#Except accepting love but Buggy's working on that

[charkyzombicorn]

Roger and Rayleigh were walking down the street, sharing idle chatter as they made their way back to the Oro Jackson with a freshly reset log pose in hand. Then there was a high-pitched yell.

"DAD!!!" A kid yelled, and Roger looked around for a second before something hit him in the stomach and stayed there. He looked down and saw a head of curly blue hair. He looked up and saw six armored guards running toward them.

Then the kid looked up with the most mischievous little smile and a very swollen button nose and then dashed around and past him. One of the guards said something about getting the kid, another just said they had his father. Roger could already feel the smile growing.

He looked up and the guards all stopped, weapons poised and at the ready. Rayleigh took a step back, fully aware his captain had been getting antsy waiting for the log pose the past month.

One of the guards began droning. "You're under arrest for your son's theft, assault and battery, breaking and entering, sixteen counts of assault on a marine guard, twenty-one counts of assault on a noble guard, and--" Roger decked him, his armor making him sound like a pile of knocked-over pots when he fell. Two guards swung at him, he dodged both, and they swung into each other instead. Then he took the helmet off one of the downed soldiers (it was a very cool looking helmet), put it on his head with his straw hat on his back and then took on the last three at once. The fight was over in less than a minute.

He smiled at Rayleigh, Rayleigh just took the helmet off his head and told him it made him look like a thumb with a feather on it. Roger pouted.

Then he saw the blue hair again, trying to run by the other direction, and snagged him by the back of the shirt. "LEMME GO!" The kid screamed, already swinging but barely grazing Roger's shirt. He was small, a little thin all-around, and his shirt was worn but covered in bright colours in all states of sun-bleached. His was hissing and spitting like a feral cat, digging his nails into Roger's wrist.

"You called me 'Dad'." Roger mentioned, and the kid had the nerve to stop moving entirely and glare up at him as if he were the one being scruffed.

The kid crossed his arms. "Yeah. They fell for it, too - dumbasses. Whaddya want? I won't give you a cent." He said harshly, making his voice deeper and more growly very clearly on purpose. When he remained off the ground with Roger just staring at him curiously, he tried threatening. "You try hittin' me and I'll scream 'Pedo' till' my lungs run out, asshole."

Roger burst out laughing. "HA! I suppose I wouldn't mind another son. I'm sure you'll get along with Shanks great." He said before putting the kid under his arm and marching back to the ship.

The kid was yelling about how calling him 'Dad' wasn't a request, Rayleigh just sighed and followed. "You seem sure of yourself."

Roger smiled. "Of course! He's a child of the sea, I can tell." The kid froze, Roger didn't acknowledge it. For the whole walk back, the kid was strangely quiet.

Then Rayleigh and Roger were safely on deck, a few people there to greet them, including Shanks. Roger set the completely silent child on the deck, and then the kid shot away from him like a bullet. Right towards Shanks, grabbing the dagger on Shanks' hip and pulling him in front of him with the knife under his chin. Rayleigh tensed, but Roger trusted him to not attack.

"Why am I here?! Where are you trying to take me?! How did you know I'm a selkie?!" The child asked, hand visibly shaking as he held the dagger, but more than enough conviction in his eyes. Shanks was pale, looking between Roger and Rayleigh for help.

Roger took a knee where he was, a comfortable 3 meters of space between him and the child. "A selkie, eh? I must admit, I've only known a few." He hummed. "And as for why - well, you seem quite the interesting stranger, but I'll guess you're an even more interesting friend."

"How about this," Rayleigh interrupted coolly. "We'll let you see new islands with protection from marines and traffickers, in exchange you be a cabin boy."

Roger smiled at his clever first mate. "And then be my son--"

"Just. Cabin boy, for now." Rayleigh reiterated. "I saw the way some of those civilians looked at you. You're a known criminal there, aren't you? Wouldn't be long before someone found out you were a selkie."

The kid looked at the town, then at Rayleigh, then at Roger. He lowered the knife and Shanks gasped. "Fine. But I'm keeping this - if any of you try anything I'll kill you while you sleep." He threatened, putting the knife in his belt loop and shoving Shanks.

Shanks ran at Roger, already sobbing, and Roger picked him up the same as he did when Shanks was two.

The kid stared ruefully at Shanks for a moment. "I'm Buggy. If that's the other cabin boy you can leave him."

Shanks choked a little 'Nooooo' into Roger's coat. Roger just laughed. "I think I'll be keeping this one too, nice try, little Bugger."

Buggy nodded before walking quickly away - likely to explore the ship and leave it a few berrie lighter.

Roger chuckled, patting Shanks back while Rayleigh gave him the most exhausted look.

[scarletttries]

What One Piece Characters Are Like In A Relationship...(Part Two)

Request: "Greetings, could I ask for headcanons of what Buggy the Clown and Dracule Mihawk are like in a relationship?"

Pairings: Buggy x Reader, Mihawk x Reader, Shanks x Reader

Part One (The Straw Hats) here / One Piece Masterlist

Buggy the Clown:

- It's impossible to overestimate the sheer vulnerability it took for Captain Buggy to speak genuinely and honestly when he finally confessed his feelings for you. A man who's spent so much of his life hidden behind a painted facade and a wicked smile, he tried to fight his truth for so long, forcing himself to treat you like just another pirate on his ship when there's nothing you could do that wouldn't stand out to him. The sincerity with which you speak to him, the way you don't gawk at his appearance, the fact that you never engage in the mutinous whispers of those around you. It wasn't long until you became his most called upon ally on the ship, through genuine appreciation for your insights but also his intense need to have his eyes on you at all times.

- With his feelings out in the open, Buggy is still conflicted in the way he showers his affections upon you. Behind closed doors the man is your personal jester, cracking jokes and using his gifts to keep you smiling and entertained constantly. Honestly that man would do anything to keep you looking at him, the warmth of your gaze enough to undo decades of cruelty and ridicule.

- Around the crew though, your captain likes to keep his adoration discrete. There are a lot of people out there that would love to have something they could use against him, and he knows deep down he'd surrender everything he's ever worked for if it stopped a single hair on your head being harmed. So despite how Buggy feels like he is bursting at the seams with joy every time he sees you, he insists on keeping things a secret for as long as the two of you can, lasting on longing looks and subtle contact for the price of your safety.

- That does add a certain desperation to the clown's behaviour towards you though, not that you mind. The moment you close a door he'll be on with you in a flash, all hungry lips and pressing his chest flush with yours to bathe in your warmth while he still can. He needs you overwhelming all of his senses, to fill his heart back up before he has to face the day without you again. Sometimes when he knows you'll be apart for a while, he'll tell the crew he's lost a hand somewhere on the ship so he can leave one tucked securely in your pocket, subtly interlacing his fingers with yours whenever the day gets to be too much; the powers he once feared made him a devil, now giving him the chance to stay by an angel's side forevermore.

Dracule Mihawk:

- A life as the world's greatest swordsman can be a lonely one. Going wherever he's paid to go. Never putting down roots. Knowing that one day he might just find someone desperate enough for his title to kill for it. Mihawk had accepted this life with a certain pride, until he found something else he wanted to be the best at.

- Another night in another island bar had his path crossing with yours, the briefest of exchanges leaving an aching hole in his chest like he'd never experienced before. It was like your smile sent a spark his way that had his whole body going up in smoke, a fire lit inside him that he had only felt once before; for his pursuit of swordsmanship. He knew nothing would quell that desire except giving in fully to the devotion.

- Dracule is extremely attentive to your every whim. He's never really been tied down before he enjoys the grounding that comes from having someone else to influence each of his days. Nothing fulfils him like making one of your wishes come true, his dedication to your partnership unwavering no matter what the world throws at you both.

- He would take enormous pride in teaching you a few of his sword-fighting moves, framing the sessions as just a way to share in his two favourite things (swords and you), but in the back of his mind also very conscious that a time may come when you need to defend yourself from his enemies. Naturally he'll find a way throw your practice fights so the two of you end up on the floor together, his sword cast aside as he exclaims that you are the only person in all the seas that has ever disarmed him so. Don't be expecting to leave that floor for a while once he has you in his grips.

Shanks:

- When you work in a popular port town you see a lot of pirates come and go. So it's pretty noticeable when a certain captain seems to do all his supply runs in your specific shop. Shanks is not at all subtle that he's continually coming to town for you, your first conversation enough for him to reveal that you might be the only person he's ever met that could convince him to give up the pirate life and settle down.

- You don't ask him to do that, instead the two of you settle for frequently being apart, but relishing in every second you get to spend together when you can. Every moment that Shanks is in your life is filled with fun, whether he's just dancing with you in your lovely little home, or convincing you to come with him on this next adventure, heading to a beautiful island where for once he's confident there's no risk of danger to you.

- When you have to be apart, Shanks will call you late in the night, narrating the view from his perch on the figurehead of his ship. He'll describe every detail of the stars glistening on the waves until the peachy rays of the sun trickle across the horizon, all while knowing the far superior view is wherever you are. He'll never reveal the true danger of his journeys to you, instead giving you joyful reimaginations of the troubles he's faced that day. You can tell when he's had a hard week from the pain in his voice though, so you take the chance to regale him with the softness of your peaceful day, recounting your every step and listening to his breathing slow as a weight lifts off his chest. He tells you how one day he can't wait to dock his ship one final time and fall in step with the life you've built, never having to hear your voice from so far away again.

- He lets that hope carry him through the most tempestuous nights at sea, through all the near misses at the hands of his enemies, through every day spent hiding from a bounty hunter and aching to hear your voice again. He finds himself picturing the two of you raising a family, a tiny crew of your own that will always unite you, the ultimate adventure Shanks can imagine, and one he never thought he'd long for until he thought about living it hand in hand with you.

One piece requests still open!

[juggaliciouz]

rant!! abt one piece!! again!!

SPOILERS FOR ONE PIECE (specifically egghead arc) under the cut

OK SO i got this idea from a random comment somewhere on this hellsite under a post abt the seraphims and OMG!! so so so imagine s-hawk and little croc (couldnt find the name for that lil guy) find their way to the cross guild. hell, maybe even little mingo finds his way there too, and they IMMEDIATLEY imprint on croc, mihawk and buggy. theyre like 'fathers... yes', and the cross guild just accepts it?? croc is just like '*long sigh* fine. we keep one' and then he keeps them all bc he loves them.

mihawk just doesnt care much and they kinda remind him of zoro and perona in the most endearing way possible. like, s-hawk just goes and trains way too much so mihawk has to regulate that a bit. lil croc LOVES dressing up but wont tell anyone except mihawk cause mihawk indulges him a bit.

buggy would NEVER admit to how much he loves them, but he really really does. like, he shows them all sorts of circus tricks and they love it. he could like- juggle them!! and theyre squealing with laughter as he does so and man just gets so happy from that. he would adore them, trust.

i imagine croc and them taking naps together. like those pics of the dad with the baby sleeping on his chest? except its like 2-3 almost teenage children laying on their father's chest and snoozing. tiny mingo just pulls croc away from his work desk and is like 'take a break, its NAPTIME.' and hes just like '..fine'.

THEYRE FATHERS!!! NO DRAMA!!

[count-alucard-tepes]

Soooooo what would happen if the S/O is pregnant for the second time. Would some of their Op Hotties be over joy to have another kid or just sigh and say " Welp, this calls for a drink because not one but two kids I got to take care of now "

I remember reading you don't include Mihawk, but can you add him on this one.

Please with a cherry on top. K love ya.

Haha I’ll add him just for you this time😉

Kizaru ✨

He is over the moon that he’s having a second child, since he loves children, and always wanted to have more than one.

Akainu🌋

He’s very happy to have another child. He enjoyed having his first child, so he wouldn’t mind more kids running around his home.

Ryokugyu 🌱

He was absolutely furious that he was having a second child. He didn’t even want the first one! He is definitely getting wasted tonight.

Fujitora 🐅

He’s excited, but he’s nervous to have another child. He doesn’t know how he is for Chi would react to the second child, or if they were even ready to have a second child. Either way he was going to make it work.

Sir Crocodile 🐊

He is happy as he didn’t expect to have a second child, but he is happy, nevertheless and he wants to make sure his other child gets along with the new child.

Doflamingo Donquixote 🦩

He is beyond excited. He always wanted to have more children and have a big family so this is one of the biggest and most exciting things that could happen to him again. He loves being a father.

Benn Beckman 🔫

He definitely needed a drink after the news but after a while, it does settle in that he’s going to have another child and he starts to make arrangements for arrival of the new kid.

Katakuri Charlotte 🍡

He is beyond excited and he’s so happy that his family is finally expanding because he always wanted his child to experience having a sibling. He loves being a dad.

Killer🔪

It does take him some time to let it sink in that he’s going to be a father again because he just wanted one child, but when he does, he embraces it and and accepts it.

Kaido🐉

He is beyond excited to have more children as he always wanted a big family and is happy to give Yamato a sibling. He’s definitely drinking a lot to celebrate.

King 👑

He does get really emotional when he finds out that he’s going to be a father again and is super excited and very supportive towards his love.

Queen👑

He didn’t think he would have a second child, and it does make him a little bit nervous but after a while, he excepted and embrace is being a father again. He’s still going to party a lot and drink a lot.

Izou🔫🔫

He wasn’t sure how he felt about being a father again it was some thing he wasn’t expecting but when he does accept it, he sings back into daddy mode, and he’s genuinely happy.

Dragon D Monkey 🐉🐒

He is not happy about being a father again it’s a lot of work. He couldn’t be a good father to his first child, the second towel he barely made it through and the third one he feels like it’s going to be an absolute mess, so he is generally going to be drinking a lot to help ease the blow.

Oven Charlotte 🍞

He’s excited to be a father again as he comes from a huge family and wants to have a big family of his own. He still going to drink a lot of to celebrate though.

Buggy🤡

It does worry him that he might not be a good father again, and it stresses him out of it but after a while, he does accept that he’s going to be a father again and it makes him happy that he has his own little family

Marco the Phoenix 🦅

He is beyond excited that his family is expanding and cannot stop celebrating. It’s the best thing that happened to him and he loves every minute of it.

Dracule Mihawk⚔️

He is indifferent about having a second child but is supportive towards his partner, and will make sure he tries to be the best father he can be.

[rorywritesjunk]

Brain rot because allergies got me. And I had thoughts while building a dresser at work today and how I literally swapped Sunny and Buggy's gender for the Swap AU when I should have just had it be female Buggy with female Sunny because the thing to me is...absolutely nothing changes except Buggy's a girl. Brace yourself for teen lesbians.

They meet in Lougetown (because I am a fan of that au I wrote lmao) and Buggy is a mess but this nice girl is being kind to her, offers her a meal, is just so sweet and isn't asking for anything in return. They spend a few days together as Sunny is in town with her boss for a client and Sunny feels a pull to this girl. She thinks she's so pretty and handsome at the same time and admittedly gets a little giggly and blushes when Buggy comes out of the bathroom with a towel around her waist, grumbling about her hair taking forever to dry.

They part on acceptable terms, only to reconnect multiple times as Buggy visits her work with a new captain, earning money to start her own crew. Sunny is super supportive of her friend, though she finds herself getting sad every time she has to say bye to Buggy but she doesn't notice how Buggy looks at her with confusion and sadness in her eyes whenever they part ways.

Both girls don't quite understand why they get butterflies in their stomachs or why it feels like electricity coursing between them whenever they hold hands. Buggy thinks Sunny's the prettiest thing she's ever seen and Sunny finds Buggy to be handsome and charming and silly.

One visit Sunny decides to take her out for crepes. Buggy licks some chocolate off Sunny's cheek. She returns the favor by kissing Buggy on the cheek. Both are red in the face and finish their crepes in silence.

They tiptoe around feelings for an entire year, not sure what these feelings are. Buggy is pretty sure she's fallen in love with Sunny but she knows Sunny wouldn't feel the same way. She's seen how men flirt with Sunny whenever they've gone out. What if Sunny doesn't feel the way?

And Sunny's has met folks who know Buggy by chance! When they find out how she knows their blue haired friend, they encourage Sunny because honestly, they want to know Buggy is happy and this pretty girl with blonde hair and freckles will probably make it so.

Sunny has to wait months before seeing Buggy again and getting word her ship was attacked and there were no survivors breaks Sunny's heart. She cries, is in denial, grieves, everything. When she returns home for a family reunion she pretends everything is fine but her parents aren't dumb. She puts on a brave face and returns to her apprenticeship.

And it's another few months until Buggy shows up, looking a little thinner, tired, scratched up, but looking smug as she greets Sunny who wasn't prepared for this but after wiping Buggy's face clean of the crepe, she realized she couldn't let Buggy leave again without her knowing how she's finding herself starting to feel so...

She kisses Buggy.

On the lips.

And ignores her nose honking.

Buggy is mortified by what her nose just did but she isn't able to pull back from Sunny because she's holding Buggy too tightly.

Both are flushed and starry eyed when they finally break the kiss.

Buggy's certain she's going to marry this girl and Sunny, honestly, feels the same.

[snippychicke]

Legend of the Selkie and the Pirate --Part Four

So, this may be the finale? I mean, I may get random ideas and drabbles, but the main little story is over.

And, uh, it's a spicy finish.

Fandom: One Piece (LA mainly)

Rating: Explicit. NSFW. 18+, etc etc etc

Pairing: Buggy/Selkie!Reader

Warnings: Er, this is dirty filth but nothing too kinky or anything?

Summary: Even in a world of monsters, devil fruits, pirates, and fishmen, selkies were considered a myth. Especially in the East Blue where the waters were too warm for seals to live anyways. 

Except that myths were always seeded with truths, and stories always had a habit of coming to life. 

Tagging: @tfamidoingwithmylife; @yellowbbear ; @skullr0se; @chiyo-juice

Masterlist|Ao3

Prompt: Sensitive 

After teasing your ear with his teeth, Buggy's lips moved downwards, causing your breath to hitch. A shiver ran through your body as he kissed and sucked the tender flesh of your neck, lighting a fire deep in your gut. A soft noise--a cross between a groan and a whine-- escaped your lips, and you could feel his grin widen, one of his hands moving to cup your backside with a teasing squeeze. 

"I told you, I want you." He growled into your ear, a new rough quality to his voice exciting you. "You better say no now before I take all of you." 

Heavens, how were you supposed to think when every one of his touches made you feel like liquid fire? Or how your breath was stolen away so easily as his lips and tongue glided along your neck, his teeth nipping and teasing. 

"Why would I say no?" You whispered. You wanted this. You wanted him. Far too long he had been haunting your dreams with that smile, his chuckles, that light in his eyes. 

You were ready to find out if he could be as good as in your dreams.

Buggy growled against your clavicle, pulling you away to look at you with those piercing blue eyes that were darkened as he loomed over you. "Little lamb, don't tempt me." 

You reached up and cupped his cheek, feeling stubble beneath the fading paint on his face. It was easy to lose yourself in his eyes, the turbulent emotions portrayed in them as he leaned into your touch, his gaze just as hooked to you. 

Kissing Buggy was slightly awkward considering his nose, but enjoyable nonetheless as your lips met his. You had meant it to show acceptance, your willingness, yet it quickly grew into something more. Buggy quickly dominated the kiss, his hand cupping your face as his tongue claiming your mouth as his. 

You weren't even aware you were moving until your back bumped against a wall shortly before Buggy's body pressed against you, sandwiching you in between him and the wall.  

And well, you were lost to his touch, to his kisses. To the love bites he adorned your flesh with as he pushed away your fur, bearing your skin to the air. How his hands roamed, squeezing and kneading your breasts, thighs, and ass as well as everywhere in between. 

And the noises he made; the growls and low groans as you returned the favor of peppering his skin with your own kisses and bites while raking your nails across his chest and abdomen once you got his shirt open. It woke a hungry need that only grew stronger every time he praised you so tenderly with a hint of teasing. "Such a naughty little lamb. Look at you, such a blushing mess. Do you like that, darling?"

Fingers ghosted against the curls between your legs, making you whine his name. He groaned against your chest as he split your lower lips, his fingertips rubbing the sensitive flesh with such ease considering how wet you were. "I want to hear you scream my name. I want the whole ship to hear you. So everyone knows who you belong to. Who makes you feel so good." 

And as he entered you, two fingers stretching you full and deep, and quickly turning both your mind and body into nothing more but burning pleasure as he worked you hard and rough, he got his wish. 

~*~

Buggy was sure he was about to explode. 

Hearing all those pretty little noises as he explored the body he had been lusting after. And gods as you called his name, begging him for more, proclaiming to the whole ship who was making you feel so good. Who was fucking you with just his fingers but making you quiver and quake. 

He couldn’t wait until he was able to get his cock into you. To feel that tight heat around his member. You'd really scream then. 

"D-don't stop," You whined, those big eyes opening as he pulled his slickened fingers from you. "Please, Buggy. I'm so close. I need you." 

God he loved hearing that. He covered your neck and chest in kisses as his hands worked on the fastenings of his pants. "I promise you'll have me. Gonna fill you up so good darling, just give me a moment." 

As promised it wasn't long and he had his cock out and was rutting against the thick flesh of your thighs, slick with your own mess. "You ready, little lamb?" He murmured into your ear as you whined, hips jerking against his so needily. One hand came up to tangle in your hair and pull your head back, allowing him to enjoy the sight of your neck bared to him, already becoming discolored from his kisses. 

"Please Buggy," You begged him, only driving him more insane. "Please, please, please." 

And how could he deny you? Let alone himself? 

Driving into you was bliss, making him groan against your breasts as your cunt accepted him so readily --tight hot and wet. 

Praises fell from his lips as he moved, rambling about how good you felt around him. How much he needed you. How much he loved the sounds you made--each one louder and higher with each thrust. Your nails dug in his back, sure to leave marks that he was going to wear proudly because fuck, you wanted him. You needed him. 

No one else. 

Just him. 

"Come for me," He begged in your ear as he felt that knot pull tight in his loins. "I'm gonna come in you little lamb, and I want you to fucking come to. Can you do that for me?"

Your walls clenching as you screamed against his shoulder was enough. You were fucking milking him as he cummed, his hands gripping your hips tight against his. He didn't care if anyone else heard him groan in bliss. The rest of the crew knew who you belonged to anyways. (You had chosen him. Out of any of them, you chose him.) 

[eustasskidagenda]

☆guidelines for requests 

So, first thing first, before sending a request, please check if my requests are open or not. The current status will always be on my header description. 

☆generals:

When requesting,please, show some kindness, I'm not a bot, a "hello" and "thank you" are always nice.

My current job is, actually, being a writer as a living. So I might not be able to immediately complete your requests, I'm doing this on my free time and sometimes I’m not in the mood to "work" (write) again.

I do not guarantee to write the requests you're sending to me, it will depends on my inspiration.

English is not my first language. Forgive me for the weird sentences you may cross on my writings here. 

I'll gladly accept both sfw and n/sfw requests. But, N/SFW requests must be off anon and are not allowed for the minor/ageless blog. However, I understand if you want to keep your privacy. If you want your nsfw request to be anon, please, just precise you want to stay anon on your request and I won't show your name when I post. ♡ ⇢ I absolutely love writing : hurt and comfort, fluff and funny, smut&kinks. Minors, please DNI with my +18 content or I’ll have to block you.

Fandom : I only do One Piece prompts for now. Consider I'm always caught up in the manga and in the anime. So don't be afraid to spoil me when you request. If the request contains a huge spoiler, then, I'll use this specific tag : #op spoilers. Block it, if you don't want to see that content.  Reader : gender neutral, AFAB reader, AMAB reader, female reader, male reader, transgender reader, non-binary reader. MM, FF and MF pairings are all fine for me. However, I won’t write for male reader with female character. And I only write character x character for the ship I personally enjoy. ⇢ By default, I'll use a gender neutral reader for requests. If you want a specific reader, please, precise the gender! ⇢ Regarding the apparence, I want to keep the reader as neutral as possible. But I can do some exceptions, if it's still vague enough to include a large groupe of people. For exemple : chubby reader, black reader etc. I do not accept requests based on an OC, except for a giveaway or as a winner prize. Age : only 18+ characters Type of post :  one shot (over 1,000 words), drabbles (under 500 words), headcanons (multiples characters, bucket list) ⇢ One Shot : 1 character per request. Please, give me some details and ideas of things you want to read in the OS. And if you request for a smut os, I need to know what kind of smut you're looking for, kinks included ⇢ Drabbles : 3 characters per request, or less. again, please, give me some details or precisions, I need to understand clearly what you're looking for. ⇢ Headcanons : 5 characters per request, or less. ⇢ Group headcanons : how the characters would react in a situation. a small paragraph per type of reaction, with the list of all the suitable characters

☆characters I'll write for:

⇢ my fav characters are in bold

⇢ i do not write smut or romantic prompt with Minks or non-human like character.

Bartolomeo, Buggy, Cavendish, Corazon, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Eustass Kid, Hawkins, Izou, Kaku, Katakuri, Killer, King, Kiku, Kuzan, Luffy (only sfw prompts with Luffy), Marco, Mihawk, Nami, Paulie, Portgas D. Ace, Rob Lucci, Robin, Roronoa Zoro, Sabo, Sanji, Shanks, Smoker, Trafalgar Law, Usopp, X Drake, Yamato (he/him) 

Characters I won't write for: Blackbeard and Blackbeard crew, Brook, Roger, Kin'emon, Kanjuro, Franky, Benn, Akainu, Kizaru, Apoo (it doesn’t necessarily means that I dislike those characters, just that I’m not comfortable writing for them. No offense if your favorite one is listed here)

⇢ if the character you would like is not on one of those lists, just send your request and I'll let you know.

☆I don't accept requests with:

dub con ; rape, even as a consensual play ; stepcest/incest kink ; cheating ; abuse ; pregnancy ; somnophilia, even consensual ; daddy/mommy/and any kind of family kink ; water sport, scat; hateful and religious topic ; self-harm, suicidal intentions.  ⇢ Please, take care of you and your mental health if you struggle with that kind of thoughts, everything will be alright, but I know it can be hard sometimes. You're enough and you're loved. ♡ ⇢ Dysphoria (I don't know enough about this to provide an accurate text, nothing personal and you have all my support if you're facing dysphoria)

☆some kinks idea i can write for:

⇢ if you're unsure about a kink, feel free to ask ⇢ some of my fav are in bold 69, anal sex, aphrodisiac, begging, biting, blindfolds, body worship, bondage, breeding kink, choking, clothed sex, cockwarming, creampie, creative use of Devil Fruit, cum play, dacryphilia (nothing with dubious consent), deep throat, degradation, dirty talk, discipline, dom/sub dynamic, double penetration, dry humping, face sitting, face fucking, fingering, femdom, food play, gagging, gloves, group sex, hair pulling, handjob, hickeys, lingerie, loss of virginity, massage, mirror sex, nipple play, oral sex, orgasm denial, overstimulation, panty stuffing (mouth), pegging, praises, public sex, rimming, roleplay, rough sex, sensory depravation, size kink, soft sex, spanking, squirting, striptease, teasing, temperature play, thigh fucking, thigh riding, toys, vaginal sex, wax play

[ninhaoma-ya]

Chapter 1082 — Let’s go and claim it!

It’s getting annoying with how people don’t respect the publishing schedule at all with respects to the leaks. Spoilers have been out for over a week already when the official release is this incoming Sunday. I had to double check on Shueisha, and yes, 1082 is out on the 7th.

It’s like… you’ll still have to wait for the next chapters, y’know? There will be a break at some point, so why not just accept the pace we’re going at?

Oh well, I digress.

On to what you’re here for!

(A word of warning: this will be a jumpy analysis.)

What a horrible way to start the chapter :(

Although a minor side-bob, I really liked T-Bone. And yes, that’s why Oda killed him off: to show how well the Cross Guild’s plan is working, pitting civilians and pirates alike against the marines.

Although only some enlightened marines see it. Others are wilfully blind.

I wonder, Sengoku, I really do. The name Ohara doesn’t ring a bell? Flevance? Alabasta? Dressrosa? All the people on Sabaody sold in the human shops? The people in the Blues, extorted by worms like Nezumi? Egghead, a governmental island that’s going to be blown to kingdoms come as soon as Kizaru gets there?

Tsuru is truly a great strategist, able to see all sides, although she loses some points for still condemning the culprit…

…through whose eyes we see the devastation.

And Buggy is such a great showman! He does know how to get his people roaring..

..except for his oldest and dearest who are happy to listen to him being tortured.

Shame. Shame on you.

(This is totally on you, Mihawk and Crocodile. You saw what the devotion of his fans did to the Cross Guild poster and yet you let them create the ship?)

The ship is beautiful. I wonder what it’s called.

And now we learn about the importance of communication, boys and girls:

Shanks: Why don’t you share your reasoning with your old friend Buggy?

Buggy: Why do you assume Shanks wanted you to become a subordinate when he said “join me”? And why don’t you talk with Shanks about your and his dreams and see if you can find some common ground, instead of burying your own dreams because you thought someone else had a better shot at achieving them?

I really like Buggy vocalising his dream.

And the strategic genius of rallying the troops.

Yes, almost all pirates we’ve seen have been touched by Roger and the dream of the One Piece one way or another. It’s a great move to remind them of it — now they’re part of your crew and you, Great Chairman Buggy, obviously have a chance.

And rallying the troops keeps your bosses from killing you.

And, of course, the sheer romanticism of Buggy. He still believes, deep within, doesn’t he?

And the second part – it's nice to get some new faces and Koala my beloved, but:

WHAT HAPPENED? PLEASE, FINALLY TELL US!

I assume we’ll be going back to Egghead next chapter since we’ve been gone for quite a while and thus Sabo’s revelation will be left a cliffhanger for the upcoming year or so.

Such is story pacing and weekly cycles.

But then.

Oda’s line art.

It’s getting worse and worse. I really hope they finally convince him to let an assistant take over the inking, because this is not good.

Sure, the assistant-drawn neat backgrounds save a lot, such as in the above Tsuru/Sengoku-panel, but One Piece is still a character-focused story, with a lot of personal close-ups. And Oda’s lack of time (and probably weakening eyesight and increasing age) is showing so clearly.

There are so many who would love to help Oda create this masterpiece. Please, let them help.

Transport chapter, but I give it a dream come true and a wish upon a star.

[malinastharlock]

I just wanted to post something a little about me, not anything naughty or too crazy just a little something about me.

I think I'm 36. Idk and don't care really after 21 I gave up giving any fucks about my age. Hell I thought I'd be dead before I turned 30.

I am a parent and I love my son and he's such a crazy little dude but also the light of my life and I would do anything for him. Like I might not make a ton of money but I will never treat him like a burden they way I've been treated.

I love almost all animals, except the platypussies. They know what they've done. Okay like I don't hate them they're just.... Idk they're cute af, just be careful around their poisonous flipper barbs.

I treat my pets like family. They are my fur babies and I love them. Also I don't trust people that treat their pets like slaves. It creeps me out and makes me think they think of them as lesser creatures.

I judge people to be trash people and not trash people. How I judge them is based on several factors. Here's a list.

1. How they treat servers at a restaurant.

2. If they litter, I don't care what type of trash it is, put it in the bin properly.

3. Manners. Manners matter.

4. Weather or not people return their shopping carts/trolly or "buggy🤢 (that's what they call it in the southern part of the US) to the places they belong ie; the cart corral or the store, not the curb. 😠

5. How they treat anyone in the LGBTQIA community and that also goes for those in the LGBTQIA community.

6. How they treat animals

7. How they treat people with disabilities.

::end of list::

There might be more to my list but that's all I can think of.

I am lactose intolerant but I still love diary. It's a love hate relationship.

I once ate a bunch of ants without knowing but when I realized I didn't freak out and just kinda shrugged it off, like it wasn't really that bad. They started swarming my soda, back when I used to drink soda, and I didn't notice till after I already drank from it. It was weird.

I have 2 older brothers and one accepts me for me and the other is marred to a religious crazy Karen and I hate her. Seriously she made him have a vasectomy. Yes made him. I miss my brother but he's made his choices and if he's happy then whatever. I'm the youngest sibling. I'm 5 years younger then them.

I am a military brat. My family has a long line of military service and even I served my country even knowing a lot of people in my country want me dead just for being me. I would still serve and protect them to this day but it is what it is.

I was born in Aurora Colorado and I miss the West so much. I get homesick constantly and I want to go back so bad but it's gotten so expensive to live there I can't. Also most people are like ??? When I say Aurora so I just say I'm from Denver.

My favorite hobbies are Anime, D&D, Warhammer, The Orville, World Of Warcraft, working on my PC, make-up, sewing, cosplay, and 3D printing.

Btw if you're also a fan of the Orville omg they might be making a new season, nothing is official yet but Seth MacFarlane said some stuff recently that has me so hopeful and after that last season, omfg yes😁😁😁😁😁😁😁👽

So yeah that was a little post about me.

[please-someone-give-me-love]

One piece live action review #2

I have just watched the second episode and I have some thoughts about it.

1. The intro.

I fucking love the intro, it was so cool and so well made and original, I loved it.

2. Orange town and Buggy.

I would say this section divides into two more sections.

The good and the bad.

The good.

Buggy's actor. Gosh, he did an amazing performance, even amazing is short, it was gorgeous, incredible, beautiul performance, from far the best acting I've seen in all the anime live action, incredible.

Orange town and the circus. The theme was incredible, they created this spooky and creepy vibe, the fact that Buggy not only destroyeed the town but also hold hostage the people from it as a forced public forcing them to do whatever they want was easily the most fucked up scene in these two episodes.

Cinematography. Again, it's stunning and beautiful.

And my favorite thing in this episode. Luffy's flashback.

I am still feeling sensitive remembering about this scene. I just think they completely understand their characters and message, the way that even with some adaptations, almost every scene is the same but gosh the heart and pureness, I can feel the love from the creators and actors to One piece, it just feel so magical and exciting as their original counterparts.

And oh my- Shank's actor stole my heart, there was this scene when Luffy is talking about growing up becoming a pirate and stuff and Shhanks just looked at him with such a heartwarming look and my heart just melt and the scene with the sea monster gave me chills.

It was so fantastica well done, Luffy's child actor was so amazing, it's a pity that we won't be able to see him later if they decided to adapt more because he would be older but whatever, he deserved to have recognition.

3. The cgi.

Hell they did an stunning job with the cgi, everything look so good, the chop chop, the effect with Buggy's part, Luffy's rubber df, everything was great and amazing. So many kudos to the vfx, animators, etc who worked so hard.

Now the bad.

1. I am little confused with Zoro and Luffy's bond.

I liked their dynamic but I feel they kinda rushed their familiarity, in the original, Luffy and Zoro interacted more even before fighting captaiin Morgan and the way Luffy got to Zoro became part of his crew made us notice two things:

1. Zoro keeps his words.

2. Zoro knows exactly where he is going.

But obviously the live action had to made some changes to include everything and cut some things, which is fine, I was expecting a lower rythm to their bond since their beginning was more like stranger to stranger and there wasn't any indicator of Zoro accepting or becoming escentially closer to Luffy.

Sure Luffy frees him, which I thought that it could be an indicator of Zoro to feel bad for him and do the same but the way he spoke about Luffy seems he already developed the closeness and loyalty that we all know.

I just think I have to say this because I am not evaluating this as like:"Oh this didn't happen in the manga" but more like "This have to be lower in order to follow the logic of the live action".

2. Buggy.

Yeah, I loved Buggy so much and I praised him like an idiot for like hours but I do have to say it didn't feel so much Buggy, there was some moments that I feel like if I was watching some version of the Joker with the chop chop fruit than the pathetic and favorite clown we all know and love.

Just that, hopefully they don't mantain this joker vibe and developed the vibe we all know and love.

3. Shell's town.

Everything good, except that they igmored almost completely Shushu, I know it's a dog and it's a stupid thing to complain but Idk I just adored that dog sm.

4. Garp.

The same complain from the last review.

5. Morgan's situation.

Well this is actually a decisiton that I do think they did bad, I didn't like that Morgan have to be arrested by Garp at all, like in the whole thing of him describing justice and then arresting Morgan. I think Luffy defeating Morgan was more appropiate and smth they could still follow, not necessary Morgan still being the captain until Garp came and arrested him.

I understand bc the time they couldn't put a lot but that doesn't mean that some changes are not always completely free of criiticsm.

Conclusion.

Great episode, more emotional and more intereting, there's some things to complain but until now pretty good.

[freemints30]

Beta Reading feed back And Advice

Okay, so far. Ive recently received feed back from 3/4 of all my betas all with similar complaints and praises. Celebration and crying time cus... I gotta edit. Honestly its kinda difficult to find people willing to read dead dove fiction online with out turning them away. A huge list of trigger warnings are like bear repellant and explaining that you are not creep is even harder.

Im very much thankfully in managing to get the ones I did, thou so my search was not invain. I'm glad nuances I tried to display in how my characters are actually traumatized individuals came off. I kinda was worried I was going to far even thou alot of things were based on myself. Including Loukas' extreme poor sense of self worth through out the entire narration I'm glad some understood the subtle crush Loukas had on his uncle and how his memories of their time together were not all that accurate. Something I can't belive Im typing but yeah, the boy is going through a hard time. Let him have peace with his meals.

The main issue seems to be pacing in the 1st half where the majority of the complaints come from Alot of budding authors like myself may be wondering;

"LIsten freak how did your trash got readers?" Well a thing to note is critique swaps. I go zero responses on my posts requests. However I got people accepting when I offered to beta read their own work. Usually I took work between 30k-150k words and stuff I know I would enjoy. I usually read and give indeph feed back within a day with as many inline comments as possible. That usually encourages people to give indeph and speedy feed back themselves. I also had a fan of my web novel version who was willing to do with with out the exception of a swap. So if you got fans you can use them. PLACES TO FIND BETA READERS

Beta Reader.IO

I managed to get a critique swap via the person reaching out to me rather than me reaching out them. Its rather buggy and having a free account makes casting a wide net next to impossible with your limited amount of invites you can send.

Ive also been ghosted here before.

However it has a very robust review system and the people who do beta are very very depth with reviews. I guess if you are willing to pay you would get a wider variety but the beta I got here turned into a fan and wish to read the rest of my books. So a win Reddit

Particularly r/betareader

I know... I know but here me out.

I believe for most genres like YA books and fantasy its the best place to find people. I got two of my betas from a critique swap here and they have been lovely. You can usually make a request and there would be someone willing.

But note LGBTQ+ works that are more sapphic are what gets more replies compared to MM (unless its in a niche like omega verse). So if you do something niche like lit fiction or like me gay, male and disturbing. You better start hustling and reaching out to works similar to critique swap.

But overall Im happy with the response I got. And do encourage everyone to get some betas. Its worth it and who know? maybe you'll get a fan from it

[aeempress]

Apritello Express Evidences, part 1

Greetings, Apritello enthusiasts and attention! Here comes a loong post is written by totally nerd. You've been warned. Here we go.

The thing is that Apritello is a double-edged sword. The series shows us established friendship of these two, give us a lot of content with them. We can see development of relationship through interaction between the characters, their reaction about the situations they are put in. We can sense their synergy and bound through the show.

Donnie and April have incredible chemistry, and both options, brotp and otp seems fine to me.

But let me tell you why I ship them.

Apritello is the kind of pairings, which consists of small details, hints, that's hidden, but if you're sharp and attentive one, you will notice that. Apritello has a strong foundation: the best friends trope.

And from the very beginning, it works as planned.

When I start watching show, I could say that April and Donnie are best friends. It is worth noting that April is like an older sister to the other brothers, more of a sisterly figure than a friend, but with Donnie she behaves somewhat differently, namely, as best friend. Obviously, she sets him apart from his brothers, although girl tries to pay attention to all of them equally. And Donnie behaves as well.

Dee's battle shell designs for April needs as well as his. His shell transform into comfy spot for taking ride for April. Special and only for her. Because his bros are not supposed to use it (at least, he carries no one on his back), Donnie carries them by his techno-bó or his limbs.

This tiny detail shows his special treatment to her. April is a very, very special occasion to D. Don does care about her comfort, he accept the way she is. Donatello does not try to prevent her from participating in their affairs because he respects her decisions and is pleased that April can be shoulder to shoulder with him.

D is glad to be at her service.

Yeah, Dee's still playing cool, he has image to perform as tough and coolheaded guy. So Don doesn't show his intentions, interest and feeling to other people (he's tryin', but fails). Because his actions matter. They are always small, hidden, but meaningful.

April, in return, trusts Dee and depends on his tech, even knowing what his inventions are the opposite of success (usually).

Go on. Look at Donnie's facial expressions and body language when April is near.

Donnie seems more relaxed when she's around, happier. His emotional response is always different from his brothers ones.

Oh, and look, he wanted to be first to give her a high three.

They worry about each other. Look at Don. He does worry about her way more than his brothers. Yeah, they all want to protect her, but Donnie is more expressive.

Mayham has no particular sympathy for the brothers: he is afraid of Raph and behaves aggressively, he is indifferent to Leo and Mikey. Mayham immediately takes a liking to April. And then the details come back: he let Donnie touch his neck. The most vulnerable place for any living creation, for a second. Let him to study an important vial without any hesitation. Mayham depends on April trust for Donnie. When everything goes wrong for Don, the little doggie comes to his rescue, just as April would have done. Is the hint transparent enough?

We can see links with "A mystic library", wherе Donnie begins to look for solutions to save April's pet. Yes, this may seem like his next leap, "sit down, I'm smart, and now I'll solve all the problems, watch and learn," but Don says one phrase that opens up the veil of the second plan, what happens behind the scenes. "My illiteral colleagues and I was conducting a mustic research, with a life of the beloved pet, hanging in a bounce".

Strange wording, Donatello. Beloved pet? Not yours, as we can see. I can say, that everything in this sentence is true, but Donnie and Mayham has something more.

Continue. Next episode "Origami tsunami". Interactions are kept to a minimum, as April herself appears for a maximum of 5 minutes in the series itself. But devil is always in the details, dear friends.

When April was attacked and hung up, the only one who excitedly called out to her was Donny. Raph is furious that the thieves have escaped, Leo is frustrated that their plan has failed, and Mikey is worried about the salami.

Yeah, we didn't see his worries about her when she fell, because Donnie is on the mission and must be coolheaded turtle, and second, he's calm because now April life is safe and sound, out of the danger.

Dear passangers, Apritello Express arrives to the next station - episode "War and Pizza".

Bare facts:

1. April has Donnie's number on an emergency call.

2. "Anything for you"

3. Donnie is the reason why Alberto knows April's name.

No one calles April by her name (except for Donnie, while phone call, but Alberto wasn't nearby) it was "Captain O'Neil" by her chief, her badge seems blank. And yeah, you can say, that's just economy of budget, but I assure you: in the first episode we were shown the name of the delivery guy. The animators were not lazy bones and wrore "Stewart" on his badge. So if something isn't there, then it either shouldn't be there, or it really isn't, that's how this show works.

So, the reason explained in the episode. When Al has short circuit, parts of its new code flashed through its mind.

Info about April was in its memory, in its code. Alberto was a lame animatronic, and it seems somewhat outdated. I do really doubt about Alberto is being something smartass machine with complicated AI like Freddy's Pizza's ones. Quite questionable. Donatello fix Al's brain and wrote code, synchronize with his remote control. He put information about Cap O'Neil into animatronic's head. All this pictures are kind of massage: "You was created for birthday celebrations. You are machine, and there concepts of "life" and "birth". Do great party for this birthday kid and April won't be like this". Or, something like that.

So Alberto did - do a memorable party. And he do what his creator programmed him to do, but in his way.

4. In other words, Alberto was a tool to impress April. Don flaunts himself in front of her, stating how he did the upgrade while doing the upgrade, even though April is fully aware of his tech wizard. And his abilities supposed to help Cap O'Neil to finish the birthday party, so she will stay at her job, not fired. All thanks to Donnie and his upgrade Alberto. (Or not)

By the way, Donnie was the last to leave April in ruined "Alberto's". And it's not an isolated case, it is a pattern.

5. They understand each other without words.

First, Donny came at her at the speed of light. Second, she hadn't even finished speaking before Dee was taking Al apart. Third, their chaotic, well-coordinated work? Donnie was a distraction (although he wanted to just take a break from the battle or let Alberto's guard down, while April just knocked him out). Donnie and April are great team, and sometimes the DonniexApril team is much more precise, coordinated, and interdependent than the DonniexBrothers one.

D&A feel each other and anticipate each other's actions, their skills complement each other, creating an incredible synergy of their interaction. They act as a whole, while it's not always possible with his brothers, even though they're family and know each other the way more Donnie know April. And Dee hasn't trained with cap O'Neil.

Donatello didn't show his crush for April. No puppy, loving eyes, no lovey-dovey speeches, no planning schemes (at least, the audience don't see one) . He just want her attention, but stays cool and hidden. D is already her BFF, but still.

The same thing is claimed in 5B episode - Mascot Melee. Donnie has no problems with interaction with idol of his childhood - Atomic Lass. She'd put Leo in a stupor, but Donnie? He playfully challenges her to a dance duel. Yes, he adores this character, who may have become his measure of the attractiveness of others to Donatello, determined his type. But still, he's playing all cool and confident guy, he's really smooth with girls, so you will never see a puppy loving eyes from him. Only two things can betray him at this point: his voice and his body language. Remember, how's soft his voice became for Atomic Lass? Now I want you to remember the scene before, in turtle tank, when April sent guys a meme.

D is the first to respond to the message, despite the fact that Mikey is sitting closest to the screen. And the responding is a little too emotional for this situation, don't you think?

And this face of his. And he comments it. He likes her sense of humour.

The only difference between April and Atomic Lass is that the first one is a real girl who is a friend of their family, practically a member of it; and the other one is just a fictional character. It is easier to say about love for a fictional character, because it brings less problems for a teenager, especially when he is living with three brothers and a father who likes to tease as well. Donatello needs to be careful and outline the area of emotions he could show, so that he does not get hurt.

Now, dear passangers, we are returning to the previous episode, shall we?

Donnie presents to his brothers his precious Turtle tank, but she's gone, and it's really necessary to find out, who has taken her. And the first person to suspect is April.

Something is odd, don't you think? Yeah, Raphael has taken tyre for their "Midnight special", Leo claimed that Donnie's stuff is common, but they are D's beothers. It's natural for family to borrow(stole) stuff of each other. But this trend was not observed in April. She would never steal anything from Donnie, much less steal anything from him.

Actually, there is a good, logical and solid explanation here. April was number 1 in Donatello' suspect list, because he simply told her about Turtle tank. His brothers didn't know he were working at Moon buggy, except Mikey (Orange helps Dee get the vehicle from Repomantis), but they didn't know what exactly Donnie was working for. They didn't know he build the Turtle tank, he kept it a secret, to surprise his brothers. But April knew.

- Alright you! Where's our turtle tank?

- Hi, DONNIE. You have 9 seconds to say, why are you just broke my door.

- Someone's stole Donnie's turtle tank.

- Haha-ow, I see. As your best friend, you naturally suspect me.

- She gets it!

- Oh-ho, don't give me that! You're the only one could taken it!

The only one, because she knew about it.

As Splints said in this episode - "April is not a snitch"

Donatello does trust April and share with her both, sorrows and joys. But we are not shown this directly. We do not see the action itself, we do not see their calls and conversations on the phone late at night, we only see the consequence. We have no choice and take it as a given.

And the way she cooled him down? Fast, efficient, and Donnie seems to used to it. Moreover, she slapped everyone, but still, she throw Don out of window the last. However, why such a large time delay between him, being slapped and him, was throwing out of the window?

And my favourite scene. It was obvious that Donnie had taken the hardest hit (judging by his scream and the way he was putting his knuckles back in place). Don then claims that their inner circle is secure, Mikey tries to make amends for everyone, and April agrees, blowing them a kiss and closing the window. Cute and mean, isn't it? (You're cute! but mean! why do I always go for your type?! - ep. War and Pizza)

Nota bene: Donnie wouldn't apologize to April. Tough, not caring badass boy image, remember? Even to best friends. It's hard to him to express his feelings by using words, he cannot do it in proper way. But he has Mikey, who is so alike inner him. Michelangelo apologizes not only for himself, but for D mostly, because D starts suspected April.

Let's continue: the episode 8B: Hypno Part Deux

• Donnie put "Donnie's blocker" at April's phone to protect her.

It's common thing that your friend install some programs or apps on your device. But you will always ask your friend to do such a favour, and you will always know about what, when and where were installed on your phone.

And April didn't know Donnie had done something with her phone. It was a real surprise for her, to see blocker with "Donnie says no-no-no".

And you know, the interface of his app. The way he tell this current phrase. Donnie could put a huge banner "THE APP YOU WANT DOWNLOAD TO IS A REAL PIECE OF GARBAGE", as usual antiviruses do. But no, voice interface. It makes the app more personal and thoughtful. Because when Don made gifts for his brother, the program was voiced by a computer-generated female voice. Yes, the tank's interface is voiced by Donatello himself, but his voice sounds more like Google than the real Don. And, we talking about HIS BABEY, for a second. Bit still, the point remains.

• Also, Dale.

Dale is nerdy boy in purple, wow, how convenient for making a parallel with certain purple turtle.

But thing is, April doesn't like Dale. He's clingy, remora guy, who has a little obsession with April, even he's not harmful, still, such behaviour freaks girls (and not them only) out. Her classmate is usually tell her what April O'Neil is "his favourite person" and he loves her. There is little that is attractive about this behavior.

So, there is nothing new and unpredictable here that Dale was rejected. Because April didn't, doesn't and won't like him because of his lame personality and strange behaviour. Our girl in yellow do right thing: she clearly sets personal boundaries and does not allow any dubious personalities to invade them. So that's the reason she refuses to go on a date with him at the end. He's weird, obsessed, and she doesn't like him.

Donatello, as far as I concerned from different versions of TMNT, was always a little obsessive with some things. And, you know, putting a blocker inside your best friend's phone seems a little weird, because it's, in simple words, violation of privacy and personal space. And there are people who may regard this as stalking or sorta.

Yeah, for the most part, he gets away with it, not only because April's focus is in a different area, but also because their bond is stronger than April's with anyone else at school.

She has known him for years. Donnie is her best friend. I can't say that it's fine to her when Dee violates her personal space - her phone, but April can accept Donatello's personality in general.

And he does really have good intentions. Donnie installed this blocker, developed by himself only for one reason: to protect personal space April from fishy apps from nowhere, from being hacked and etc. Don knew her too well, how much she depends on stupid apps that will distract her. He also knew well, that he can't be with her 24/7 to fix problems with April's phone, so Dee put a part of himself to prevent any harm in the future.

And again, "Donnie's gifts"'s vibes. Donatello genuinely cared about April, because he wrote, coded, developed, designed, and dubbed it, turned on the database, and installed it all on April's phone. 'cause, you know, writing programs in general is a bit of a hassle, but writing an antivirus is much more difficult, because viruses are changing, and questionable applications are finding ways to bypass. Do you feel how much effort Dee put in for her?

But Donatello didn't mean to fix April, as he tried to do with his brothers. Purple turtle accepts this girl the way she is, and tries his best to play smoothly with April, by adjusting, not being passive aggressive jerk. It's his outstanding way to show his caring nature, soft side.

Remember, small but meaningful actions.

Maybe, Donnie also can foresee that April may be forced to download some suspicious program, but still, it work: he managed to prevent April being hypnotized, even if couldn't be physically with April at the this moment - Dee was working for Repo Mantis, building dog's paradise for Todd. That's why, by the way, Leo and Raph were dragged into this whole situation. Mayham would teleported literally anyone to help his hostess. Donnie just wasn't at the Lair at the moment.

And on this note, we'll take a break for now. Stay tuned, expect parsing of the series, there's a lot to discuss.

Part 2

Part 3

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Forever

One Shot: Snack

Summary: Katie’s hungry…and there’s only one snack she’s pining for.

Warnings: Language!! Smut (NSFW)

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Rogers (nee Stark)

A/N:  If you are currently reading Stark Spangled Banner for the first time as it is being reposted then this contains MAJOR SPOILERS and I recommend you wait until you’ve finished so you don’t spoil anything!

This was more self gratification after seeing the photo below...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Steve grabbed his thermos mug full of coffee before he headed out to the hallway, meeting Katie at the bottom of the stairs with a fully dressed and clean Jamie in front of her, freshly changed Aurora on her hip.

“You ready son?” he looked at Jamie.

“Just need my jacket.” he nodded.

“It’s on the peg by the door.” Katie said, giving Steve a peck on the lips.

“Love you.” he smiled at her, before he kissed Rori’s head and she grinned at him.

“You too, have a good day.” Katie smiled, as she waved them both out of the door.

The Rogers’ household routine in the mornings always seemed to go the same. Family breakfast, change the kids, wave Steve and Jamie off…but no matter what time they got up in the morning it always seemed to be a rush. And she knew it was going to get even worse when she went back to work in a couple of months. But, as she walked into the kitchen and placed Rori in her bouncer seat with a teething ring, she looked around and realised she wouldn’t have it any other way.

As she tidied and set another pot of coffee going she spotted Steve’s wallet on the side she rolled her eyes and fired him a quick message telling him he had forgotten it.  His response was almost instantaneous and she smiled, arranging to drop it in to him at lunchtime.

Once she was done she settled at the table and logged into her emails, smiling as she had one from Emmy asking her to read over one of her essays before submission. She had an agreement with the teenager, that she would proof read and highlight areas where there were errors or parts which could be improved but would point blank refuse to provide either corrections or detailed suggestions as she was keen that the work was Emmy’s own.  Not that she needed much help, their eldest was a brainbox and currently flying high in her first Semester at Harvard.

And, according to her email, was coming home this weekend for the first time in 4 weeks.

Which in Katie’s opinion called for a family dinner. So she set about organising it, except the group chat kind of went a bit haywire when Emmy flipped out, sending a copy of a photo she’d seen of Steve that had been taken that morning which was trending on twitter.

Katie snorted at Emmy’s disgust but then her attention diverted fully to the photo of Steve. It must have been taken by one of his students earlier that day, and was apparently posted on twitter accompanied with the tag line of “My tutor is a snack”

Katie had to laugh because as much as she wasn’t sure that it was appropriate for students to be taking photos if their tutors on such a way, she couldn’t deny that her husband was a snack. In fact, he was more like a 4 course fucking meal in the photo in question. He was sat in a chair, reading a paper. It was ridiculously innocuous, but there was something about it that set every nerve in Katie’s body on edge. His jaw line, his hands, his wrists…holy hell he was channelling some big Daddy Vibes.

She was squirming all morning after seeing that photo. By the time she met Steve for lunch she was ready to jump his bones but there wasn’t really much opportunity to do that in the public arena of the coffee shop.

“Hey baby doll.” Steve smiled as he spotted Katie pushing Rori’s buggy through the door, standing up to greet her, hand on the glass pane to keep the door open slightly.

“Hi handsome.” she smiled, accepting the kiss he dropped to her cheek before he turned his attention to Rori, picking her up out of the pram. She giggled and waved her arms and legs, grabbing at his beard. He sat back down on the leather sofa, Katie dropping his wallet onto the low table in front of them.

“Thanks.” he said “Luckily I had a twenty in my pocket or I’d have been severely caffeine deprived this morning.”

He looked up as the waiter came over and they placed their orders for a couple of paninis and coffees before Katie sat back, nestling into the space under his arm which was resting across the back of the sofa.

Katie smirked “Had a good morning Daddy?” “Stop it.” he said in a low voice, shooting her a look as he bounced Rori on his knee. She flashed him an innocent one of her own back and he rolled his eyes before she laughed.

“I’m sorry but…it really is a damned good photo…” she fished out her phone “And Emmy was right. Steve Rogers Snack is trending.” Steve groaned. “I know, I’ve been getting screenshots off Sam all morning, well I was until I blocked him as well.”

“As well?” she frowned “You mean you actually did block Bucky?”

“He sent me a clown picture.” Steve shuddered “So yeah. I did. I’ll unblock em later. Maybe” he said, waving his hand.

Katie shook her head, watching him for a moment as he concentrated on Rori who was now chewing at her hand. Reaching into the changing bag, Katie handed over a teething ring which he took and passed over with a smile, Rori making some form of babble back as she shoved it in her mouth eagerly.

“She’s looking more like you each day.” he said, smiling and looking back at Katie.

“You think?” Katie asked, looking at her daughter.

Steve nodded. And he meant it. Whereas Jamie was a carbon copy of him, he felt that Aurora was in turn going to be the double of her mother. Her eyes were almost completely green now, and her hair was dark too. She had her mother’s nose and face shape although Katie insisted the cheekbones were definitely from the Rogers’ side, not that Steve could see it. “She’s beautiful.”

“Charmer.” Katie smiled

“Only for you.” he shot back, winking.

****

Seeing Steve at Lunchtime had done nothing to stop or help with Katie’s spiking libido. It really was ridiculous how much of effect a fucking photograph taken on the sly was having on her, so much so she was ready to jump his bones the moment he walked through the door, but with the two kids being around there wasn’t much chance of that.

“Momma!”

Rori let out a shriek at the sound of her brother’s voice and grinned as he ran into the room.

“Hey baby, did you have a good day?” she asked, looking up from where she was sat on the rug playing with their youngest, and he nodded.

“Yeah but tomorrow is gonna be even better as it’s soccer day!” he grinned. Katie smiled, Jamie hadn’t been at school for very long but he already loved soccer and baseball practice. She ruffled his hair and glanced up at Steve who was leaning in the doorway, still in that fucking jacket…

Steve spotted the look on his wife’s face straight away. He knew it well enough. A thirst, a lust, desire…

“Jamie, why don’t you take your bag upstairs and get changed?” Steve tore his eyes off Katie’s to look at his son.

“Can I play on my computer?” he asked hopefully.

“Just until dinner.” Katie said, looking at him.

He gave a triumphant yell and stood up, bounding out of the room.

“Speaking of dinner I better start it.” Katie said, standing up. “You ok to watch her?”

“Course I am.” Steve chuckled “She’s my daughter.”

“Just checking.” she said, brushing past him in the doorway. She stopped and glanced at him, her hands running up the lapels of his jacket and he gave a smirk.

“You really like this jacket huh?”

“Almost as much as I liked the stealth suit.” she agreed before she looked him up and down, making no attempt to disguise the fact she was as she bit her lip and headed off up the hallway.

Steve waited until she had gone and let out a soft groan. Since her dirty little Daddy comment before he’d had a semi-hard on all fucking day. And now, after that little display he was turned on even more.  Taking a deep breath he knelt down on the floor and tickled Rori’s tummy where she was grabbing at the baby gym she was underneath. He could hear Katie gently humming and after another minute or two he picked Rori up and carried her through to the kitchen, placing her down in the playpen in the corner of the room.

Without a word he crossed over to where Katie was stood reaching into the cupboard for something. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back towards him, his lips gently skating up her neck.

“This what you want?” he asked softly and she gave a grin, tilting her head to look at him.

“What gave you that idea?” she asked.

“Just a hunch…” he muttered, his lips meeting hers in a soft kiss, before his mouth moved to her jawline, one hand straying to the button on her jeans. He popped it easily and worked his hand into the front of her underwear and she gave a soft gasp as his fingers began to play with her sensitive flesh.

“You know…” he continued to speak as her sighs slipped from her mouth “I’ve wanted this all day doll, you’ve had me pining for you…”

“Yeah, well, the feeling’s been mutual…” she said softly, arching her back and taking a sudden breath as two of his fingers slipped insider her. She pushed back slightly, the curve of her ass pressing into his groin and he gave a hiss.

“Fuck baby…” he said through gritted teeth, and he gave a disgruntled wimper as his hand stopped what it had been doing.

“Steve…”

“Such an impatient brat…”he chastised, his mouth on her neck and as she closed her eyes she could hear the tell-tale sound of his belt buckle being undone and the zip on his flies being pulled down. His hands retuned to the front of her jeans undoing them the rest of the way and sliding them down wither panties to her ankles. As he stood up, his hands gently traced the curves of her calves to the outside of her thighs and he grabbed her hips pulling her back towards him before he bent her gently forward, nudging her legs as wide apart as the clothing round her ankle would permit.

He didn’t say another word as he pushed into her in one glide, burying himself to the hilt. Katie let out a groan, her hands slipping forward on the kitchen counter slightly as he bottomed out, before he gently pulled back and did the same again and again, hands gripping at her hips as he continued.  He leaned over to nip at her neck, causing her to whimper, one hand moving from her hip to clasp her jaw, tipping her head round to meet him. His lips crashed onto hers in a hungry, domineering kiss, swallowing her dirty little moan as he picked up the pace, his hips rutting forward faster.

She gave a loud, low purr of delight as he slid his mouth to the pulse point on her neck, before he let out a growl of his own and glanced down at the point where their bodies were joined, the sight of him slamming into her worked him up even more.

His rhythm became faster, and Katie felt her hips banging against the side of the marble surface tops. She knew there would likely be some bruises there tomorrow but at that point in time she really didn’t care. Her hands tightened around the edge of the kitchen counter, her hips bucking back into his, desperate to feel him as much as she could, the feel of him brushing against her spot was finally scratching that itch, satisfying that hunger she’d been feeling all day.

“Fuck you feel so good doll…” he praised, lips warm on the shell of her ear as she arched her back slightly, letting out another keen of desire and she felt the animal in her belly beginning to stir. Steve could read the signs well enough by now to know she was close, and he moved one hand to stroke between her legs whilst he continued his relentless rhythm.

“Stevie…” she stuttered his name, before her voice became nothing but a strangled, hoarse cry and she tightened around him, her legs buckling slightly. He tightened his arm around her belly as he felt the familiar white hot ribbons surge through his body as he let himself go, his rhythm faltering as he emptied himself inside her with a groan.

Katie laughed softly as he moved back, his hands gently gliding up her arms as he kissed the back of her neck softly before he stepped back to allow herself to pull up her clothes as he tucked himself away and fastened his buckle.

“Now I gotta stand here, in damp panties and cook…” she turned and looked at him, sliding her arms round his neck.

“Well, that serves you right for snacking before dinner.” he grinned, as she let out a bark of a laugh before he dropped his head slightly, running his nose up against hers “Let’s hope you haven’t ruined your appetite completely for desert….”

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

I’ll leave what I’m chasing - part 3

I’m not entirely happy with this but I think that’s my own issue with my writing. Next time: Sarah and Aaron try to make it all better.

(AO3 Link)

The bed is empty when Aaron wakes one morning, a few weeks later and for a second he panics that it had all been a dream, when he hears a noise from downstairs.

The past weeks have gone pretty well after Robert’s little breakdown, he and Seb had got to know each other again, having their own little part of the day, just the two of them, when Seb came home from nursery. Things with Ana hadn’t been quite so easy, she’d taken to crying when Robert picked her up and no matter how many times Aaron assured him she was just cranky his words fell on deaf ears. He was so stressed out about doing something wrong still that Aaron was sure she was picking up on it.

Checking the clock he’s shocked to see it’s half past nine, he can’t remember the last time he slept so late and he can’t help wondering how Robert had got on with the morning routine all by himself.

He’s still pulling on his t-shirt when he starts down the stairs, stopping when he hears Robert talking. He can just about see him, flitting about the kitchen like he always did, constantly turning to check on the little girl in the highchair at the table.

“Do you think Daddy will like pancakes, eh? I think he will. Don’t worry, I made one for you because you were such a good girl this morning when we took your brother to nursery. I know I haven’t been here but I promise from now on I’m going to be the best Daddy ever, aside from Daddy Aaron obviously.”

“Mornin’.”

“What are you doing up? We were going to bring you breakfast in bed.” Aaron gasps at Ana making her giggle. “Sit. This will have to do.”

“I reckon I’m in trouble. Morning sweetheart. So to what do I owe this honour?”

“Do I need a reason?” Robert presses a kiss to his lips as he sets a plate in front of him.

“S’pose not. How was Seb?”

“We had a slight crisis when he just had to take his bear to nursery and I couldn’t find it, but he was placated with his giraffe. I thought...well, you’re going back to work for a bit today aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” He mumbles around his pancakes ignoring the wrinkle of Robert’s nose at his manners. “Paperwork. I’ll only be an hour or two. Why?”

“I thought I might take her out for a bit, walk round the village, have lunch in the cafe.” Aaron looks up, startled.

Robert’s been reluctant to spend much time in the village since he came home, only the trips to nursery with Seb the exception. Aaron hasn’t minded, has enjoyed spending all their time together as well as glad he hasn’t had to run into any of his family.

“I can leave the paperwork if…”

“No. I meant just me and her. I can’t stay shut away in here all the time, and I can’t have you there to hold my hand either.”

“Ok. How’s about that sweetheart, a trip out with Daddy. Sound good?”

“Maybe we can go to the pub tonight. I’m sure Mum can babysit.” Aaron almost chokes on his breakfast. He’d hoped to avoid the inevitable conversation for a while longer, but obviously Robert had other ideas.

“Oh yeah. No, wait. She has book club on Thursdays. Another night yeah?” It wasn’t a lie, not really. Sarah did have her book club, but he also knew she’d drop it at a moment’s notice if they needed her.

“Sure.”

Thankfully no more is said about it and he leaves the house as Robert is trying to convince Ana that she doesn’t want to stay in her high chair all day. His mind isn’t on his work though, it’s on Robert. He has to tell him why they’re avoiding the family, everything that went on and he knows it’s going to hurt.

They might not have got off to the best start but he’d really thought when they got back together that his family had accepted Robert, and how much in love they were. The way they’d all helped with the wedding had seemed genuine enough but now he doubted it. The way they had all turned on Robert when he was sentenced had told him different. The worst thing had been his Mum, and Paddy getting into Liv’s ear and ruining the relationship she’d built with Robert over the years.

They haven’t spoken about prison or how Aaron coped either, both of them skirting round the issue every time they came close to mentioning it. That was something else that needed to change.

In the end he gives up and heads home needing time to work out how to broach the subjects Robert might not have wanted to be out and about in the village all that much but that would no doubt change, so they’d inevitably run into one of his family. He didn’t even know if they knew he was out. Liv did, or she’d known it would be soon and that’s when she’d decided to move to Dublin, still angry at Robert, probably fed up of being in the middle of everyone. He’s surprised he hasn’t heard from his Mum but he’s relieved.

“Aaron!” He stops, key in the lock as Sarah’s voice comes from up the drive. “I’ve been calling Robert but he’s not answering.”

“He’s taken Ana out for the day. He might be in the cafe. Here give me those bags. Did you leave any food in David’s?”

“Oh hush. I thought I could cook you and Robert dinner tonight. I can give book club a miss.” Aaron looks down at his feet. “What?”

“He wanted to go out, to the pub, ask you to have the kids. I begged off, telling him you weren’t free.”

“Love, he’s going to run into them sooner or later. Come on, put these bags in the flat for me, then you can make me a cup of tea.”

“How come I’m always making you a cup of tea?”

“Because you once told me mine tasted like the last puddle you stepped in if you remember.”

“I didn’t know you then!” He can remember going bright red when Robert introduced them. He’d taken Aaron to Whitby for the day not long after they’d got together and when they’d gone for a cup of tea in a cafe he hadn’t told him that it was run by his Mum. Aaron hadn’t spoken to him for the rest of the day as punishment and had been embarrassed about it ever since as Sarah could never resist bringing it up.

They’re still laughing as he puts the kettle on, jumping as the front door banged open and they’re greeted with Ana’s screams and Robert cursing under his breath.

“Rob? What’s happened?” Aaron reaches him first, hand on his arm as he releases the baby from her pushchair. Robert doesn’t answer, keeps fiddling with the buggy as if it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. “Robert!”

“Saw your Mum in the cafe.” He’s jiggling Ana in his arms as he speaks, to no avail as she keeps crying and Aaron looks back at Sarah, eyes filled with worry.

“What did she say?”

“Nothing to me. But she had plenty to say to Brenda, whispering away like a pair of witches around a cauldron. They knew I could hear.”

“Here, give her to me.” He holds his arms out for her but Robert takes a step back.

“I can do it!”

“I never said you couldn’t. Just thought you might want to take your coat off.”

“Let me take her, love. I think the two of you need to talk.” He nods, not taking his eyes off Robert. Sarah takes Ana and her bag, pressing a kiss to Robert’s cheek as she goes, and then they’re alone.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?”

“First I’m going to make us both a cup of tea. Then, yeah I’ll tell you.”

He draws out making the drink as long as he can, ignores Robert’s irritated sighs, trying to get his head together, but then he can’t put it off any longer and sits himself down next to him, hands clasped round the mug, the warmth comforting him.

“So Mum didn’t say anything? Nothing at all.”

“No. Just gave me her death stare and went up to the counter. Then Ana started crying and I know what they were thinking, that I can’t cope with her. Maybe they’re right, she cries whenever I pick her up...”

“No they’re not. Besides, my mother is the last person to know what Ana’s like seeing as she’s never even met her.” That has the desired effect of stopping Robert in his tracks.

“You what?”

“I gave her a choice. So now you know why I’ve been putting off going to the pub.”

“But...you can’t just leave it there. This is because of me isn’t it? Not only did I mess up our lives now I’ve messed up you and your Mum too. I should never have come back.” He gets up before Aaron can stop him, storming into the kitchen, clinging to the kitchen worktops, breathing hard. “You’re all better off without me.”

“Oi.” He’s on his feet before he realises, pulling Robert round to face him. “Stop that right now. There’s no time or anywhere where I, or the kids better off without you. Never, you hear me?”

“But Aaron, your Mum…”

“My Mum, and the rest of ‘em made their choice just like I made mine both times I married you. I don’t need them. I do need you.”

“All I do is hurt you.”

“Yeah, you’ve hurt me, same as I’ve hurt you. But we’ve got through that, and we’ll get through this. You’re back...home, that’s all I care about.”

“But...I still don’t understand. How did...what happened?” Aaron sighs, knows Robert won’t let it go until he knows everything. He sits back on the sofa, managing to rearrange them so they were comfortable and Robert was right next to him, showing him how much he loved him as best he could.

“It started not long after you were sent down. Like I said before I might not have liked you cutting off contact, but I got why, but they didn’t. Mum went mental, said if you could do that then you obviously didn’t really care about me or Seb. She was in my ear every time I set foot in the pub. Paddy too, then they pulled Liv into it and I know part of it with her was her family being broken again and she was angry but I’d just had enough of it. They hated that I took no notice.”

“You didn’t ever think they might have a point?”

“No. I could cope with that, nothing I’d not heard before was it. It was…” He looks over at him, eyes shining with hurt and he can’t tell him. “Never mind. It’s done now.”

“Aaron, come on. Tell me. I’m sure your Mum will shout it at me at some point. I’d rather hear it from you.”

“You know we hadn’t told her Natalie was pregnant, we were waiting like you’re s’posed to. Well after the first scan, I wanted to tell you more than anything, that this tiny little speck on a screen was all ours and as I couldn’t.” He grabs Robert’s hand as he moves away slightly, guilt written all over his face. “As I couldn’t, the next best thing, or so I thought, was to share it with my family.”

“And?”

“Mum was fine at first, said all the right things, and I thought maybe the thought of another grandchild would mellow her, bring her round. Then all night, all she did was tell everyone ‘look at my son’s baby’ and how great a Dad I would be.”

“She’s right.”

“But she didn’t mean it like that. I knew what she was doing, blocking you out of Ana’s life. No mention of you. She’s ours, always has been.”

“Ok, but that’s not it, surely?”

“Next day I went round, told her that the baby was ours. She went off on one about you again, how I could do better, how I should get rid of you because you were in prison, that you were violent.”

“She thought I shouldn’t be around them? Aaron I’d never…”

“Don’t even finish that sentence. Don’t even think it. You don’t think I’d hurt them do you?”

“Of course not! Why would I?”

“I’ve been done for GBH, same as you, so by her logic...Anyway, I don’t think she even meant it, she was just saying anything to get me to do what she wanted. It didn’t even seem to register with her that whatever she was saying about you she was also saying about me.” He sniffs, brushes away a tear that has escaped. “I didn’t speak to her for weeks after that, only having Cain on my back made me try again.”

“And it was no better.”

“If anything it was worse. Paddy was there backing her up.”

“Well he’s never been a fan.”

“Idiot.”

“Still, surely you could see why she was so angry. I mean I had cut off her baby boy, leaving him to deal with having a baby.”

“Course, but that was before…listen, he didn’t hear anything, he was playing,” Robert’s eyes darken a little and he wishes he didn’t have to tell him. “I’d left Seb with Lydia, just for an hour. Mum was out so I said he’d be ok going with her to the pub. He was feeling poorly so I kept him off nursery but I’d arranged to meet your Mum at the station and I didn’t want to drag him there. Mum must’ve come home early, and we walked in to see him playing on the floor while the two of them were gossiping about you in front of him.”

“Gossiping how?”

“Katie, Rebecca, Paddy, ripping off Kim, Lee.”

“All my greatest hits. Wonderful.”

“He didn’t hear, I don’t think he would’ve even understood, but that was the last straw for me. If she couldn’t even keep her bile to herself while he was in the room then I didn’t want her anywhere near Ana. So I told her, she either accepted that you were my husband and promised not to speak about you like that anymore, in front of Seb or otherwise, or me and her were done and she wouldn’t get to know her granddaughter. Like I said she made her choice. The others fell into line like good Dingles. Except for Cain and Moira, they’ve been same as always.”

Robert doesn’t say anything, almost like he’s stunned, and Aaron can’t do anything except keep his arm around him.

“Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say, is there? I should’ve known they never really liked me. Wouldn’t have them pegged as good actors though, should give ‘em credit for that.” He jumps to his feet. “I’m going to lie down.”

“Rob…”

“I just want to be on my own Aaron.”

[factual-fantasy]

More asks! Prepare your feels and prepare your laughs!

I sometimes like to imagine myself being put into shows or videogames at a time period before something big happens or a character reveal happens.

I always freak out trying to convince the characters that I am from a world where their world is a complete work of fiction and that they are in great danger or someone is going to show up. Or sometimes I try to convince a character that the choice they are about to make is an awful one to protect them from their written script.

Normally what I do to convince them that I am from another world is I relay the characters entire life story to them. If they ask how I know all that, I say that your world is a game/show in mine and I learned your story though playing your game/watching your show.

Sometimes though I just imagine myself asking my favorite characters a lot of questions that the fandoms don't have confirmation of. 

Its weird, but its a fun past time. I don’t blame you for having these “strange fantasies”, I have ones that are very similar. I mean it is in my name after all. XD

Uhm.. talents?.. hmm.. Well uh... lets see..

Honda does like to paint.. and she is based off a very skilled artist, so maybe she would have a decent shot at painting something?

Bash Buggy probably used to have some talents, but now that he’s in the state he’s in, he probably cant do them anymore.

Hmm... maybe Miata could.. well.. I don’t know if speed is a talent, its just a natural physical capability of hers. But even if that counted, Vega and the Dragsters would smoke her aft on the dragstrip so she wouldn’t even win in that category anyway so... hm..

Volvo probably plays some kind of Cybertronian instrument or something because he’s prim and proper like that. But chances are there ain’t one of those thingi mah bobs on Earth so...

Brown Suburban could.. uh.. maybe Green Truck could.. （￣ε￣;）..Hmm.. Bruh this is hard. I dunno what their talents would be..

You can find my writing/fanfics here! @factuals-fanfics​ :D Go and check out some of the things I have already written! Warning, they are all angsty and none of them are from the Transformer fandom...  yet. I’m still working on that one.

When I read this, I went;

“Bring back-... wh..aaat..? Wait. That’s.. that’s the dude that voiced Optimus Prime right?.. Wait is he.. is he dead?? No, no it cant be! I would’ve already known right?“

*Searches, “is petter cullen dead” into Google*

“T.. 2011?? Wow.. man. Poor Optimus.. 9 years ago.. how did I not know he was dead? Dang.. well that sucks.. man.. how am I going to respond to this ask? Like.. what do I say to that?.. Oh wait- I got an idea.“

Ohh man.. prepare your feels. This is going to hurt. 

So here’s the thing, Bash Buggy used to be a real hugger and didn't mind one bit getting hugs from other people. He gave the best hugs, you could tell how much he cared about you by how he tight hugged you. He was a really warm and nice bot, he really was. And even the non huggers didn’t mind getting one from Bash Buggy. He loved giving hugs as a way to show affection, he never really was too great with his words so it was his best way of communicating with people.

..But now? You’re lucky if you get a pat on the back from him. He’s so horribly embarrassed by his body now, that he doesn’t want to touch anyone and he doesn’t anyone to touch him. He doesn’t go out of his way to hug people anymore because he cant tell by their expression if they want one, and he honestly thinks that no one wants to hug him. He doesn’t believe that anybody would want to get that close to his ugly face.

He cant see his face in mirrors, but by feeling around his face and body, he knows he must be awful to look at. He can feel all those exposed wires, all the dents and scratches.. he knows he’s all kind’s of different colors because of what the kids have said. He may not remember what some colors look like, but he can only assume that they don’t look pretty on him.

So basically, he’s embarrassed and ashamed of his body, and thus, no longer likes hugs. If he were to hug someone or if someone were to hug him, he would just feel gross and guilty. He’d feel like he wiped some of his ugliness onto the person he hugged.

However, there is one person who he will accept hugs from, and that is Brown Suburban. He has known that big lug for the longest time, and Brown Suburban is not deterred in the slightest by his best friends appearance. Cuz daw gonnit that is his best friend! And he’s going to hug Bash Buggy if he dang well feels like it! >:{ ♡♡♡

So.. uh.. long story short, Bash Buggy used to like hugs but doesn't anymore because he thinks he’s ugly. He no longer hugs people and feels uncomfortable getting hugs from others, however Brown Suburban is an exception because he’s his best friend. 

Somewhat close? I’ll give you a hint via gifs!

It actually really is, isn’t it? He’d be able to talk to the Humans no matter what state his voice box is in at the time too!.. However.. it would be hard to read their hands with his janked up vision. If their hands are in front of them, they become invisible. Especially since he uses thermal most of the the time.

Uh.. you okay Anon? This sounds very specific.. you doing alright?. Do you need some help..?

Well uh.. I hope you’re okay.. anyway, that aside uh.. the question, right. 

I uh.. I feel like most of them would kind’a have the same reaction. The person has a headache and is most likely stressed, frustrated and just tired. 

Most of them would probably get them some headache medicine, some food to go with it, maybe a blanket or something and talk it through with them. Let them vent, explain their side of the argument and overall try their best to be supportive.

Some characters like Bash Buggy and Volvo may not know how to react to this particular situation however. And some characters like Jeepy, U.M.Dragster and Ranger may get angry seeing you so upset that they might not be too much of help and might just make both of you feel worse about it. Unintentionally of course.

I’m not so sure about anyone else.. I feel like Suburban would try his best to help you feel better and try to help you cope.. but he himself is struggling with feelings anger and bitterness, so I don’t know how much his advice would stick.

Actually, now that I think about it? Green Truck and Brown Suburban would probably be the best ones to help here. Both of them are very old, and have been there and done that. They have met a lot of people with a lot of different issues, I’m sure they could put their wisdom to use in helping the distressed person see the situation clearly.

Anyway, not sure where this particular question came from.. but I hope you’re doing okay. <:} ♡

Well, obviously I have to look at this as if they were Humans.. let me see what I can come up with.. 

Okay, so.. Assuming that all 16 of them went whole hog with their costumes, and they all mostly picked out different ones.. the might all dress up in these.

Suburban:

Miata:

Escort:

Brown Suburban:

U.M.Dragster and  A.T.Dragster:

Green Truck:

Vega:

Red Van:

White Truck:

Beluga:

Honda:

Ranger:

Volvo:

Jeepy:

Bash Buggy:

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Song For Autumn: Away || Morgan & Deirdre (pt.2)

TIMING: The weekend

PARTIES: @deathduty & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: A day trip with antiquing, horseback riding, and apple picking takes a surprising turn.

CONTAINS: violence, gore, death

The Old Town Living History Museum was two hours’ drive and several towns past White Crest. In addition to touting people in full historical reproduction dress, hand pressed apple cider, and demonstrations on everything from blacksmithing and farming to dance and cooking, it had a number of genuine antiques on display that were a little easier to get their hands on than anything they would find in more of a ‘don’t touch the glass’ museum. Morgan reached over the console and squeezed Deirdre’s hand. “I know we’re here for a very important mission but we don’t get out of town much, and I trust you to tell me if, for any reason, you don’t feel okay while we’re walking around, so I think that we can also enjoy ourselves a little. Or a lot, even. You can tell me all kinds of good, nerdy things about farming, and I read on the website that they have hayrides, and a restaurant that recreates genuine eighteenth century recipes, and there’s even wildflower picking, apple picking, it’s a whole thing, they really care about getting other people engaged with these older and different ways of being. Which is good, since somebody’s wool comb is about to get a new way of being with me.” She kissed Deirdre’s knuckles. “What do you think?”

As it turned out, the type of comb Morgan needed could be found at...Deirdre squinted at the sign; some living history museum thing. To her, it looked exceptionally bizarre. Like a place pulled from time, except for the cars, and the people walking around in modern dress and the, well, everything else. “Humans are so strange…” she mumbled, unbuckling herself and leaning across the console to kiss Morgan, though her eyes remained stuck on the scenery around them. She wasn’t sure why humans saw value in a place like this, gawking at the things that were done in the past. Deirdre couldn’t wait to escape her days of churning butter, and these people seemed enthused to watch some woman in historically accurate attire getting fatigued doing a job that would take a machine minutes to do. Or were they the ones churning the butter? Deirdre stepped out of the car, looking around with mounting confusion. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. Bewildered, she moved to her girlfriend’s side in shock. “Restaurant..?” Deirdre shook her head, finally processing her words in the car. “Fates, no. I’m done with oatmeal. I don’t need any more of it.” Although, she considered, if this was an establishment trying to make money, they probably wouldn’t serve gruel. And so, maybe she was safe from the terrors of it. Deirdre sighed, peeling her gaze away from the museum and on to her girlfriend; who was both a much less confusing sight and a much prettier one. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. This place is just---” Laughter cut Deirdre off, and she snapped around to look at the source: a tour group being enthusiastically led into a barn. “--odd. Very odd.” She wasn’t sure how great wildflower picking--an activity she loved as a child--would be with a group of humans watching her. If she wanted hand-pressed cider, old fashioned farm life and hayrides, she’d just go back to Ireland. Then again--Deirdre turned back to Morgan. Ireland didn’t have Morgan, and her girlfriend was more than enough to enjoy any amount of strange, dated activities. “It’s no grave robbing…” She smiled and leaned in, “...but I will accept any reason to steal you away. It’s nice being out here together, it’s nice being anywhere together.” She kissed her; long and deep and as much as she could before some upbeat actor told them about bonnets.

Deirdre reached for her hand, “Let’s go in then, yeah?” She pushed the doors to the museum open, which summoned a far worse feeling of anachronism inside of Deirdre than the exterior could ever hope to--but unlike how Dolan manor had simply been a hodgepodge of time periods, the museum seemed strangely insistent on looking as dated as it could be, while also---”I see they’ve installed lighting fixtures.” They also had brochures. Deirdre picked one up and occupied herself with flipping through it.  

“Do they not have living history or reenactments or Ren Fairs in Ireland?” Morgan asked. Deirdre was bristling with confusion, as if they’d stepped into a nonsense world instead of an obsessively maintained historical settlement. “It’s a little niche, but I’ve always wanted to go to one. It’s so easy to forget that people back then were also...people. They were dumb and they had lame problems, and theses glorified novelty acts like baking your own bread were commonplace and nuanced. It can be nice, to a point, to see how different things were, and how much the same. At Deirdre’s kiss, Morgan rose onto her tiptoes, all but falling into her girlfriend’s body as they kissed. “I like being with you too,” she whispered, her smile lopsided and drunk with affection.

She didn’t quite have her feet when Deirdre led them inside, but stumbled behind, still dazed and delighted. Beyond the gate, the open-air settlement looked like the set for some BBC Drama. There were houses in white-painted wood and well maintained brick, women in straw hats with heavy baskets, and horses and buggies trotting through the street. There were animals smelling and squawking in pens, clangs of hammers at wood and anvils, the murmur of a happy autumn wind and cut through it all were screaming babies and ringing cell phones and plastic stroller wheels. Steam rose from every other chimney and Morgan was almost glad to not be able to smell it, so she could imagine steam, hickory, or spices coming from those hearths as much as she liked. She peered over the brochure with Deirdre, looking for the map, when a shadow stopped in front of them.

Morgan looked up. “Oh! Good morrow, or I guess, good day? Hi?” The shadow belonged to a woman around their age, who sported a large straw hat that was probably great for working in the sun, but not so much for letting Morgan strategize her movements with Deirdre in peace.

“Good day, and welcome,” the woman said, goodnaturedly. “Prithee, may I help you find your way, travelers?”

Morgan exchanged a look with Deirdre. Wandering around was supposed to be half the fun, but it wouldn’t hurt to know where they needed to end up. “Uh...sure! I was looking, uh, for the sheep? There’s um, demonstrations on preparing wool in the afternoon, right?”

“Aye, indeed! Right this way.”

Morgan lingered, waiting for directions to be given, but it was soon clear that the woman meant for them to follow her. She shrugged at Deirdre, silently asking for her input. It would be rude not to follow, right?

“Well, all you had to say was that you’ve always wanted to come,” Deirdre smiled, laughing her qualms about the place away. If Morgan wanted to be here, that was all she needed to know. If she thought churning butter was interesting, then Deirdre did too---or she didn’t, but she did fully support Morgan’s interest in it. Nothing about the way humans once lived their lives was interesting to her, but everything about Morgan was. Even if her old home had been just this, with an Irish paint over it, she was excited at the prospect of exploring it with Morgan.

The brochure only served to fill her head with more ideas. The wildflower picking did seem nice, now that she was reading about it. And the map showed off labels of various activities that sounded more interesting the longer she started at the text. The blacksmithing demonstration was set for an hour from now, and there was a real sewing circle they could join in to hear the town’s (scripted) gossip and make poorly stitched abominations. There was a carriage ride and-- “Aha, they do have a butter churning demonstration.” Deirdre pointed it out on the brochure, delighted by the correctness of her instincts, though blinded by it just the same. By the time she looked up, Morgan had already finished her conversation with the reenactor and was looking at her. “Oh, uh…” She nodded, and moved back to Morgan’s side, anchoring them close together as they followed behind the woman. The pictures of the orchard on the property was, admittedly, quite gorgeous and the promise of keeping the apples they picked (provided they pay) was tempting. It was where Deirdre wanted to suggest they go first, or after, maybe--or something. It was strange to be off to the wool so soon, it felt more like the last thing they should do. Despite the minor upset to her burgeoning plans, she nudged Morgan excitedly as they moved through the grounds. The order didn’t really matter, even if she would have preferred not to be carrying around an object of ill-gotten origin with them while they looked around. Although, she figured, it probably would make exploring more exciting. “People have died here,” she whispered in Gaelic as she leaned down to press a kiss to Morgan’s temple. She tried to point out a few of the places where she was pulled the strongest, but felt strange under the woman’s backwards glances--as if she was afraid they’d wandered off somewhere. She withdrew her hand and was content enough to press herself into Morgan, and pepper affection where she could as they walked.

“We should get some cider after this,” she suggested, shifting around to try and pull out the brochure she haphazardly stuffed into her pocket when they started moving. “I hear autumn is the season for it, after all.” But before she could pull the glossy paper free and figure out where the cider was, and where they were being led, a thick wooden door slammed open and the woman was gesturing them into an old stone house. Deirdre glanced back at the way they’d come, and realized she had no idea how they were supposed to get back. It seemed to her then, that they’d be stuck with this strangely nosey woman for a while, especially if she insisted on leading them everywhere. “Thank you,” she smiled tightly, stepping inside.

Morgan stayed latched to Deirdre as they walked, reveling in the firm safety of her grasp and the delight of their surroundings bristling around her senses. She eyed Deirdre at her words in Gaelic. “Show me?” she said back. And then in English, “Anything good?” She wasn’t sure how the death pull worked with places, or how differently they felt next to her, but even if Deirdre’s senses sometimes yielded horrible visions, they also lead them to good hiding places and sometimes beautiful discoveries in a buried bone or some abandoned minutiae of a life like an engraved pen or a receipt from a fancy chocolate store. There weren’t any ghosts, at least not that Morgan could see yet, which boded well for the place, overall, though it might have been nice to talk to one that didn’t want to murder her. But there didn't seem to be time to stop, at least not yet. Apparently all the wool-working stuff was way in the back, and Morgan didn’t even have time to admire the (probably?) faux graveyard in front of the church and the social cliques that seemed at least half-genuine. Several of them stopped to wave at them as they passed, and Morgan, confused as she was, waved back awkwardly.

“Ooh, we should!” Morgan replied. “Maybe a quick detour? Or we could go to the orchards for a little bit before then? Pick some apples, find some nice ripe ones to take home for turnovers, cobbler, pie…” She batted her eyes coyly. She could see the heavy tops of the orchard trees from where they stood, and several couples milling out proudly with old-fashioned buckets brimming with spoils. She couldn’t eat any, but it would be fun to gather a stash, and Deirdre almost certainly had a story or a practical secret to go along with it. But before she could say, ‘thanks, we got it from here!’ the barn door was being rolled open, seemingly just for them.

“Oh my stars!” Morgan didn’t have Deirdre’s banshee control, even when she was bracing herself for impact. And despite Deirdre’s observations about the performance town, she hadn’t been prepared to see the headless ghost standing under the lights. She laughed, searching the room for a sign this was just a Halloween decoration, some obscure historic custom she knew nothing about and would be eager to learn, but--nope. She was, without a doubt, the only one who could see the man without turning the color of her eyes. “It’s just so beautiful in here!” She said. “And that lamb is so adorable! I mean, just look at it!” She turned to the woman at the spinning wheel. “What’s the cutie’s name, uh, prithee?”

The lamb was named Jeremy. The spinning woman was Dolly, and the woman who had appointed herself as their guide, still lingering in the doorway with her tight, starched smile, was named Prue. There was a man who strolled in from some unseen door in the back who said he was Ben, and suddenly Morgan had more names than she could keep track of and more of a crowd than she wanted for what was supposed to be some very casual theft. Circling back later was looking like a better idea, but more people were coming in, peeking at what was inside and joining in the fun. Morgan tucked herself into Deirdre and rose on her tiptoes to kiss her cheek, lingering to whisper more Gaelic in her ear, “Ghost. Bad or good sign?”

Despite charisma that rolled naturally off her tongue, and confidence that pulled her motions instinctively, Deirdre was not one for crowds. Or people, most days. And certainly not one to be forced into some demonstration of something she already knew about. But the woman, and the other woman, and also the man, were looking at them expectantly. And now people whispered and came around to watch whatever display was going on. And though it was funny to Deirdre that humans could be so curious they would just turn their attention to whatever strange thing was happening around them, she didn’t want to be stuck in some gawking circle of people. She was not, and never would be, an easily-amused human. Her pride didn’t enjoy standing there, just as much as Jeremy didn’t—being a creature that disliked isolation from his herd. Not that anyone else seemed to notice Jeremy’s stress; his bleating probably sounded cute. “Well…maybe I’ll show you after,” she frowned, “and we can just go to the orchard next…” But she didn’t feel right.

“Ghost?” Deirdre squinted, glancing around the room. She’d been so distracted by the lamb and her own discomfort that she missed the gentle tugging right in front of them. “Good, right?” She turned to Morgan and bore confusion, and then a shrug. “Is it a good ghost?” Their Gaelic conversation drew stares from Prue, who, in fact, hadn’t seemed like she stopped staring at them. Not until Deirdre met her gaze, and she turned away as if suddenly shy. “What’s her problem?” She tried in English, shaking it away. It wasn’t the first time someone had a vested interest in them; scorn or jealousy or confusion or admiration. The situation simply drew Deirdre’s sensitivities, and as much as she hated crowds, she hated being stared at when she wasn’t trying to be—and especially in a crowd. She was equally as perturbed by the child jumping up and down to her right, and the older couple to their left that couldn't decide if they wanted to stay or go someplace else.

“It would depend,” she continued, sighing as she leaned down to press a kiss to Morgan’s cheek. “On what it looks like, right?” If it was a ghost that was going to chat them up the moment it realized Morgan could see and hear it, then it was bad. If it was one dressed as old as the actors were, then it was relic, and probably good. Deirdre paused. “Them.” She blinked. “They. What they look like. Not it.” She shook her head, maybe it wouldn’t have mattered to Morgan, but it felt like one of those steps she needed to take to be better. “But we are already here, we might as well stay.” Despite her discomfort, there was far more she would bear for Morgan’s sake. And, truly, this couldn’t have been any worse for her than any new situation was. If she could learn not to throw anyone out a window at a children’s birthday party, she could handle some demonstration on wool preparation. “Do you see the comb anywhere?” She asked Morgan, looking around for herself. It seemed, however, that the more curious she got, the more Prue’s gaze burned into her. Deirdre turned to her, smiled and winked, but whatever amusement she felt, wasn’t shared. She couldn’t help but feel like she was the one breaching some social ruleset, and being unaccustomed to the atmosphere they were in, Deirdre withered and kept her attention forward.

Morgan squeezed Deirdre’s hand, appreciative and encouraging as she corrected herself about the ghost. “No. Head.” She explained in Gaelic, nodding slowly in the direction of the figure. He had a cloak on, but the cheap Party City kind, not something one of the actors or even the original inhabitants would wear. Definitely a patron of the enthusiastic variety. There were plenty of them milling around, one was even in the crowd with them. The headless ghost raised a finger to where his lips should have been, ssshh. And pointed at Morgan, or somewhere behind her? As he gestured, Morgan could spot the modern finishings on his belt, that included a novelty buckle from a TV show that was only a couple of years old. Morgan didn’t know enough words to explain this, so she settled with, “New.”

The headless ghost, from wherever his head rested, seemed to hear her and pointed more emphatically again at Morgan. Did he not want to be talked about? Did he think literally anyone else here could understand them? Morgan couldn’t tell, so she wrapped Deirdre’s arms around her, playing the affectionate girlfriend (which wasn’t much of a play at all) and snuck a peek at what was behind her while she brushed Deirdre’s hair back in tender strokes. There was nothing, only Prue and the elderly couple, who had decided to go to the smithy after all.

Dolly, the spinning woman, welcomed everyone in and went on with the history of woolwork and how it was done. Everyone was encouraged to come close and Morgan, seeing an opportunity, edged her and Deirdre to the side of the room where most of the tools seemed to be, and a little away from the families and well-dressed nerdy teens. As she shifted, she noticed how tense Deirdre felt, coiled like a spring. “Do you wanna to step out, babe?” She asked gently, her eyes flickering up, reading whatever cues Deirdre’s face was leaving her. But something else caught her attention. Prue, still...staring at them with a lot of...focus, was the only word for it. She didn’t seem disgusted or hateful, not yet anyway. Just...intense, like she was trying to study them. “I’m gonna need a distraction anyway,” Morgan whispered, turning back to watching the wool. Dolly had just taken a rather intimidating looking carder from a sheath at her hip and was showing off how the work was done. It was definitely iron and definitely a lot heavier than Morgan would’ve expected a woman almost her build to be able to work with so much ease. “You, go. We meet in apples?” She whispered, letting her sidelong glance emphasize that she was open to other suggestions for their plan. Dolly held out the carder for the audience to admire. “Mind ye, ‘tis sharp!” She said cheerfully. When she came by them, Morgan only gave a polite nod and a smile, and watched with relief as it went down in front of a table, almost within reach. Maye it would be a good thing that they were getting this over with.

Burning with curiosity, Deirdre let her imagination fill in the visual gaps. A headless ghost wouldn’t talk, which suited her just fine, but a recent headless ghost meant something was wrong--excitingly wrong. She could say she respected the pageantry of murder in a themed museum, even if decapitation was tired. But either way, a murder meant there was something fun for her to find around here. More fun than wool, anyway. The thought pulled her lips into a lopsided smile. “Did he die here?” Deirdre asked, “in this room?” She knew Morgan wouldn’t really be able to tell, not unless the ghost was gesturing secrets to her, but she’d asked for the sake of her own thoughts. With renewed interest, she surveyed the room. Which corner would their ghost have died in? What tool did the killer use? Though under Prue’s gaze, her delight withered quickly. She couldn’t help but feel she must have been doing something wrong, and maybe it was getting excited about murder. She didn’t belong here. Deirdre sighed, watching the carder settle on the table. “Do you want that distraction now?” Distractions she could do, chaos was always hers to incite; she couldn’t do much just standing there, pretending to be as awed and entertained as the people around her. She spared one more glance back at Prue, shooting her another ill-met wink before she turned her attention back to Morgan. “Don’t keep me waiting ‘in apples’ for too long,” she pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

Jeremy was a nervous creature, like most sheep were. A shrill, chilling, inhuman shriek was enough to set his fear ablaze. And it was exactly the sound Deirdre let slip from her lips as she jumped back, spooked by an invisible threat. “Bee!” She offered her reason, not that it mattered much under Jeremy’s panicked bleating. He kicked, desperate for escape from the room as Deirdre stumbled back, bumping the table as she tried to find her own. She knocked a number of tools to the ground as she scrambled to leave, trying to yell something about a bee allergy over Jeremy’s cries. But the moment she was sure everyone’s attention was on the lamb, her acting fell apart and she strode out of the room with a grin. She would’ve liked to stick a knife between Prue’s eyes before she left, but such desires she could quell in the name of helping Morgan and getting a few apples out of it. Pulling the brochure out of her pocket, she folded the flimsy paper back until the part of the map that outlined the path from where they were to the orchard was the only visible face. She left the map under her feet, in one way to help guide Morgan in case she’d get lost, in another to make her feel better about leaving her girlfriend behind--even if this was her plan. With a skip, and delight in each long stride, she left for ‘apples’.

Morgan gave Deirdre one more squeeze, affirming yes, do it now, and soaking up a little more affection before they parted. It would only be a few minutes, with any luck, but chaos was a funny thing. Deirdre’s shriek rattled more than just the lamb. Two people near them ducked, covering their ears, a toddler started to wail, and that was before Deirdre knocked into as much furniture as possible. “Oh, honey! Be careful!” Morgan stumbled away from her and towards the table. Everyone was rushing to wrangle Jeremy, who was already kicking a few shins and scaring the rest of the children.

“Mommy, make him stop crying!”

“Maybe we should go…”

“Did she say a BEE?”

Morgan picked up the carding comb from the table and dropped it into her bag with ease. This far in the shadows, no one could possibly be paying attention. When she was done, she went back to clutching her chest and panting, as if the whole thing had taken the wind out of her with fright. “Oh, honey, don’t go,” she called lamely. Then, laughing awkwardly to everyone else, “...I think I’m just gonna--” and gestured that she would show herself out. The other visitors in the room seemed to agree and started milling out, ready to move on to something less stressful. Morgan tried to push herself into the middle of the pack, no longer anyone special, just another face to be forgotten before the next group found their way in.

“You, there!”

Definitely not a thief.

“Prithee, did you get the carder, Ben?”

Definitely not the kind of woman who would take an antique iron wool comb and just dump it in her conveniently sized bag. Morgan would never. Except Morgan had, and despite her best efforts, Morgan found herself cut off at the door by the spinning woman, Dolly. “Not so fast,” she said. “I would like a word, Miss.”

Morgan tried to edge around her. “I’m really sorry about my girlfriend. We came prepared, obviously, but she had a really horrible allergic reaction as a kid and they just make her really afraid still. I hope Jeremy feels better--” But Dolly was clutching her wrist, too tight for Morgan to slip free.

“T’isn’t about the bee that I should like to speak on,” Dolly said, her tone still matter of fact.

“Let go of me. Now.” Morgan replied, twisting her arm away. But Dolly’s grip was strong, and Morgan struggled to put even a few inches of distance between them.

“I would very much like to, Miss,” Dolly said, throwing her back into the barn with a strength a woman her size should in no way have. “But I’d been holding your hand a lot longer than you realized.” She descended on her, elbowing her in the stomach and pinning her against the wall. A knife came out of her belt and slashed through her sleeve. No blood. She had to twist Morgan’s flesh to make dark blood ooze out of the wound. “I’m afraid we don’t welcome zombies in these parts.”

It was with great impatience that Deirdre remembered how dull everything was without Morgan. Even the sweet apples she plucked—stole—after sneaking into the orchard had suddenly turned sour. The bright, green and carefully maintained grass had become a murky swamp in her eyes. And while she knew she was being entirely too melodramatic, she also didn’t care. Her life was simply better for Morgan’s being in it, and activities she loathed always became enjoyable with her presence. Even as she tried to wait around like a sensible person should, sat against one of the trees, eating her terrible apple, she missed her girlfriend. As the time between their departure grew, Deirdre missed her more and more until the feeling was unbearable. She stood and threw her apple aside, marching back the same way she snuck in; around some old house and over a bit of flimsy fencing. But where she should have come round the corner to face the rest of the museum, she found Prue smiling at her. Deirdre stepped to the side, and Prue followed, blocking her path. She stepped to the other side, and Prue followed again. The game grew tiresome quickly. “Fates, bother someone else, prune.” She sighed and shoved the woman out of her way, stepping on to the bright pathway leading into the Orchard. From there, she remembered it was a series of rights, and then a straight walk back to the wool demonstration, where Morgan must have gotten held up. Where she— Prue stepped out in front of Deirdre again, thin knives pulled for her dress, clutched tightly between her fingers. She stepped forward, forcing Deirdre back into the darkness between houses. It occurred to her then, after her impatience settled, that something was wrong. It wasn’t the knives that bothered her, she didn’t care that Prue had begun pressing one of the blades to her abdomen; it was the fact that Prue was meant to be at the wool demonstration. Yet, she was here. Which either meant she’d snuck out, or the demonstration was over with. And if the demonstration was over with…. “Where’s my girlfriend?” Deirdre hissed, earning her a sharper press of Prue’s knife.

“Prithee,” Prue chirped, a facsimile of the polite woman who’d lead them around in the first place. She dug her knife in further, not wanting to puncture skin just yet, but adamant that Deirdre fall back into the shadows. Deirdre guessed that she didn’t much enjoy public scenes, and there was something funny about a woman who had just enough sense left not to murder in front of children. It was that way that Prue and Deirdre were very different. “Prithee,” she tried again, “wouldst th—“

“Oh, shut up.” Deirdre growled, gripping the woman by the shoulders and shoving her aside and out of the way. The action jerked Prue’s knife forward, and as it stuck out of Deirdre’s abdomen, the banshee knew exactly what the searing pain she was feeling meant. She gasped, steeling herself as she stumbled forward onto the path. Blood spilled between her fingers, where she held the wound, her plum dress quickly claimed by the color. She pulled the blade out in her quivering hand. The small knife was entirely metal, where a handle would’ve been, the metal was braided and pulled back to the blade to make a loop, just the right size for Prue’s delicate fingers. Every inch of it burned Deirdre. She dropped the knife and staggered into the crowd, clutching her stomach as if she’d eaten something rotten. Her one safety was the knowledge Prue wouldn’t dare chase her here, but she couldn’t do much for the trail of blood she was dropping. At first, she tried to kick dirt over it, but quickly realized the action was both time consuming, and terrible for her already challenged balance. “Morgan!” She yelled, the crowd wincing away from her. “Morgan!” There was no way, with how her voice travelled, that Morgan wouldn’t be able to hear her. But just hearing her might not have been enough. Deirdre’s body lurched, and she fell against the side of some building. She raised her hand and pushed herself steady, leaving her blood stained against the grey stone. It didn’t matter to her how much her body protested, how badly she was bleeding or what manner of hunter was chasing her, she would find Morgan, and she would make sure her love was safe. “Morgan!” She called again, resuming her trek back, teetering from one side to the other.

The first rule of fighting was don’t die. The second rule was don’t get knocked on your ass. Morgan had already failed the first nearly six months ago, and as Dolly struck her again, knocking over her bag, she nearly failed the second. Morgan’s head cracked against the barn wall. This was bad. If Dolly was a slayer, then what was everyone else? What about that woman who’d been staring at them? Had Deirdre even made it to the orchard? A blade bit through Morgan’s joints. She sank to her knees, mind scrambling for something to fight back with. She’d already broken the spinning wheel and the posts on the enclosure. They hadn’t done anything to stop the woman, who had dodged every attempt she didn’t simply shrug off. Morgan was running out of options.

Then she heard her name, carried on the wind in its frightening, inhuman timbre. “Deirdre!” Morgan cried back, loud as she could. “In here!” But Deirdre only called her name again, louder.

Behind her, Dolly cringed at the harshness of the sound, dropping her blade. This was Morgan’s chance. She picked up the iron comb from the ground and brandished it like a bat. Dolly saw it all coming, picking up her blade and dodging, feinting her way until she had the chance to nearly sever Morgan’s right arm. Morgan let her. The pain bit almost sweetly through her body and it brought Morgan close enough to do what she wanted.

“I am not your fucking voodoo doll!” Morgan screamed. She swung the comb into the woman, eyes squeezed shut as the iron spikes made contact with her face. Blood flooded Dolly’s white cap and collar. Morgan struck her again, steeling herself against the soft, wet sound of her skull caving in. Dolly kicked Morgan away, screaming, and Morgan took her chance. She scooped up her bag and ran, still holding the bloody comb as she entered the street. “Deirdre!” She called. They had to get out of here. They couldn’t even risk holding still, or hiding, not with hunters around. “Deirdre—!”

She saw her slumped against one of the buildings, clutching her stomach, a dark stain spreading down the front of her dress. For a moment, Morgan considered working her way through every actor in period dress, swinging the comb in her hand until all of them were puddles on the ground. She could do it. If it meant paying back whoever had wounded her, it would be worth it. And if they didn’t make it out of this alive, she just might. But humans were backing away, getting wise to the lack of performance in this theater, and Ben was coming around the side of the barn with a sharp looking scythe in his hands. No time, lucky for them. Morgan ran to her, her right arm still dangling at her side and her jacket growing splotched and heavy with dead blood.

“S-some date, huh?” She said. There was no keeping the fear out of her voice, or the frustration at not having enough arms to hold her safely. Morgan wheezed through her teeth, looking furtively around them. “We need to get out of here,” The only question was how.

To hold Morgan in her arms again was the greatest relief. Deirdre brought her in close, holding her as tight as she could despite her body’s protest. “Hey there,” she cooed, “you know, stabbing aside, I’ve had a wonderful time.” She smiled, reaching for Morgan’s hand, trying to ease her out of the tight grip she’d taken around the bloody carder. Gently, she took the now-weapon from her hand and slipped it inside Morgan’s bag. “It’s okay,” she murmured, pressing her lips against her cheek. The world had begun to blur and spin seconds ago, and she knew that she probably looked as terrible as she felt. Of course, where appearances were concerned, Morgan looked like she was nearly missing an arm. Deirdre peeled the fabric of her jacket back and inspected the wound. “Hold your arm up, my love. It’ll heal faster that way,” she pressed another kiss to Morgan, leading her hand to do as she was asking. Her own wound didn’t look nearly as bad as a severed arm, but iron had a funny way of ruining a fae’s health. She felt feverish, and like her soul was slipping out with each gush of blood. She watched Ben approach them with his scythe, clearly intending to do more than mow grass with it, and spared her energy to look at their surroundings. Buildings had swirled into incomprehensible blobs, the sun was both too bright and impossibly dim, and Deirdre had no hope of telling the retreating humans apart from the spots in her vision. But off to the side, she knew without a doubt there was a horse—a large, black horse with a comically tiny cart attached to its harness. The creature was calm, if not a little bored pawing at the dirt; she didn’t know by which miracle the horse hadn’t startled from her yelling, but she imagined some combination of hearing impairment and its blinders had saved it. She glanced over Morgan and back at Ben, who appeared torn between helping Dolly and pursuing them, taking slow steps as he must have been thinking it over. She’d make the choice easier for him.

“My love,” Deirdre kissed Morgan again, using her as a crutch when they parted to help her hobble towards Ben. “I need you to go cut the harness off that horse, okay? Keep the reins and the blinder, just cut everything that’s leaving it attached to that cart.” Shakily, she pulled a knife from her jacket and offered it. “Approach it slowly. I’m going to get a saddle from the barn and then I’ll join you, okay? Okay.” She left Morgan reluctantly, though her body was relieved to have both of its hands to press against her wound again. She looked at Ben, and figured he must have had something valiant to say, he certainly looked like he did, but she couldn’t much hear him over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. Instead, she steeled herself and shrieked, watching his body crumple and his grip on the scythe slacked. Under any other circumstance, she would have delighted in taking her time, but eager to get back to her girlfriend, she kept screaming and stumbling forward until his life spurted out of him and he fell. She did the same to any unfortunate actor that crossed her. She did the same for Dolly, who had been trying to squirm away. She stopped only when her body lurched again, and the wound claimed the last of her energy. She heaved, taking the saddle she’d been eyeing off its rack and then...dropping it. Her body stiffened. Fire and agony grew around her neck, her back pressing against the soft body of Prue. She reached up to grab the iron wire she was being choked with, burning her fingers as she tried to find relief. But there was none, and the wire tightened. It was only by the memory of torture she had endured, and the thought of Morgan, that she was able to fall forward and swing her elbow into Prue’s nose. She stumbled free and snapped around, hand clasped over her throat as she willed her vision to steady. By the time the barn was no longer a pit of fuzzy dark brown shapes, Prue was gone. Deirdre groaned and plucked the saddle off the floor, limping her way to Morgan and the horse.

Prue hadn’t done anything that would last, but she had done just enough to make talking a chore, and between her stomach and her neck, screaming was a task Deirdre knew she wouldn’t wake from. She set about fastening the saddle, climbing on first and offering her hand to Morgan. “Sit in front, I need you to hold steady on the horse.” The saddle was for Morgan, after all, keeping balance on a galloping horse was hard enough for the experienced. “It’ll be okay,” she croaked. She felt like she was dying, which wasn’t true yet, but she felt like it anyway. “We’re not dying here. We’ll just ride out. It’ll be fine.” Through blurred vision, she could see actors grabbing pitchforks and shovels, calculating their plans. She swallowed, hissing in pain. “W-when you’re ready to go, j-just squeeze your legs on the horse and it’ll move. And then just lift up off the horse and squeeze again and it’ll go into a…” Her sentence trailed away, her body slumped, and the rest of it would just have to be Morgan.    

Morgan was starting to suspect that nothing good ever happened when she and Deirdre split up. All of their two-second breakups had been agony, and when Constance had attacked the house, Deirdre had been hurt, and in the minutes it had taken Morgan to get the old  deaf horse going, Deirdre was stumbling out with burns on her neck and hands. “What--what happened, what are you doing? Stop, you’re hurt! Your fingers!” She tugged on Deirdre to stop messing with the saddle, to let her at least try to climb on first, but she was afraid to hurt her even more. The front of her dress was soaked through, and the more she scanned her for iron burns, the more she found. Morgan whimpered, swallowing down tears. They didn’t have time for comfort, they needed to make it out of this alive. “I fucking hate this,” she whispered. She picked up Ben’s scythe from the ground and took Deirdre’s hand, placing herself behind her girlfriend on the saddle. “Like I would ever let you be a meat shield for hunters,” she hissed. She pressed a kiss to Deirdre’s cheek and took up the reins, wriggling in the saddle to get comfortable as best as she could. Karen’s ninth birthday party had been horseback riding, and then Michelle had copied her with the same idea when she turned ten. Morgan’s legs had been even shorter, her anxiety even more out of control, so this should be a breeze, right? Her girlfriend was bleeding out, she had a scythe in one hand, a barely reattached arm, and they were riding for their lives, but not so different from little kid’s birthday parties!

The hunters seemed to be making up their minds and taking a slow approach, fanning out and readying weapons tucked into their belts and slung on their backs. No time to get to picky about this or wait for certainty to smack her on the head. People did this in the movies all the time, and so could she.

“Just hang on, babe, okay? I’m gonna take care of us, but I need you to hang on.” She squeezed Horsey just as Deirdre told her to, and off they galloped.

Going back the way they came would put them into contact with too many opportunities to be struck or blocked off, so Morgan made for the orchards. The other patrons made way for them. Cell reception was so bad here, there wasn’t anyone to call, which should have been a big fucking clue, in retrospect. “Are you still with me, babe?” She whispered. “You said I get a head’s up when you’re gonna die, so I’m thinking, this is just gonna be a weird and wacky story for us to tell our friends in a couple of days. What about you, huh?” She tried to put pressure on Deirdre’s wound, but her hands were too full. But they were close. Maybe if she could get Horsey to ride faster, she could lose them in the trees or-- “Fuck!” Or they could shoot her in the back with arrows. They could do that too. Morgan grimaced and squeezed Horsey with all her strength, flicked the reins for all the good it would do them, and continued--right into the path of Prue.

Morgan would have been happy to trample her down, but Horsey only screamed, rearing up and almost knocking them over. Another arrow into her back. So this was the plan. Morgan shoulted wordlessly and held tight to the reins, steering Horsey around, but he would only pace and circle and pant, growing more and more anxious.

“Thou must not leave this place, I fear,” Prue said smugly.

“Shut up.” Morgan swung her scythe, just barely missing the mark.

Prue stepped closer, daring her to try. “Thou art a devil against nature and divinity, and thou must--”

Morgan swung again. And this time, she did not miss. Or she would have if Prue hadn’t given up and thrown herself to the ground. Fine.

An arrow landed by Horsey’s feet, frightening him to life again. They were flying into the trees, trampling over the neat rows of apples and berries. Arrows whistled like rain around them and horse hooves followed like thunder. It was all Morgan could do to hang on to Deirdre and Horsey at once. She did her best to steer them towards the parking lot without being and easy target, but Horsey was running on his own fear, darting and panting with nothing but burning intuition to guide him. Morgan put her hand out to the trees and caught the first apple that sank into her palm, hurling in backwards blindly. Then another.

The trees thinned and Morgan had begun to hope, when Prue stepped into view once more, cutting into one of Morgan’s thrown apples with her bloody iron knife.

“You evil bitch,” Morgan whispered.

She didn’t put out the scythe until she was right on her. The blade came down, cleaving a deep gash that went from her face to her neck. Prue staggered behind them, moaning a deep, rattling cry as she flailed for a way to staunch the wound. But her blood was spraying over the honey yellow and green tints to the apples and rivering down her dress.spilled down her dress and rained onto the grass. At this point, Horsey gave up and bucked hard enough that Morgan went flying, taking Deirdre down with her. She landed on her back, knocking into an apple tree hard enough to crack the trunk. She didn’t remember dropping her scythe, but it had to be, well...somewhere. “Hey,” she whispered, wincing as her spine worked slowly to right itself. “You still with me? Babe…?”

Deirdre didn’t have an awareness of much anymore. From beyond the great expanse of fuzz and fatigue, she could hear Morgan’s voice, and something that sounded like a storm. But she was on the world’s bumpiest bed, and sleep was hard to find between each jump and turn. Vaguely, she remembered something about a horse, but memories bleed into each other, and the only horses she knew were the pale kind that marked generations on her family’s farm. All of them were deaf. Her bed jerked again, and she jumped against her upright pillow that reeked of blood and Morgan. Her eyes fluttered open to find Morgan’s arm dangling as if tethered by only a singular thread. “Your...arm…” she croaked. That seemed serious. That seemed like something they needed to fix now. And Deirdre ached to; she wanted to rub away all the black blood and pain and fix it all. She tried to reach up, but her arm refused. When she tried again, the world returned to its darkness. There, the bed continued to jostle, visions of her farm continued to plague her, drawing fever to her. Her sense of the world dimmed until all she knew was Morgan, and the strage, terrible, jumpy bed she was in. “I’m so tired…” she tried to explain, then tried the next thought that occurred to her. “I love you,” she said, “I love you so much. Everything is better with you, I’m better with you. And I’m tired, Morgan. I’m so, so tired.” And this bed was terrible. Thankfully, she found her new bed to be better. After, of course, the strange bit where she felt like she was flying, and then the other bit where it was like her body was cracking. But once both sensations settled, she welcomed the new, soft, steady bed.

Face in the dirt, Deirdre didn’t respond to Morgan because she didn’t hear her. She was still, finally, and that was all she’d wanted. In her head, there were horses and meadows and Morgan, her love, and apples and-- Prue. Deirdre stirred. She pressed her palms to the mud, trying to lift herself only to slip and welcome the ground again. “Where--” She tried to speak, but her throat was tight, and her voice sounded wrong even to her own confused ears. She just needed a moment, and then she’d be fine. Just one moment without the jostling bed, or Prue trying to kill them. Just a moment with her head down in the dirt, trying to regain herself. That was it. She was so tired it felt like she was dying. She wasn’t. But it felt like she was. Unfortunately, communicating that was a harder task between not knowing where the bottom half of her body was and the ghost of iron wire burning around her neck. “Alive.” She groaned, lifting a hand to point at Prue, who was swaying like wheat in the wind. Like there was music. Deirdre could have sworn she heard it too. “Sleep.” She pointed at herself. “Dead.” Her hand fell. “Love you.” Just a moment.  

Morgan crawled up to her knees. The fall had knocked the arrows further into her back, and she was finding it difficult to breathe. She coughed, wiping away the dark stain from her lips. She felt for the knife Deirdre had given her, lodged at least part of the way through her thigh. Morgan pulled it out and approached Deirdre, feeling along her body for broken bones. “This isn’t how we die, babe,” she whispered. “That would be such a shitty story, okay? But maybe--” She reached behind her and pulled an arrow from her shoulder, then another from the small of her back. The worst ones would wait, but maybe her healing could get more of a move on already. “Maybe we can think about it when we get back to the car.”

But Prue was in fact, inexplicably, alive. One bright eye stared out from the red ruin of her face, and she still had that iron little knife. Step by staggering step she walked towards them, blade raised. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” She hurled the overripe apples on the ground her way, which burst and splattered her body with rot. Prue may as well have not felt them at all for how much she flinched. Morgan tucked her half severed arm closer to her shoulder. It didn’t feel as loose anymore, but if she could swing with more than one hand…

“Thou. Art. A Devil,” Prue hissed, gritting her blood stained teeth with every word.

“Careful,” she called. “I bite.” The next apple burst on her head, which did give Prue a second of pause. She had to wipe the browning meat of the apple from her eyes in order to keep going, which bought Morgan a little more time to stay close to the ground while her body connected her joints.

The trees were quiet. It was only them here, now. The others were reassuring the humans, or tending to their dead, or trusted this monster of a woman to finish them off. Considering how close she was getting to them, with how much blood was coming down her body, it was no wonder. Morgan crawled forwards, still coughing as her body struggled to fix itself. When Prue was right on her, arm poised to stab, Morgan reached out with both hands and pulled her leg out from under her. Prue didn’t hit her head, but her kicks fell on numb, zombie limbs. Morgan pinned them down with all her strength and let her flail and slash at her until she felt the right kind of relief in her arm that meant it was whole again. The next time her blade came, Morgan snapped her wrist. She caught the next arm and brought it to her lips, going so far as to pinch the soft flesh of her arm between her teeth. For the first time, Prue screamed with fear.

“You’re right,” she rasped,  “That is way too good for you.” In went the knife, straight into her heart until Morgan press it no further.

Morgan didn’t stop to see the light come out of her eyes. She picked herself up and stumbled back toward Deirdre and their fallen things. Picking everything up upset all the arrow-tips still in her body, but there was no stopping now. People would hear Prue’s screams, maybe even recognize them. If they hadn’t, they would know something was wrong when she didn’t come back, eventually. Morgan had to get them away from this place before all that came crashing down. She clutched Deirdre tight to her chest and started walking.