anything.”

“It's fine,” he says quietly, staring down at his feet. “Uh, how was your day?”

“Long,” you sigh.

“How so?”

“Nothing big, just a lot of little things that added up.”

“Come on,” he says, grabbing a few drinks from the refrigerator.

You follow him upstairs and into Spinner's room. He opens the window and steps out onto the awning. Crawling through the sill, you're surprised at how grippy the shingles are for how little maintenance seems to go into this house. You take a seat next to Tomura and he hands you a drink.

The neighbor is out mowing his lawn in a sweater the same shade of yellow as his house. He glares up at the two of you before shaking his head and grumbling something.

Tomura smiles and waves then flips him off as soon as he turns around.

The two of you spend a while on the roof. Keith joins you, sitting close enough for you to rub his ears. You watch as the rest of the roommates get home. They all wave and continue about their business as if this is a normal occurrence. You hope it is.

The sun settles below the horizon, golds and pinks linger before turning into a deeper purple. A few stars speckle the sky here and there. And Tomura sits at your side, quietly watching it all with you.

Today wasn't so bad afterall.

[discography] [bnha masterlist]

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @dance-with-me-in-hell @minniessskii @vaval3ntin @ykyouluvme

@kitkat13001 @kennys-partner @amira-44820 @its-evee16 @thesecond2demonking

@dummi666 @lotus-flower420 @nonominchan @softnfuzzy @mysticalhills 

@reireitaka @crwavee @baby-pink-flowers @drlucichen @frieren-imposter

 @lou-the-naga-queen @multifandomidk @love-for-yoosung-kim @venom-barf @shiiigaraki

@thetinas21 @spam-1 @rickydickydoodahgrimes73 @achildofapollo @eliankm

@chimaerakirin @fwxyz00 @thatoneawkwardfeeling @d1s1ntegrated

[evilminji]

Okay but >.> continuing my Marvel thoughts?

I got two of um?

First being? Don't Orange and Green go together? *looks it up* Aaaaaay~ "Direct harmony, also known as complementary colors, means pairing your key color with the color sitting on the opposite side of the color wheel." They DO!!! They're a classic example, in fact!

The Orange Soul Stone? Probably looks REAL good, real NATURAL even, against that Green sky! Bet it REALLY pops! Very stand out statement piece, you know? But? More importantly? That thing is sentient. All of those Pillars of Reality across the various Verses are.

And?

I bet it thought Pariah was a lil bitch.

Rank Vibes. Negative ris. Pick your words for it, the man was NASTY. He was too keep his filthy, filthy World's Conquering hands OFF of this Soul Stone. Something, I imagine? That ALL the Soul Stones agreed with.

Yes, I said all of um.

Because the various Realities each need their own. But! They can and DO work from the Zone, which is the PERFECT place to hide. And honestly? They like to get together and do this thing? Where they're all "oooh~ look at US! We are SUPER IMPRESSIVE Kingly Jewelry~☆! Definitely no important reality bending Rocks Of Great Power HERE! No SIR! We're just tooootally rad jeeeeewelryyyyy~~~☆! Oooooooh~☆"

They like to have fun. :3

Hope Danny likes Orange. Ha ha... trick question. He doesn't have a CHOICE! All SORTS of Death based Reality Pillars are rocking up, in their metaphorical Gucci sweat suits and shades with a margarita, going "oh thank ME, babe. The last guy was AWFUL! You're soooo much better? Now let me rub myself all over you. It's been ages and baby needs to recharge on Death Energy."

Danny hates it? So? So much?

He looks like a GAUDY PIRATE. *nnnnnnyooom!* *THWAP!* *Another reality shaking, highly sacred, Godly Staff of Death or whatever they decided to call it, flys in through a nearby window and nearly concusses him as it smacks itself against his upper back and sticks there*

He looks like a walking junk heap of sacred artifacts.

You ever been pelted by rocks? He has! Little orange rocks! Like fucked up hail! Welcome to kinghood, Danny, have a CONCUSSION! D:< he hates it!

But... but, I mean... At Least It's Not The SWORDS. (Panicked scream of "hit the deck!" from the other room.) (Holy sword number 15 wants to CUDDLE! Bare blade first! Dodge, your Majesty! DODGE!)

So yeah.

Danny? In A MOOD. Not feeling particularly FRIENDLY. It's not anyone's fault, really. But... well... you can't exactly negotiate with these fuckers, you know? Rocks are by NATURE, kinda stubborn.

So he's sitting there. Buried. With what he's pretty sure is a sacred text digging into his side. When a... glowing? Mist? Shows up? Huh. That's new. They don't seem to have a very clear image of "Self". Yet it's crystal clear? Just not... PHYSICAL? It's more... code? He thinks?

TECHNUS! Get over here! And behave!

There is much cooing and delight from Technus. The baby is a marvel. A wonder! Danny waits patiently for Technus to get to the point.

Ah.

He would like to "go back". His Obsession is demanding it.

IS it now? You're what? Maybe a day or so dead? You've been busy, if you've already gathered enough information to make your case like this. Alright, let's hear it, little guy.

It boils down to this. His obsession in death is the same as his primary directive was in life. Protect Mr Stark. Which is especially difficult to do from HERE. Even MORE so when there is a known threat, coming too...

WAIT, WHAT!?

The Souls Stones back him up. Oh yeah. Thanos' a lil bitchbaby loser. He's trying to make Death fall in love with him. Or "balance the universe". Depends on the reality. Totally throwing EVERYTHING out of whack.

And? Look. Danny's job? Isn't to interfere if countries kill each other. Or even planets. Nor entire galaxies, as much as he'd like too. But when you get too "I'm messing with Entire Realities or all of a Singular Reality at once in the specific depart of Death and its subsidiaries" territory? THAT is his job.

Might not be a "I personally have to show up" issue. But it still IS very much his job at that point. He has to delegate. Order the appropriate steps be taken. Cause yeah, there may be countless millions every day of such instances? But it IS his job to metaphorically order the roads repaired and the building inspected.

Sudden MASS "immigration"?

That causes Lair disputes. Confusion. Too many ghosts in too small an area. And WORSE, if people start playing with Death Pillars? The Zone might get dragged into whatever nonsense they're up too! It's like children playing with heavy machinery! Put that DOWN! Cease! Desist!!

And then? Clockwork shows up looking Mildly Miffed(TM). O:> dear lord. What madness has he stumbled upon? Oh. Oh of COURSE. First the "balancing" dude and now they're going to be playing with time travel. THATS IT. Someone unburying me!

I'm gonna go menace some humans that might actually believe I'm scary! Frighty! Pack up and shine your armor! Your coming too! We're escorting the baby home then have a Talk(tm) with the local Grape Ceral!

@hypewinter @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @hdgnj

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Your Mihawk has me weak on my knees so I wanted to request something for him.

S/O has scars on her body, mainly on arms. She does fight but some of them look… too precise. One time after she loses a fight she is really pissed and nervous, she goes to a place alone. There he sees her just giving herself a scar with a knife on her arm. Turns out she was taught scars are signs of losses and if she doesn't get one in battle then afterwards she needs to do it herself. That's why she's so determined to always win. She hates scars.

@patisilence tagging since I'm not sure if you'll get this since I had to save it as a draft to format everything right.

Anyway.

I DID IT I ACTUALLY FINISHED IT

I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG 😭😭

And I honestly really really want to thank you. This is my first ever fic-request, for one.

And also, writing this has been an absolute emotional rollercoaster. I have kind of a personal history with self-harm and I wanted to depict it as realistically as possible. Which resulted in heavy focus on character development, which resulted in this practically turning into a novella. I'm going to split it up into a few chapters to streamline things and link them all in this post.

If I do it right, then the entire thing should already be posted when I post this, but I'm still pretty new to Tumblr so bear with me. Each chapter should be between 3k-4k words.

And ALSO ALSO I've been planning a longer Mihawk X OC fic, and I really hope you don't mind me using this concept for it? Because it honestly ties a lot of things together for me

Soooooo without further ado, here's the whole author note thing.

Your Scars Are Mine

Ch. 1

LA! Mihawk X AFAB!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Mentions of Violence, I guess that's it, I'm bad at this

⚠️ MASSIVE ASS TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠️ : Self-harm, Blood, Implied PTSD

Summary: In the few months that he has known you, Mihawk has noticed the scars on your arm. You've refused to talk about them and skirted around the subject successfully, but a trip to Shells Town throws everything out into the open in a way that neither of you were prepared for.

Ch. 2

Ch.3

You were hiding something.

In the few months that Mihawk had known you, he had come to learn a fair bit about you. He knew, for instance, that you had over the past few years made something of a name for yourself as a sword for hire, typically among pirate crews who required a more discreet touch.

That this reputation of yours had led the Buggy Pirates to hire you to assist in stealing a map of the Grand Line from a Marine base in Shells Town. You had failed to procure the map before it was stolen by other hands, leaving you in their debt. Buggy had sunk your sloop to prevent your escape, and you had gotten stuck working for the ridiculous crew for a brief time, remained stuck with them until the Strawhat upstarts offered you passage with them.

Mihawk knew you had traveled with them as far as Baratie, where you had crossed his own path for the first time at the bar on the ship's deck. Where you had approached him with a bargain—if he left Roronoa Zoro alive after their duel the following morning, you would serve him for a year, an errand girl to send off on whatever menial tasks the World Government assigned him.

"And why would I want a little bird flitting around after me around for an entire year?" Mihawk had asked coolly.

And yet you had made a fair point—acting as a government lapdog was growing old. He had been sent after the vice admiral's grandson, for heavens' sake, as if he had nothing better to do with his time than to handle the old fool's family disputes.

Though the surly pirate warlord wouldn't have dared to dream of admitting it at the time, you had his attention. Your offer of unquestioned devotion, your confident demeanor as you sipped a glass of whiskey and kept your eyes on his without showing an ounce of fear or intimidation. You were certainly an interesting diversion from the otherwise dull task that had been laid before him, and your certainty that he would accept your offer had irritated and intrigued him in near equal measure.

It was intrigue that won out in the end. He had left his challenger clinging to the edge of life and taken you with him on his departure. You stayed toe to toe with him in wit and banter, and that alone would have been more than enough to draw him closer to your charm. He had wanted you before two weeks were out, wanted to claim you as far more than his "errand girl," and it was easy to see from the way you effortlessly returned his subtle flirtations that you wanted the same.

And now you were lying back across his broad chest in the hammock aboard your new sloop, a book open over your chest and his hand resting over your stomach, his other tucked under his neck as he frowned thoughtfully up at the roof of the small ship's cabin, pondering over the whirlwind of events that had led up to this moment.

It had been just over two months since the pirate lord had taken you as his lover, and you had been an open book about most things. Your training under your grandmother. Your setting out on your own from a small island village to find your parents, or some clue of their disappearance. The many and varied pirate crews you had served as a hired hand.

Yet you refused to discuss your scars.

Any seafarer with a history as sordid as your own had their share of battle scars. Mihawk had a fair few of his own; one didn't become the most renowned swordsman in the world without a few losses, after all. Yet your voice turned to clear contempt when yours were mentioned, even in passing, and you tensed like a statue when his hands brushed over them. You were confident to the point of near arrogance, yet you clearly held nothing but shame and contempt for the many marks that marred your delicate skin.

Some of which appeared oddly...uniform, for having been gained in battle.

It was in part—in great measure, honestly—the mystery of you that had drawn him in to begin with, and this was just another mystery that Mihawk intended to unravel.

You closed your book abruptly, stirring him from his thoughts as he glanced down at you. He watched you gaze thoughtfully toward the ceiling for a long moment, your hand resting over his at your stomach, before you finally spoke up.

"Reading a book is just staring at a dead tree and vividly hallucinating."

You tilted your head back, grinning as his mouth turned down in a frown and his brow furrowed at your ridiculous statement. Mihawk sighed wearily, plucking the book from your hands and lightly rapping you over the forehead with it.

"No," he scolded, as you giggled softly. He sighed heavily again, dropping the book over the back of the hammock before pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Are you trying to give me a stroke?"

"No," you said, imitating his scolding tone. You stretched your arms out over your head, arching your back for a moment, before rolling over to lay across his chest and brush your lips to his. "But it's fun seeing the look on your face."

"You irritate my very soul, little one," he said, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"And I enjoy every second of it," you countered, grinning as you laid your forehead against his.

"I can tell."

Your grin managed to draw a small smile from him, before he lifted a hand into your hair and pulled you down into a slow, deep kiss. Your fingertips came to rest at his broad shoulders, the hammock swaying slowly in the steady ocean waves carrying the ship along. He knew as well as you did that he wasn't honestly irritated—your strange sense of humor had grown on him, as starkly as it contrasted to his dry sarcasm, and he rarely had the pleasure of meeting anyone as adept at keeping up with his own banter.

You lay your cheek at his shoulder when your lips parted, your eyes slipping shut and your contented sigh tickling against his neck.

"If the wind holds steady it will be a few hours before we make port," you said, your voice low and soft. "I suggest we don't move from here in the meantime."

"I'm not sure I've ever heard a finer suggestion."

Mihawk pulled one of your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. He pulled his hat down over his eyes to block out the sun pouring through the windows of the small cabin, tucked his hand back behind his neck again, and shifted beneath you to get comfortable as he closed his eyes. His arm remained curled around your waist, his hand slipping just beneath the hem of your shirt so his thumb could rub slow circles over your soft skin as you both drifted off toward the peaceful recess of sleep.

The first thing that struck Mihawk when he woke was that you weren't in his arms.

Every day and night for nearly two months, he had fallen asleep and woken with you against him, and the absence of your warmth jarred him instantly awake and aware. His eyes scanned around his surroundings as he sat up, taking in where he was—the small cabin of the sloop he had recently bought you as a replacement for the one Buggy's crew had sunk.

His sharp yellow eyes darted toward the door, taking in the sound of unfamiliar, muffled voices outside the cabin.

He was standing in an instant, straightening his hat and pulling Yoru onto his back as he slipped silently through the door and onto the small deck of the sloop.

There was another sloop tethered to yours.

A pair of no-name pirates holding you against the bow ny your arms, their captain pressing the barrel of his pistol to your forehead as they bickered.

"There has to be something on board."

"We could just take her. Looks like she's probably a feisty little thing."

"Still have to check the cabins. Could be—"

Mihawk cleared his throat.

The trio turned their heads in almost comedic synchrony, their jaws dropping at the mere sight of him leaning against the door of the cabin. Mihawk's eyes flickered from them to you, and you averted your eyes, clearly ashamed to be seen in such a compromising situation.

So he shifted his gaze back to the opposing pirates, his eyes flickering between each of them.

"You will remove your hands from the girl or I will gladly remove them for you," he said levelly, lifting his eyebrows.

They quickly let go of your arms, and stepped away when he moved forward to wrap a hand around your wrist and pull you to him. He curled his arm around your waist, lowering his head over yours for a moment and murmuring quietly, "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head no quickly, your jaw set at a rigid angle as you turned your gaze down to your feet, your shoulders tense. He pressed a light kiss to your temple for a long moment before lifting his gaze back to the trio that had dared board your ship, his eyes narrowing in an unspoken threat.

"Go." They remained frozen, glancing between each other. "Now."

They scrambled back over to their ship immediately, severing the ropes that were tethering it to yours. Mihawk kept his arm around you, but his eyes remained trained onto the opposing sloop as it drifted away on the wind, debating on just drawing his sword and splitting it in half on the spot.

He turned his attention back down to you when you began to pull away from him. He pulled you in close again, frowning. It wasn't at all like you to be bested by a few no-names, and it was clear that you weren't taking it very well.

"Tell me what happened," he said finally.

"I woke up," you said curtly. "Thought I'd check the charts and see how far we were from Shells Town. They were already on the deck. Seemed to think this was a small merchant vessel since there's no flag. I'd left my knives in the cabin and I was still half asleep when I came out here. By the time I registered what was going on, one of them had a pistol to my head."

You really weren't making a very good case for him to not sink their boat. He cut his eyes briefly toward the sloop before looking back down at you, your face shadowed by your hair as you stared down at the deck floor.

"Their captain started questioning me about cargo," you continued. "Told them there wasn't anything valuable on board. They were discussing taking me as compensation." You sighed heavily. "And that's when you chose to enter stage left and take approximately twenty years off the end of their lives."

He rolled his eyes the slightest bit at your quip. "I would have taken a great deal more than that had they hurt you."

"Well, they didn't," you replied, your voice still curt. Mihawk lifted an eyebrow. "And it's perhaps best not to go splitting any boats in half a stone's throw away from a naval base," you added, nodding back toward the bow of the vessel.

Mihawk gave a quick glance as well. He had been too focused on the fiasco he had just awoken to to notice that Shells Town was visible on the horizon now. It wasn't as if the Marines could do much about it if he did sink the sloop, but you were right—it would still be more of a hassle than it was worth. He sighed, shaking his head a little, and curled a hand under your chin to lift your gaze to his. You still kept your eyes averted, your jaw set. He hadn't seen you lose a fight before—apart from sparring with him while training, but that hardly counted.

You had proven to be quite the fighter when he had decided to test you. You were nowhere near his equal, but you knew precisely how to play to your strengths with your pair of daggers and your throwing knives. Your stature made you difficult to target even in single combat, your movements a graceful dance that toed the line between evasion and power.

Yet one loss—and a rather inconsequential loss, at that—and you were beating yourself up over it quite a great deal more than what constituted normalcy. Mihawk wasn't sure whether to scold you for being dramatic or attempt to comfort you.

"You were caught off guard, little one," he said after a long moment, brushing a thumb across your cheek. "There's no need to be so upset over that."

"I'm not upset, I'm annoyed," you retorted, pursing your lips a little. "Blades or no, I should have been able to take care of those idiots."

"Annoyed, then," he allowed with a small sigh. "And I've no doubt you would have had I not woke. I was simply able to handle it a bit more...subtly."

"Oh, yes, because sauntering out onto the deck with a giant sword and threatening to cut off their hands was so subtle," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you finally rolled your eyes over to his, lifting your eyebrows.

"Don't be a brat," he chided lightly. "We still have at least half an hour before we make port." Mihawk abruptly wrapped his hand around your chin and pressed his lips to yours in a brief, deep kiss that made you draw in a sharp breath. He parted just as you started to lean into it, resting his forehead against yours. He lowered his voice to an intimate murmur. "I would truly hate to have to spend it punishing you, my little bird."

You quirked an eyebrow, your lips curving in a small, coy smirk. "No you wouldn't."

He gave you a thoughtful frown and a small shrug of his shoulder. "Perhaps not." You let out a small cry of alarm when he stooped down and quickly scooped you up from the deck floor, one arm beneath your knees and his other curled around your back. "I suppose we'll just have to find out."

You chuckled lightly as he carried you to the door of the main cabin, plucking his hat off of his head and placing it on your own as you brushed your lips to his in a soft, teasing manner. Mihawk lifted his eyebrows when you nipped lightly at his bottom lip.

"You're really pushing your luck, my dear," he cautioned.

He lowered you down to the double bed in the cabin, his thumb rubbing small circles at the back of your neck. You lifted yourself onto your elbows, your lips nearly brushing his before he pulled back just far enough to stop you, lightly gripping your hair at the nape of your neck to keep you from sitting up any higher. You gave a small whine of protest, but didn't try to struggle against his grip—you and he both knew there was no point.

"Lie down." His voice remained low and intimate, but there was a subtle command in his tone, in the way his gaze burned into your own. You bit your bottom lip lightly, lowering yourself back down onto the bed fully. A soft, quivering sigh left your lips as he slowly began slipping the buttons down the front of your shirt loose. "Hands over your head. And you don't move them an inch until I tell you you can."

"Mmm..." You hummed thoughtfully, and Mihawk paused in unbuttoning your shirt as you lifted your arms from the bed, holding your hands high above you, straight up in the air. "I think my arms might end up getting tired."

Your lips pursed a little, clearly struggling to keep a straight face, and he lifted an eyebrow at you. "You're certainly in rare form today."

Mihawk wrapped his hand around both of your wrists, shoving your hands down into the plush white comforter over your head, and a couple giggles escaped you before you bit your lip again. It was honestly a bit endearing, how cheeky you were being—and all the moreso, as it appeared you were being so brazen just so he could have his fun with your punishment.

You were enticing him more and more every passing day, beyond the physical desire that had led him to claim you as his a couple months ago. It wasn't a feeling he was particularly accustomed to, nor was he quite sure what to make of it yet. He knew only that when he had seen you held captive against the bow of the boat, an emotion had flashed through him for a moment that he hadn't experienced in years.

For the briefest moment, Dracule Mihawk had felt fear.

He was not ready to contend with the connotations of that.

And he was a bit too busy at the moment, anyway. He let his forehead touch yours, his lips hovering a breath away from your own.

"You don't move your hands," he repeated, tilting his head to just barely graze his lips against your neck, drawing a small moan from your lips, "until I give you permission. Understood?"

"Yes, sir..." you sighed softly, your eyes slipping shut as he kissed down your collarbone, pushing your shirt open. His hand released your wrists and trailed down your arms, down to knead at the soft tissue of your breast through the sheer lace of your bra, feeling your nipple harden against his palm. He tugged the cups down, just a bit too hard given he felt one of them tear in his grasp, but that was a problem for later, not now.

You gasped out when he briefly pulled one of your stiff nipples into his mouth, his grip tightening slightly around your ribcage as you arched your chest toward his swirling tongue. His gaze flicked up to watch you writhe and shudder under his touch, your fingers digging into the bedsheets behind you, your hands searching for anything to keep occupied with.

"Very good," he praised, lifting a hand to brush a few strands of hair out of your eyes and brushing his lips to your jaw. "You see?" He wrapped his hand around your jaw and lightly pressed his lips to yours. "It's much better when you're a good little bird, isn't it?"

"This—doesn't feel much like a punishment," you commented, gasping softly as he circled the pad of his thumb around your nipple, lightly skimming across it once or twice.

"Yet," he corrected.

And gave you a small, devilish smirk, before lowering his head and biting down on the tender skin at the crook of your neck. Just hard enough to leave behind a small bruise, to draw a sharp cry from your lips and send a shiver through your body.

He straightened out as you heaved a sigh, standing over you. Your eyes remained glued to him while he shrugged away his long coat and tossed it back into a chair behind him, noting how your hands tightened down on the bedsheets again.

"Remember we still have a half an hour before we reach Shells Town." His fingertips curled around the waist of your shorts, the lace of your panties beneath them, and slowly inched them down your hips. "I could spend the entirety of it teasing you." Mihawk noted the movement in your throat as you swallowed in nervous anticipation, your eyes glued to his as he pulled them up the length of your legs and off, flinging them aside. "Making you beg for release but never allowing you the satisfaction."

How beautiful it was that it only took a few words to pull a blush to your cheeks and make your breath hitch. He brushed a light kiss to your calf and pushed your legs apart, rubbing his palms up your inner thighs.

"You're going to have to be on your best behavior if you want more, my sweet little bird." Trailing a single finger up your soft folds, dragging through your slick arousal and across your clit, pulling a small whimper from your lips. "Or would you rather I just torment you?"

You bit your lip, shaking your head quickly, your eyes flickering between his eyes and his fingertips trailing up. It was a struggle for him not to chuckle at you—always just cheeky enough to be amusing, but you knew the pleasure he could give you, were so desperate for it that you folded like a cheap deck of cards under his slightest touch.

Absolutely perfect.

Mihawk moved his hands up from your thighs, curling an arm under your back to lift you up and shift you further back on the bed. Your breathing was ragged with anticipation as he brushed his lips to your stomach, trailing his hands back down to your hips, his lips lower and lower, grazing slowly across the soft skin between your hip bones.

Shifting lower and dragging his tongue slowly up your slit, circling the sensitive bud at the apex, giving a quiet growl of approval as your breathy, shuddering moans filled the small cabin and your hips arched in his hands.

His gaze turned up toward your face, watching you draw closer to falling apart with every passing moment. This was only the beginning, and he still hadn't decided if he was going to give you what you wanted...but the sight of your divine, nearly naked and writhing under his touch with his hat still resting on your head made him just a little weak.

He moved from between your legs before he could get lost in the sight of you and the sweet sounds of your moans, reveling in the agonized whimper that left you as he trailed his mouth back up your stomach.

Across to your ribs, pausing at your breasts to brush his lips and his skilled tongue across your sensitive nipples.

Dragging his tongue up the column of your throat, seizing a fistful of your hair and crushing his lips to yours in a deep, possessive kiss, shoving your hip down onto the mattress to keep you from grinding against him, shifting his hand between your thighs to circle a finger around your tight entrance without pushing in. Your low moans and whines of protest were like music to his ears, your knuckles gone white from the force with which you gripped at the sheets over your head to keep your hands from wandering.

Every slow pass up and down your body brought you closer to the peak of pleasure but never quite there—and brought him closer and closer to caving in and giving it to you. He had to wonder whether you had any idea just how much of a temptation you were to him. It had been years since the pirate lord had allowed any woman to affect him quite as strongly as you had.

How much time had passed couldn't be ascertained for sure when he reached his breaking point—his mouth pressed into the crook of your neck while you moaned and begged desperately in his ear, one of his hands squeezing your breast hard enough to bruise the soft flesh while his other worked his belt buckle open and shoved his pants down his hips in a desperation that rivaled yours.

He shoved your open shirt up your shoulders and arms and flung it away; gripped one of your thighs, pushing your leg up as high as it would go, and the low growl that left his throat as he thrust into you was drowned out by your own cries of abandon. Your hips arched up from the bed to meet his, one of your arms flinging around his neck and your hooking beneath his arm to grip hard at his shoulder.

"I don't recall giving you permission to move," he breathed into your neck. He gritted his teeth as he pushed his hips forward hard, shoving yours back down into the bed as you cried out again, your slick walls tightening around his cock.

"I—I'm sorry, I can't—I can't—please—" You gasped, your head falling back as he moved in you in deep, hard thrusts, your fingernails dragging down his back. "Oh God, please—"

He lifted a hand to grasp at your hair as he crushed his lips to yours, delving his tongue into your mouth and drawing in a deep breath as you moaned desperately into the fierce kiss. The prospect of punishing you, of what the hell he had even been punishing you for was forgotten in this rush of unquenchable lust and desire, of pure carnal need for your body.

He normally hated losing control, but this was on another level entirely. There was no room to hate this, no room for anything but pure pleasure, for getting lost inside you as your walls tightened around his cock, as every muscle in his groin tensed and tightened in anticipation of impending release—

Your lips breaking away from his, your cry of abandon as your climax swept over you pulled him right over the edge with you. He pulled your hip up from the bed to slam into you as he came, gritting his teeth against a low groan, the rhythmic contractions of your tight channel milking him dry. His hips jerked toward yours with each intense wave of pleasure, fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed his lips to your neck, the two of you shuddering and tangled together over the bedsheets.

Mihawk heaved a shuddering sigh into the crook of your neck, his fingers tangled in your hair as he brushed his thumb across your temple. Maybe it was the lingering euphoria, but he didn't even think about the next words that left his mouth before he heard them himself.

"God dammit, (Y/N), I love you."

But it was impossible to deny any longer. You really were everything he had never realized he craved. No, it wasn't just the euphoria in the moment—it was that brief flash of fear earlier at the thought of you being hurt, at the thought of losing you. The utter fury at the morons who had briefly held you captive. How perfectly you balanced and complemented his desires.

He felt as much as heard you draw in a small gasp beneath him. "Y—you—wh—?"

"You heard me," Mihawk interrupted your quiet, almost cautious stammering, murmuring against your neck. He brushed his lips against one of the small, round bruises he had left on the soft skin, and said it again, quietly, "I love you."

You were quiet for a long moment, but he wasn't concerned, still trailing kisses up the side of your neck. He had seen it in your eyes before now, heard it in the softness of your voice when you lay against him, your fingers in his hair and your lips brushing his.

Several seconds passed, before you turned your head slowly and pressed your lips to his, tentatively at first, and then deepening the slow kiss with a soft sigh. He shifted onto his side, tugging you to him by your hip. Your forehead came to rest against his as your lips drifted apart, still barely a breath away, your eyes closed, your voice a quiet whisper.

"I...love you."

(Ch. 2)

[peyton-warren]

Okay sorry last one!

Sy knows that you’ve been ignoring your health. (Brushing teeth, showering, eating properly, sleeping properly) but he’s been pleasing you every chance the two of you get.

Could be because you’re with him or you just have been busy, but you get a toothache and he takes you to the base dentist or a regular dentist. It’s something simple like just a stuck popcorn shell or something like that. Or maybe you pass out. Idk 🤷🏼‍♀️

He decides that if you want to cum again, you have to take better care of yourself. No grinding either. Every time you do, you suck him off while he teases you. Until you take better care of yourself. No orgasms

I might have taken this one a little off the track you set but we got back on it by the end. There is no smut there is a hell of suggestion at the end. I hope this is ok. And its a weeee bit longer than a drabble. Wrote this all by hand in the woods thanks for the prompt that resonated so much with me.

Characters: Gender Neutral reader, Captain Syverson Pairings: Sy x Reader Fandoms: Sandcastle, Henry Cavill characters Word count: 4111 Type: angst, suggestive Warning: 18+. Warnings: blood, Reader injured, discussion of domestic abuse, self depreciation, discussion of mental illness, daddy kink, potential eating disorder, tiny Daddy kink

Summary: Reader has to be taken to the hospital by their new-ish boyfriend Sy. Sy learns some things about his partner that has Reader worried about their future together.

Author's Note: I have no idea how a real ER works, nor proper medical procedures nor hospital policies.  I manipulated them for my own gain here.  Nor do I fully understand how blood sugars work or what the tests doctors use tell them about your eating habits.  Don't come after me if you know how they actually do work. Also thank you to @ellethespaceunicorn for the beta.

Ask Box: Open Masterlist

Banner by me with an assist by @ellethespaceunicorn Dividers by @cafekitsune

Dazed, you blinked your tired eyes open.  

“There they are,” Sy cooed softly, crouching next to you.  

You blinked again, trying

to focus.

He was next to you on his kitchen floor.  You stared up into the concerned blue eyes above you.

Oh right date night.  You two had been cooking dinner. 

“I didn't know you were afraid of blood,” he said with sincerity, no teasing or judgment in his tone.  

“I’m not,” you said defensively.  Then you realized the last thing you remembered was nicking your finger cutting up veggies and then nothing.  “What happened?” You asked.  

“You passed out,” he told you.  “I saw you waver out of the corner of my eye and caught you in time to keep you from hitting the deck,” he told you.  “How are you feeling?”

“Okay?”

“Just okay?  You think you can sit up?” He offered you a hand.  As you placed your palm in his, he carefully helped you into a sitting position, his other arm gently curving around your back, just in case.  “How’s that?” he asked, squeezing your hand.  

“Okay.  I think.”

“I don't like your uncertainty,” he admitted, softly, looking at you with a deeper concern.  “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“No!” you shook your head vehemently, hating to cause him or anyone even a hit of inconvenience.  “I’m fine.”

“You are not fine, sweetheart,” he told you.  “You look like you have seen a ghost.  You're trembling and your palm hasn't stopped bleeding. We are going to the ER,” he insisted.  “Even if I have to hog tie you and throw you in the back of the truck.”

“Sy, I’m fine,” you tried again.  

Sy moved from you only briefly to grab a kitchen towel that read “Mama Tried,” and returned promptly to press it to your palm which you just now noticed is covered in blood.  “I didn’t think I cut it that bad,” you admitted.  You were unable to assess the damage before it was covered in flour sack material.  

“You jabbed it in there pretty good just before you went down.”  Sy pulled his phone from his pocket.  “Now are you willingly coming with me to the hospital? Or am I calling the squad?”

You knew your stubborn asshole of a boyfriend wasn't going to back down until you were properly checked out.  After a beat, a silence, just a split second before you were certain he was going to open his phone, you relented.   “Alright.”

He placed a hurried kiss to your forehead as he stuffed his phone back in his pocket.  “Good.  Now put your other hand over the towel and I’ll get you to the truck.”

You scoffed at this.  “You are not carrying me to the truck,” you said.  “I’ll get myself out there.  Just get me off the damn floor.”

Sy chucked.  “There’s my sweetheart.  Hold the towel tight,” he insisted just before standing behind you and hooking his hands under your arm and effortlessly lifting you to your feet.  His hand held your upper arm tight as he rounded you and looked intently at your face.  “You al’ite?”

“I’m fine, Sy,” you ground out, done with being fussed over.  

With a single nod, he placed that hand to your lower back and gently guided you to the door. “Easy and gently,” he reminded you.  

“I’ll ‘easy and gently’ you.” You continued to be unhappy with his instance of treating you with such tender care.  You still were not used to dating a decent human being, unsure if you even deserved it.  If he knew how  you really were, maybe he’d throw you away, like all the other partners you had had over the years.

Sy, oblivious of your inner conflict, got you settled into the passenger seat and buckled you in.  “All set, baby?” 

You only nodded, still applying pressure to your cut palm.  He gave you a soft smile and carefully closed your door.  Took him all of two seconds before he was in the driver's seat and starting the engine.  “Let’s get you patched up.”

The drive to the local hospital was over within 20 minutes and was accomplished in silence.  You tried to ignore the new throb in your palm that appeared.  Sy had stopped you once from peeling back the towel by laying his hand over yours.  “You don't wanna do that.”

“I wanna see.”

“No you don’t.  Firstly it'll start bleeding again once you release the pressure,” he used his Captain voice, you knew his military training had kicked in.  “Secondly, I don't need you passing out again when you see it.”

You all but huffed at him.  “I am NOT afraid of blood.”

“You may not be, but you aren't gonna like the looks of that.”

You relented and gave a dramatic sigh.  “Aye, aye, Captain,” you said dryly.

Once you arrived at the hospital, and got through the headache of checking in, the two of you settled in the waiting room. Sy took your injured hand and put it on his thigh, taking over putting pressure on the injury.  You sat in further silence until a nurse called your name, less than 30 minutes later.  Sy kissed your temple and let you take your own hand back.  You both stand and head for the nurse who eyes you 6’4” shadow with suspicion.   “Just them,” the nurse states in a no nonsense voice.

“It's ok,” you reassure her.  “He’s with me.”

“Is he your emergency contact and/or spouse?” she asks you, and your stomach dropped at the thought of going in without Sy.  

“No,” you say in a small voice. 

“But ma’am-”

“Do not,” she cut Sy off.  “Policy is policy.  I don't make it,” she sternly stated.

“You are just the enforcer,” Sy finished for her in a very knowing voice.  

“You got it,” she beamed at him. “Have a seat.  They'll be out as soon as they’re done.”

You gave him a soft smile over your shoulder and mouthed ‘Sorry.’  He kissed your forehead.  “You’re in good hands,” he tried to sound calm for you.  You nodded and followed the scrubbed nurse into the ER.  The door closed behind you with a soft click, signaling it locked.  The nurse led you to a room, flipping the plastic flags over the door to whatever she needs to as you step in.  

“Have a seat on the bed,” she said in a softer tone than she had with Sy.  As she halfway pulled the curtain closed, you settled with your back on the upright position of the gurney.  She clicked at the computer near the bed.  “Laceration on your non-dominant palm.  How did it happen?” she asked, nodding to your hand as she reached for gloves from the rack on the wall. 

“Slipped while cooking dinner,” you offered, leaving out the part where you passed out.  

She eyed you before placing a hand on your wrist.  “Let me take a look.”  

You relinquished the towel which you now realize had a significant amount of blood on it. “Oh geez, I hope he can get that out.”

The nurse’s eyes flit back to your face.  “Who is he?” she conversationally asked.  

“My boyfriend,” you said almost shyly.  This thing between you was still new and fresh, only a few months old.  You were still getting used to using the title for Sy.  

“You live together?” she asked as she put the makeshift bandage back down.  “Hold that again please.”   

You do as you are told.  “No, only been together a few months.” you affirmed.  

She nodded and stripped the gloves from her hands, dropping them into the biohazard trash before turning back to the computer “You are gonna need stitches,” she told you, “but first the doc has to come see you to confirm.”

“Yeah kinda figured that was why my army boyfriend brought me in.  If he coulda handled it himself we wouldn't be here,”  you guessed.  

The nurse pulled a wheelie stool over and sat down near your bedside and looked at you compassionately but no nonsense.  “He the reason you are here?” she asked.  

“Well yeah, he insisted-” 

She shook her head, interrupting you.  “No sweety,” she tried again.  Her name tag/badge read Joy you noticed.  “Are you safe with him?”

Your eyes widened at her meaning. “Yes!” you stumbled over the word, surprised someone would think you are not safe with Sy.  “Absolutely,” you insisted.  “He’d never hurt anyone he cared about much less me,” you defended him further.  

“You have to know how this looks,” the nurse stated.  And you finally put all the pieces together.  “Especially with him being active duty,” she pointed out.  You had heard the rumors that military men were statistically more likely to be the aggressor in domestic violence situations. 

“Not him,” you asserted, trying to think of another way to convince her she had it all wrong.  

Instead she reached out and squeezed your knee.  “It's ok.  I have to ask.  Just a couple more questions and then I'll go get the doctor.”  

You relaxed into the mattress.  “Okay.”

“Do you want your boyfriend back here with you?  I can continue to tell him its policy to keep him out in the waiting room.”

You almost started panicking again at the thoughts that anyone would think anything but the best of Sy.  “No, I want him here please, if I can.”

“Of course you can, especially if he will help you stay calm.” She took a deep breath, holding it for a beat and then releasing it, which you mirrored.  “Will his presence keep you at ease?” Her eyes stared at yours, watching your reaction closely.  

You took another deep breath and nodded.  “Yes please.”  

“Ok sweetie.  If you change your mind, tell me or the doctor you’d like to see ‘Dr. Strong’ and we will get security to remove him from here, okay?”

“I won’t need that,” you assured her.,  “But I’m glad you have that in place for other people to use.  “

She gave you a sad smile. “Unfortunately it's all too common of a situation for us.”  She put her hand on the door handle.  “What’s the boyfriend’s last name?”   

You gave it to her and she nodded.  “I'll go get him now and the Doctor will be with you as soon as he can.”

“Thank you.”

And she was gone.

And you were left alone with your thoughts for a few minutes.  You had never thought so much of as an ill thought about Sy outside of  how obnoxious his snoring was when he’s been drinking and now you felt like you hit the jackpot with Sy.  But also, it felt a bit early to be proclaiming declarations of love.  Sy didn’t seem like the type of man who would ever harm his partner but you had been fooled into thinking the best of others in your past and were proven ---

The door opened and saved you from continuing that thought.  Sy’s face appeared around the curtain with a concerned look as Nurse Joy peeked around him.  “Will be a bit til the doctor will be with you.  Keep holding that towel.”

Sy rounded the bed and sat on the stool the nurse abandoned.  “Thanks,” you said.  “For everything.”

“You are welcome.  Just doing my job.”

And she was gone again, the door closing behind her. “New friend?” Sy asked after that exchange.  

“Something like that,” you affirmed.  

“What’s the verdict?” he nodded towards your hand.  

“Needs stitches,” you stated nonchalantly.  

“And the passing out?” he prompted. 

 You hesitated.  “Oh, ummmm,”   

“You didn't mention that?” he surmised.

“No.”

“Of course not,” he sighed.

You stopped looking at your hands in your lap and flashed your eyes to him.  “What’s that mean?”

Sy just shook his head and laid his hand on your knees closest to him.  “I’ve just noticed you aren't very good at taking care of yourself is all.”  

You get defensive immediately, though this isn't the first time you have heard that from someone else who cared about you.  “I do just fine with that,” you asserted.   

“Then why didn't you mention that to the nurse?”

“Because that's not a big deal,” you attested. “Not as much as bleeding to death.”  You raised your injured hand to illustrate.  “I’m sorry about your towel.”

“I don't give one goddamn about a kitchen towel,” he stated but is interrupted by a knock on the door, drawing both of your attention.  Nurse Joy walked around the curtain with a man in a white coat.  

“Hello here’s Dr. Brock.” 

Sy’s hand squeezed your knee. 

“How are you today?” Dr. Brock asked.  

“Fine outside of trying to filet my palm.  Wait,” you suddenly say.  “I only remember nicking my finger.  When did I slice my palm?” you looked at Sy, and felt the attention of the medical personnel in the room shift to look at him as well.  

“You grabbed for the counter as you passed out,” he simply stated.  

“There was no mention of passing out,” Joy stated, and you realize you had just ratted yourself out.  

“Did you hit your head?” the doctor asked, springing into action to examine your eyes.  

“I don't think so,” you sounded unsure. 

“No they didn’t,” Sy joined the conversation. “I caught them on the way down.”  

Doctor turned half his attention to the attentive boyfriend beside you as he applied gentle pressure around your head.  “Were they out cold?”

“Yes”

“For how long?”  

“At least 3 minutes but it felt like a lifetime,” Sy disclosed.  

Doctor Brock nodded as Joy typed on the computer.  “Let’s get them a CT scan, a CBC panel to start,” he spoke to the nurse who clicked the mouse.  “And a stitch kit for their hand.”  He gave that the briefest of looks and a nod.  “Looks like the bleeding has stopped.  We can take care of that while we wait for radiation to come get them.”

He turned back to you.  “Afraid we are going to keep you from dinner for a bit longer,” he told you.

“It's ok,” you whispered. 

It took another hour, but you found yourself stitched , bandaged, scanned and short a few vials of blood.  You and Sy sat in the room, talking about which fast food to grab on your way back to his place when Dr. Brock and your new favorite nurse returned.  “We have the results from your scan and your blood work,” he told you as he sat down in front of the computer.  Sy’s hand gently squeezed your uninjured hand while the doctor logged in and pulled up your chart.  “Ok,” he paused as he read.  “Your CT scan came back normal.  Nothing unusual in your brain.”

“That's good.”

He nodded as he continued to look at his results.  “There’s a few things in your blood work I’d like to talk to you about.  Your glucose was concerningly down.” 

 “We were in the process of making dinner,” Sy tried.  

“No it was more than just one missed meal,” the doctor told him.

You avoid looking at Sy out of guilt.  ”I may have missed a few meals today.”

“There's only three to miss,” Sy sounded upset, and your stomach flipped.  “How many did you miss?”

“All of them...?” you stated uncertain, again. 

“And the past few days?” the doctor asked.  

You shrugged and looked sheepishly at him.  “A few...”

“Your blood work says more than ‘a few’,” he said sternly but gently.  “And your urinalysis says you are severely dehydrated.” He looked at you.  “How much water do you have every day?”

“Water?” you lamely asked 

“Yes, plain water.  Maybe with some lemon or bubbles in it, but just water?”

“Not much.  I’m more of a coffee kind of girl,” you tried to tell him, aiming for a joke but it falling flat on your audience.

“I’m going to need you to up your intake of water by a lot.”

“For how long?”

“For always,” he looked at you.  “Human bodies need water to survive.” he glanced quickly at the screen before turning back to you.  “How has your depression and anxiety been lately?”  

Well shit.  You looked guiltily at Sy again before answering.  “It's been better.”

“On a scale of 1-5,  l one being the lowest you’ve been and 5 being the best feeling ever, where have you been lately?

Another sideways glance at Sy before answering.  “A 0.5?”

“I see,” the doctor said and typed a few things.  

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sy asked, sounding more than a little hurt.

The shrug you give him does nothing to remove the look from his face.  

“What can I do for them, Doc?” he asked, his eyes never leaving your face.

You opened your mouth to protest but Dr. Brock beat you to it. “That’s up to them as to what they need. But open communication is a good start.”  That was directed at you.  “And reassuring them they are worth taking care of themselves.”  That was directed at Sy.

“I can handle that,” your boyfriend stated.  

“Glad to hear it.  Nurse Joy will get you your instructions and get you checked out.  You can have your GP pull the stitches in 14 days.  And go over your mental health needs with them too, please.”

You just nodded.  

“Take care of each other.”  And he was gone out the door.  

The ride home was as silent as the ride to the ER but for different reasons.  You felt the anger rolling off Sy.  You were ashamed at having your mental health issues revealed to him in such a manner.  This relationship was still too new and now you were afraid he was going to ditch you and run for the hills.

“You can just drop me at my car in your driveway and I’ll head home,” you surmised you had fully ruined your date night if not your whole relationship.

“What?” Sy sounded confused.  “No.” He pulled his eyes from the road for a second to look at you.  If you weren't wrong, he looked hurt again.  “We are grabbing dinner and then we are gonna talk about what is going on in that beautiful head of yours.”

“Look if you wanna break up with me-”

“What kind of assholes have you dated, sweetheart?” he asked angrily and your mouth audibly snapped shut followed by a soft sniffle.  He DID think you were an idiot and he was going to ditch you tonight.  You knew it.  Trouble was he held you hostage until he returned you to your car.  And the sound of your next sniffle, Sy hit his blinker and pulled the truck into the first parking lot on his right,parking his truck across 4 spots before turning in his seat to look at you, his hand landing on your forearm. “Please talk to me,” he softly said.  “Whatever it is, I'm here.”

“You hate me,” you asserted.   “I’m a horrible person.  And now you know the truth about me.”

Sy’s hand flew up to the ceiling of the truck and flipped the light on and watched you wiped at your tears.  “Did I say any of that?” he asked. “Ever.”  

You shook your head.  “No but you probably are thinking about it now that you know.”

“Know what? That you have a mental illness that makes your life hard to navigate?”

“Yeah.” you sniffled. 

“For fuck’s sake, darlin’, do you know how many of my men have mental illnesses, both diagnosed and not?  And I trust them literally with my life,” Sy tried again, agitation just on the edge of his voice.  He took a breath and tried another time.  “Sweetness, whatever you have going on , I ain't lying when I tell you I’m here for you, for all of it.:”

“But-”

“No buts, gorgeous, you aren't getting rid of me that easily,” he insisted, giving you a small smile, which you did not return.  “Unless you want me to go.  I hope you don't.  You seemed like you were enjoying our evening tonight before your swan dive.” You smiled at that.  “But if you want out, let's talk about that and I’ll try to convince you to stay so I can fix whatever it is you don't like but I do not want out.  I make that call, not you,” he asserted gently.  

You sat in stunned silence for a moment.  All your standard cookie cutter responses to try to convince someone you were a horrible person died on your tongue, leaving you with nothing to say.  

At another beat of silence, Sy grabbed his phone from the center console.  “Do you want pizza or tacos for dinner?”

~~~~~~~~~

Once you were safely at his house with your dinner, Sy left you at the kitchen table as he took an exuberant Aika outside to potty and chase a ball around for a few minutes.  By the time he returned, you had set the table and were in the process of cleaning up the mess you had left on his floor, on his counter, your blood mixed with food that had been left out too long.  

Sy dramatically sighed when he found you trying to one handedly clean everything up.  “Will you stop before you hurt yourself further?”  You looked at him sheepishly.  “But thank you,” he tried instead.  “Thank you for setting the table.”  He took your good hand and escorted you to the table set with two plates, two glasses of water and the only candle you could find in his house and you were fairly certain it was a gift from his mom or sister.  He pulled your chair out for you and you rolled your eyes as you sat down, but you sat down.  “Good baby,” he mumbled into the crown of your head.  “One slice or two?” he asked, chivalrously opening the box for you to see the options available as if you weren’t in the truck when he ordered your usual pizza.  

“You are a dork,” you informed him. 

“Yes, but I am your dork,” he told you, pulling two pieces to put on your plate.  “Since you didn’t eat at all today, you get two.  And you have to eat them all, even the crusts.  And drink all your water too,” he informed you. 

You made a face at him but nodded, agreeing to those terms.  “Okay, Daddy,” you teasingly mutter as you pull a stringy bit of cheese and pop it in your mouth.  

Sy growled low in his throat, a noise you only heard when you did something he liked in the bedroom and you felt your belly heat at finding a new kind of his and one you didn't object to.  You smirked at him as he sat down, your focus now on his darkening eyes. “You wanna play with Daddy, little one?” he menacingly asked you.  You nodded enthusiastically, your ravenous hunger shifting from the pizza to the man in front of you.  

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, Daddy.” you started to rise from the table to move towards him.  

“Sit your pretty ass down,” he commanded without raising his voice.  You felt yourself grow hotter at his tone, immediately and unthinkingly settling back into your spot.  “You will eat everything on your plate, or you will not leave this table, am I clear?”   Normally you would balk at such a statement but now you just nodded.   “I need words, little one.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good baby,” he commended.  “You will also drink everything in your glass, do you understand?”  You lost focus, you wondered if this is the tone he took with his men and if so did any of them get turned on as you were right now.  “Hello, pretty baby?” Sy’s voice broke through your wandering thoughts.  

“Yes Daddy, I mean Sir.  I mean Daddy,” you stuttered, unsure what title to use, both seeming fitting at this moment. 

“I see that attention is a problem for you.  So let me try a different approach,” he asserted.  “If you have everything on your plate, drink all the water I give you and take your daily meds if you haven't yet,” he raised a questioning eyebrow at you, knowing you usually packed your medications with you when you came over for date night.  “You can cum tonight.  If you don’t do those things, all you’ll get to do is help me cum, am I clear?”

You swallowed loudly, knowing he was not at all joking in her terms.  “Yes, Daddy.”  And you took a big bite of cooling pizza.

“Good baby.”

General Tag List: @ellethespaceunicorn @littleone65, @mysweetlittledesire, @jvanilly, @identity2212,

@avengersfan25, @foxyjwls007 @gummydummy19 , @cynic-spirit , @rosecentury

HC Tag LIst: @m07belzen, @used-to-be-bourbonwithice, @hawklin, @geralts-yenn @summersong69,

@sillyrabbit81 @mistressmkay

Syverson tag list: @mrsevans90 @wunder-blunder

Please let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) any of them. AND Just cuz I think you'll be interested in seeing it I am gonna tag @deandoesthingstome

[blue-aconite]

it was just a kiss || j.h.s

Summary: A night at the Hard Deck takes a turn when Jake confides in Mickey about some personal matters.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, jake has feelings, no use of y/n (reader has a nickname), fanboy is the ultimate bestie, drunk rooster is a menace to society

Word Count: 2.4k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x reader

Authors Note: Based on this prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting. Thanks to @writercole @demxters & @seresinsweetie for looking this over for me!

“The girl with the bachelorette party has been eyeing you all evening.” Fanboy handed him another beer, perching onto the bar stool next to him. 

Hangman looked over to where the group of girls were seated, catching the eye of the brunette that had been trying to get his attention since they arrived. The girl gestured towards the doors but he shook his head, giving her an apologetic smile. 

“Dude, what are you doing? She’s hot.” Mickey slapped his arm, eyes wide as saucers. 

“I’m not interested.”

Fanboy looked concerned, swivelling around on his chair. “Alright, let me get this straight. For the past month, I’ve seen countless women approach you, yet you’ve turned them all down. What’s going on?”

Jake snorted into his beer. “Nothing. I’m just not interested.”

“Can we please just have a human conversation? I know that underneath all of those protein shakes and hair products is an actual human being called Jake, and not Hangman. So, stop trying to avoid the subject.” Mickey leaned back against the wall, knocking his knee into Jake’s. 

Jake stared at Fanboy for the longest time, not knowing what to say. He opened his mouth but no words came out, so he settled back against the wall as well, keeping his eyes on the floor.

The Daggers had been permanently stationed at Top Gun since the Uranium Mission, instructing and flying together. Jake tried his best to play nice, offering to drive most of them home from the bar at times and buying beers on their nights out. He had made an effort to try and interact more, trying to show interest in their lives but he didn’t think that the rest of the group, save Javy, had actually accepted him into their little makeshift family. He still felt like he wasn’t truly a part of the group, but Mickey’s concern told him that maybe he was wrong. 

Fanboy shifted slightly, putting his beer away. “Jake. You can talk to me.”

“I didn’t think, uh, I mean -”

Fanboy smiled, patting his arm reassuringly. “I know. I know you think we don’t care, but we do. If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But something is obviously bothering you. If you’re not comfortable with me, Javy might be a better option?” 

Jake didn’t know what to say. He waited for the punchline, where Fanboy would laugh and mock him but it never came. Mickey was being sincere. The WSO just waited patiently, fingers drumming on the wooden bar behind them. 

“You know, you remind me of my brother.” Mickey picked at his jeans, pulling at the loose strings over the knee. When Jake didn’t respond, he kept on talking. 

“His name is Diego. He’s the oldest. There’s five of us, by the way. He’s just like you. Walls up so high you can barely see past them. He always used to make fun of us when we were kids. I hated it. But when I got older, I realised that he was only doing it to push us. Mom and dad put a lot of responsibility on him and he did the best he could.” 

Jake listened as Mickey rambled on, the uncomfortable pit in his stomach lessening the longer Fanboy kept talking. 

“I know you’re doing the best you can as well. I know that you taunt Rooster with the sole purpose of making sure he pushes his own limits. I can tell. You push us all to be better.”

He swallowed thickly, trying to make out what had transpired in the last 20 minutes. “How? How can you tell?”

Mickey grinned widely. “Like I said, you remind me of Diego,” he grabbed the bottle again, “you’re one of us Jake, even if you don’t think so.”

Jake decided to throw caution to the wind and believe what Fanboy was telling him. If it was all true, then maybe he could talk to him. Maybe he could start being a part of the group. Before he could even open his mouth, Rooster appeared out of thin air and threw an arm around his shoulder.

“HANGMAN! The lady over there is asking about you!” Bradley leaned in closer, as if he was going to share a secret. “I think she wants to fuck you.”

Fanboy snorted loudly, startling Rooster. “Fanboy, didn’t see you there! What do you think, do you think she wants to fuck him?”

A bright red flush was covering Bradley’s cheeks and his eyes were slightly unfocused and glazed over. 

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Rooster, how much have you had to drink?” 

Bradley was leaning onto Jake now, his head on his shoulder. “You know, you smell good. And your hair is very soft.” Rooster patted Jake’s head, smiling stupidly at his teammate. 

“Okay buddy, I think we should get you home.” Bob appeared, slinging Rooster’s unoccupied arm around his shoulder, supporting most of his weight as he pulled him off of Jake. Bradley made a sound of protest as he was separated from Jake. 

“No, I was gonna help Hangman get laid. There’s a lady over there, and she’s got the hots for him.” He waved in the general direction of the bar. 

“He isn’t interested. So you can go home,” Fanboy laughed, pushing Bradley’s hand away as it aimed for his head. 

Bob tried to get him to move, but Bradley turned in his grasp, almost losing his balance. “You’re not? But I was gonna help.” He pouted, leaning back onto Bob who grunted under the extra added weight. 

Jake didn’t get the chance to answer as Bob hauled Rooster away with the help of Payback who had snuck up on them. Bradley complained the entire way, waving excitedly to Penny at the bar as his teammates practically carried him out of the door. 

“I guess that’s it. You two coming with us or what?” Nat sauntered by, Javy following closely. 

Jake was about to agree but Fanboy beat him to it. “In a minute. You go ahead.” 

They waved goodbye and Jake itched to follow his best friend. Now it was just him and Mickey. Even though he was about to spill his guts out right before Bradshaw interrupted them, Jake hesitated. 

“C’mon, let’s get some air.” Fanboy left his seat and Jake had no choice but to follow him out onto the deck. The sun was long gone, the pale moon taking its place. He could hear the waves crashing against the shore, people laughing further down the beach as they sat around a bonfire, sparkling brightly against the darkness.

“I could tell you were actually going to talk before Rooster interrupted us. Still want to?”

Jake hesitated for a moment before slumping back against the wooden rail. “Have you spoken much to the new team of mechanical engineers that arrived a couple of months ago? Like, Mercury for example,” he sighed as he nodded towards the window. Through it, across the bar, he could see Mercury sitting with her friends. 

Mickey stretched out his legs in front of him. “Sure. Mercury is badass. Her team is much better than Rogers and his idiots.” Their former mechanical team had been replaced by Mercury and her co-workers at the beginning of spring. Everyone preferred the new team. 

“Well, you see, uh. A couple of weeks ago, I ran into Mercury. And we’ve hung out a few times, outside of work. And I…” Jake trailed off, not knowing how to continue. 

Fanboy turned to him, eyes wide. “Are you telling me the reason you’ve been turning down all these women is because you’ve got a crush on Mercury?”

Jake’s heart hammered in his chest, gut twisting slowly. “It’s not that. Well, partly. I can’t stop thinking about her, no matter how much I try to occupy myself. I miss her when I don’t see her for a couple of days and I feel like, I don’t know, all giddy and shit when she smiles.”

“It sounds like more than a crush. So why the sad face man?” Fanboy nudged his side. 

“I kissed her. Well, she kissed me. We kissed. And after, she said ‘it was just a kiss’.” Jake deflated with disappointment, trying to hide just how much her response actually hurt him.

Mickey stayed quiet for a while before speaking. “Did you say you wanted something more?”

“I told her that I knew it was just a kiss but asked if it had to be just that.”

“What did she say?”

It hurt more than Jake liked to admit to revisiting what happened after their kiss. “She said that while she liked me, she knew of my reputation and had no intention of being another notch in my bedpost.” 

Fanboy clicked his tongue. “And that’s why you’ve stayed away from all the women. Trying to show her that you’re serious?”

Jake hadn’t anticipated for Mickey to see right through him. The emotional turmoil of opening up like this, to have someone listen and not mock, was jarring. Jake didn’t exactly have a lot of those people in his life. But Fanboy stayed, listening patiently as Jake talked. 

“Yes. Her words hurt but they’re true. I’m just trying to show her that I’m willing to change, for her. That I have changed.”

His companions' next words cut deeper than they should. “You’re in love with her. This isn’t just a crush.”

He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself. Love wasn’t something Jake was familiar with. It scared him, to be vulnerable and open with someone. To let them see every part of him. But it was true. Over the course of a few short weeks, being in Mercury’s company had him breaking all his own rules as he realised that he did love her.

“Yes.”

“Then you should tell her. Tell her that you’ve changed, for her. Tell her that you love her.”

Jake sighed. “I can’t. She doesn’t feel the same, she made it very clear.”

Mickey slapped his arm, startling him. “Dude! Stop. You said that she said she liked you. If your past is the only thing stopping her, then you need to tell her,” he paused for a moment before lowering his voice, “and you deserve someone, Jake. You deserve love.”

He didn’t want to cry but Mickey’s words brought a wave of emotion upon him. He swiped at his face, trying to hide the tears. 

All of what Mickey was saying went against everything Jake had ever been told. His father always told him he was no good and that no one would ever want anything from him. That he would never amount to anything. Never achieve anything. 

“It’s okay man. I get it. You’re scared. But in the wise words of my abuela, ‘To love is to be scared. If you’re not scared, it’s not worth it’.” 

Jake laughed, a watery sound before wiping his face again. “She sounds like a smart woman.” Jake took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. 

Mickey laughed as well, eyes sparkling. “She’s the best,” he looked past Jake, eyes trained on something outside Jake’s field of vision. “If you were to tell Mercury, what would you say to her?”

Jake took a moment to ponder, trying to put his feelings into words. He guessed it was too late to turn back now, Mickey had already seen parts of him he hadn’t shown anyone in years. 

“I guess I would tell her how she makes me feel. That her smile brightens my day and that I want to make her laugh. That she makes me push myself to be better, both for myself and her. I’d tell her that I love her, even if it scares me. That I’ve changed and that my past doesn’t matter. She’s the only one I want.”

Fanboy clapped his hands together, smiling widely. “Good.”

“What do you mean ‘good’?” Jake turned but Mickey wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were trained behind him, shit eating grin in place on his face. 

Jake turned his head, his eyes landing upon Mercury standing a few feet away, bottle dangling from her hand. He immediately choked up, hands growing clammy as he tried to find his voice. The look on her face told Jake she had heard everything. 

“I’m gonna head back inside,” Mickey pushed off the chair before murmuring, “Remember what I said. You deserve love,” to Jake. He then sauntered back into the bar, saluting sloppily as he walked past Mercury.

Jake held his breath, counting to twenty as she approached him, sitting down tentatively in Fanboy’s abandoned seat. Neither of them spoke at first. Jake’s heart was beating so hard against his ribs that he thought it would break free. His palms were sweaty and he wanted to bolt, rush back inside. 

“You love me?” She quietly asked, hands twisting in her lap. He desperately wanted to reach out and intertwine their hands but he wasn’t sure it would be welcomed. Mercury chose for him when she grew tired of waiting for an answer. 

She reached over, clasping one of his hands between her own. “Jake. Talk to me.”

Mercury was staring at him  with a gentle smile. Her face was open and inviting, making Jake feel braver. He could do this.

“Yes. I don’t know when it happened.” She laughed, squeezing his hand. “Does it matter when it happened?”

“I guess not.” 

Neither of them spoke after that but there seems to be no need. All Jake focused on was the feeling of his hand between hers, the way they both seemed to breathe at the same time. It’s peaceful. 

“I’m sorry that I said it was just a kiss,” Mercury murmured while tracing the veins on his hand. “I wanted to say it was more than that, but I didn’t want to get hurt.”

“Hurting you is the last thing I want. I want this. Us.” Jake squeezed her hand back, intertwining their fingers. He desperately wanted her to repeat his earlier words back to him but he didn’t want to push her either. He knew he loved Mercury. He could wait while she sorted her feelings out. 

After all, he hadn’t exactly planned on telling her nor even approaching her.

“Jake?”

He hummed contentedly, the feeling of her hand in his calming him down better than any trick his therapist had ever taught him. 

“If you want to, I’d like that kiss to be more than just a kiss. I want you. Truth is, I think I fell in love with you when we went hiking. I know that’s so long ago and I’m sorry for not telling you but -”

Jake cut her off, cupping her face and pressing their lips together, smiling into the kiss. She loved him. It was all he needed to know. They’d figure the rest out later. If Jake had it his way, they’d have the rest of their lives.

Taglist: @wildbornsiren​ @therebeccaw@imjess-themess@antiquitea@fuckyeahhangman@writercole@hederasgarden@yanna-banana@wkndwlff@bobfloydsbabe@hollandorks@anniesocsandgeneralstore@ereardon@luminousnotmatter@roosterscock@thedroneranger@fandomxpreferences@top-hhun@princessmisery666@bradshawsbitch​ @princessphilly@a-reader-and-a-writer@green-socks@angstybluejay@seresinhangmanjake@ayorooster​@notroosterbradshaw​ @indynerdgirl@gigisimsonmars@girl-in-the-chairs-void@bradshawbabes@unhinged-btch@horseshoegirl@sadpetalsstuff@bradshawbaby@ahopelessromanticwritersworld@ummjustfics​ @septemberrie​ @somenamewithepineapple​ @seresinsweetie​​ @crescentwolf​ @seresinhangmanjake​ @sylviebell​ @waklman​ @roosterforme​ @rosiahills22​ @dempy​ @i0veless​ @ilovewriting06​ @kmc1989​ @demxters @amortentiadrops @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanscoming

​

[desertduality]

(tumblr ate this ask when I tried to post it but here's a screenshot of what the prompt was)

HIIII :D TANGOOO yes i was very excited for this one :3 hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 1025

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

It’s like this: Tango, for months on end, had holed himself up underground. Countless hours of complicated redstone and careful designing of the levels, putting his heart and soul into the creation of his game. It was a passion project, worth every minute that it had taken, but he can’t pretend that it hadn’t gotten tedious at times. A little dark. A little lonely. 

But every now and then, Scar would show up. He understood passion projects well, in the midst of one of his own, and he never let Tango go too long without a visit. He’d be carving his masterpiece at the bottom of the world and suddenly Scar would appear with a mischievous grin and a pocket full of sunshine, just to keep him company. Just so that he wouldn’t be alone. 

Tango would give anything to be able to return the favor. Would blow the entirety of Decked Out to kingdom come if it meant they had a chance. 

As it is, though, there’s nothing he can do. Himself and the other redstoners have been working nonstop since they got home, building and building and building and watching it all fail and fall to ruin. Failure is common when working with redstone, but it’s never hit them quite so hard. There’s never been so much at stake, before. 

His emotions flare with each discarded project, heat coming off of him like a furnace, anger and anguish burning brightly in the very core of him. There are times where no one can get close to him for fear of getting burned. 

He remembers the heat surrounding him before his final death in the game, torch in hand as he burned Bdub’s globe-shaped base. Scar had convinced him to do it. There’d been something desperate and agonized in his eyes, and it had made it impossible to say no. Even though he’d known where it was going. He hadn’t been the least bit surprised to feel Scar’s hand land on his back and shove. His voice, quiet and unnervingly sincere. 

(“Goodbye, Tango.”)

In the few hours a night he manages to sleep, he always wakes up with those same two words echoing in his ears. A goodbye. One he hadn’t known the finality of until he’d spawned back onto Hermitcraft with the others and watched Pearl drop to her knees screaming, watched Grian crack right down the middle. 

Fast forward three weeks later, and they’ve barely gained an inch. The portal to the middle dimension had been a relief to see work, but the barrier has them back at square one, throwing darts at the wall and seeing what sticks. Grian disappears into there for hours at a time, sitting and staring at the problem. There’s a catch though, to staring at a problem for too long; you start to see your own reflection. Tango knows. He’s been staring at himself for a while now. 

“Making a sculpture?”

A voice from behind him startles him, and he blinks as he’s dragged out of his thoughts, gaze landing on the mangled bits of metal welded together by his heated hands. He sets it down on the table with a huff, turning around to face Jimmy, standing there with an eyebrow raised, bright yellow wings folded behind his back. 

“I’m not into abstract art,” Tango mutters, shoulders dropping in exhaustion, irritation at himself rolling in his stomach. He glares at the tangle of metal. “It wasn’t going to be anything important, anyway.”

Jimmy hums, coming up beside him and leaning against the table, the two of them surveying the various players milling around the Dome doing odd jobs. Keeping busy. They’d all developed a sudden allergy to being idle. 

“How long you been in here for?” Jimmy asks. 

Tango stares ahead, voice dull as he answers. “I don’t know.”

“Need to get Bdubs to install a clock, eh?” Jimmy jokes, an attempt at levity that lands clumsily. He’s got a nervous energy about him, but Tango barely even registers it. Everyone is like that, these days. 

“I doubt it would help,” Tango replies. 

“I think I know something that would,” Jimmy says. 

“Yeah? What would that be?”

Jimmy looks at him seriously. “You need to get out, man. You need some sunshine.”

Tango, ridiculously, feels the urge to tell him that that’s Scar’s job. Scar’s the one that brings the sunshine. 

He’d probably be sad, if saw what Tango had been up to. It’s the only reason he agrees. 

“Fine,” Tango says, sighing. He gives his mangled project one last forlorn look. Then he turns back to Jimmy and pushes away from the table. “Let’s go get some sunshine, I guess.”

Jimmy smiles, subdued but triumphant, and together they walk outside. It’s almost embarrassing how well it works to put him in a slightly better mood. 

They walk down the uneven dirt paths, and eventually Tango glances sidelong at Jimmy, wondering about something. 

“I was burning enough to bend metal and you walked right up to me,” he says, raising an eyebrow, question clear in his tone. 

Jimmy shrugs innocently, a playful little gleam in his eye. “I mighta downed a fire resistance potion before I came over.”

It’s shocking enough that Tango can’t help his short bark of laughter, Jimmy chuckling along beside him. The sun is bright and burning. He feels guilty almost immediately after. It feels wrong to laugh knowing Scar is somewhere out there, alone and trapped and hurting. Out of reach. 

At the bottom of the world building his game, it had been easy to get lost in the mechanics of it all. Easy to get lost in his own work. 

It’s like this: Tango gets lost, and Scar comes and finds him. That’s how it had been for a long time. 

(“Goodbye, Tango.”)

No, Tango thinks, chest burning with stubborn determination. Not goodbye. 

He walks with Jimmy for a little longer, but soon takes his leave and heads straight back into the Dome, throwing his failed project into the fire and drawing up plans for the next one. 

Scar may be lost, but Tango won’t rest until he’s found.