#I don’t want to trash other people’s ships

[duckpatrolsquad]

I’m 100% convinced that Yusuke/Kuwabara would’ve been the biggest YYH ship if Togashi had just made Kuwabara a pretty boy

[s1utlvr]

I know places ↟

Clarisse La rue X reader

a/n: I DONT KNOW WHAT IM DOING?? But I’m yeah here’s this heavily Taylor swift inspired some heated making out but nothing more cliffhanger enjoy or don’t idk man

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Dating Clarisse La rue was a bad idea.

It’s all anyone could tell you the moment you fell for her, even Clarisse herself tried to talk you out dating her.

But there was nothing she could do or say that could make you not want her.

The way her lips felt against yours, the way her hands brushed against your body, the way she made you felt when it was just you and her, no amount of rumors could change the way you felt about her.

“Loose lips sink ships all the damn time, but not this time.”

Tonight was a night like any other, you were at the bonfire grabbing a drink your girlfriends hands on your waistline and like always the vultures that were your fellow campers had some things to say.

They’d never say anything not to your faces atleast everyone was too scared of Clarisse, but the way they stared made it seem like you two were monsters begging to be hunted. You tried not to care but that part just always seemed to infuriate you.

“Wandering eyes?” Your girlfriend whispered into your ear noticing your expression.

You nodded rolling your eyes and then moving your eyes back onto your girlfriend.

“Hey you wanna go somewhere?” You asked sipping at your drink trying to get rid of the feeling that you were prey to your peers.

“Is it that bad?” She asked her hand moving and making its way to cup your cheek.

“No it’s just-gods it pisses me off like it’s been months and this shit is still happening” you said a bit of frustration in your voice. Clarisse hated seeing you like this but she had to admit, you’re hot when you’re angry.

“Where’d you have in mind?”

“I know places”

“After you then” Clarrise smirked chucking your cup into the trash before following closely behind you into the forest.

You had discovered this spot your first day at camp while trying to find your way around for the first time. What you thought was a shortcut turned out to be a path straight to a creek deep into the forest, you were lost for two hours until your protector found you. The creek was calming, secluded, even when your were lost. And since that day had been your spot. Once you and clarisse got together you were more than glad to share it with her. Sure you had plenty of spots but this was your favorite, you knew no one could ever get to you here.

You sat down against a rock by the water clarisse following next to you as you watched the moonlights reflection on the water.

“I thought people would’ve moved on by now” you said as you shifted to look at your girlfriend resting your head on her shoulder.

“I wouldn’t stop talking about you either” She teased.

“You know what I mean” you scoffed. “Why do people have to care so much about who I date?”

“Well it’s hard not to be obsessed with you” Clarisse said pulling you closer so you were on top of her.

“You’re impossible” you chuckled as you rolled your eyes at her, her hands resting comfortably on your waist.

“Ouch?” She said as she dramatically clutched her heart. “You sound just like them”

“Well most of the rumors are true aren’t they?” You laughed as she pulled you in the feeling of your lips pressed together sending electricity through your body before she pulled away, her breath heavy as she spoke.

“Please you know wouldn’t trade this for the world, it’s always gonna be me.”

It was true. You’d hide from the world for the rest of your life if you could feel like this forever.

Her hand moved up to your waist as she pulled you back in continuing to kiss you. You could tell she was desperate, needy, she wanted to shut everyone out just as much as you did.

It was cause of this that it came as a surprise when she pulled away abruptly.

“Did you hear that?” She whispered panically

“Hear what-?”

The sound of leaves crunching filled the forest.

Shit.shit shit shit. was all could think as you tried to get off of her. Was it an animal? Was it a monster? Was it a person? How long had it been there?

The sound of leaves got closer.

“Come on” she whispered looking behind the rock you two were sitting against.

“Where?” You asked frantically.

“Just grab my hand and don’t ever drop it.”

[vemuabhi]

I want a Boyfriend

Its march 2nd aka Sanji’s birthday everyone! (IST)

Happy Birthday Mr. Prince. My Crush of all time, My boyfriend in my dreams.

Hey Peeps! Please read the below story of mine and comment/reblog your opinions. I hope you like it!

Modern Universe

Pairing : Sanji X Reader

Warnings : Noting but fluff! Happy ending!

Word Count : 1.2K

I was listening to Selena Gomez - Boyfriend

Summary - Zoro plays Wingman!!

copyright © vemuabhi Though Likes are cute and all, Please Reblog me if you like my writings.

“Why can’t I find a date?”, you wined for the 5th time making a certain green head to get triggered.

“Oh Shut up Shut up Shut up!”, he leaned back on his chair hands still lingering on the laptop before him.

“What can I do? I am getting desperate. Especially after-”

“The Last situationship, you said it multiple times. I feel like I’m about to explode if you keep on doing this”, he huffed as you continued to work on your laptop.

Zoro, your colleague who became your best friend way too quickly. Though he seemed aloof and cold, he was a sweetheart who cares deeply and that was one of the reasons why you got attached to him. In the beginning he tried to make you talk with some of the guys in the office in a friendly way but you didn’t feel interested. Sure you were disparate but not ready to make mistakes again like you did in your previous relation and situation ships.

Leading on and giving false hope wasn’t how you dealt. Even if it was harsh, you preferred it and would prefer it if some thing of that sort happened to you.

“How many times have I introduced you to those other guys. And did you even try?”, he side eyed you then resumed to work. The way even after trying to make you meet new people, you didn’t even try but still complained made him irritated.

“Zoro, I’m sorry about that but… I didn’t find a connection with them, so I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time”.

Looking at your sad but sincere eyes he sighed and shook his head. “Whatever. Don’t be sad now”.

You gained back your smile at the grumpy man because he was so sweet to you. Though he was always mad he was a kind soul. Not all can know about that until they get to know him.

“I need a boyfrie-”

“GOD!”, he rolled his eyes at you as you chuckled, being happy that you managed to piss him off.

****

That day at lunch, Zoro was a bit late to join you because he was on a call. He furrowed his brows at you as you gave him a smirk.

“What?”

“Seems like you have a secret girl you’ve been talking to huh~~ What’s her name?”

“What girlf-… Ah… its not a girl, I was talking to a guy”

“That’s alright, I don’t judge. Who’s that guy?”

“HEY!! NO!! Shut it and eat. Its my roommate. He was telling me to take out the trash”

“Oh… I thought atleast my friend was in a relationship”.

“Like hell I don’t need any rig- Wait… look at this picture”, Zoro stopped eating and showed you a DP of a guy in his personal chat. That was a side profile of a man with cigarette between his lips. He looked pretty good.

“Yeah he looks nice, what about it?”

“Now eat this”, he picked up his spoon and handed it to you. You ate it and the flavours of the food felt divine on your tongue. Your mind tried to keep you sane but your heart had other plans and you grabbed his food and started to eat it making him to hit you, then you stopped.

“Sorry, animal instincts”, you gulped as you returned to your plate. It was good but Zoro’s food was on another level.

“Yeah, people who eat my food turn into animals. I noticed that”

“Never knew you could cook this well, Aish… Zoro I have a question”

“Yeah?”

“Zoro lets go out”, your words made the latter to almost choke on his food.

“Wait wait. Nothing romantic. Just that… you make me food and I sit pretty”

“Jerk… you want food. We don’t have to be in a relationship for that. And I didn’t make it”. You got curious about this. It seemed that zoro’s roommate was the one who made this. His name was Sanji and he was a chef.

“I was thinking of introducing him to you, that’s why I called him earlier”, Zoro averted his gaze from you, “But if you only want too of course. I like how you don’t lead anyone on. If it is okay, then go ahead with him”. A small chuckle left your lips and you nodded in agreement.

You got Sanjis number and as soon as you messaged him hi, you got a reply. You mentioned to him that you were still in office and you both agreed to call after your logout.

Your mind was going apeshit, what waws going on?!! You were getting nervous to talk to the handsome man that Zoro introduced you to. Logout time seemed longer than usual because you were waiting for it.

“Idiot, work first. Then you’ll be able to lose track of time”, motivational words from zoro helped a lot and soon, it was time to call Sanji.

You stood at the entrance of the company and fiddled with your phone. Hands were getting clammy with the stress. Looking at your misery, Zoro sighed and snatched your phone hitting the call option in the process.

“Hello”

A soft husky voice made you to take a deep breath and respond. The first few minutes of the call were a bit slow and awkward but by the time you reached home, you were both laughing and having a great time. Ending the call seemed to be hurting the both of you, which never happened in your past. No matter how excited you were, the other person was never happy with you being yourself. Clingy, immature, talkative and loud, were the words that stuck with you from your past. Though you tried to make sure to not show those traits, you wanted to hide, couldn’t while you spoke with Sanji. Wonder how this happened. Maybe because Sanji was a type to make anyone feel comfortable around him.

Two weeks have passed and the conversations kept getting better and better. You both wanted to meet each other.

“I want to see you”, words slipped out of your mouth making Sanji to become silent.

“I’ll meet you soon”, he said as a smile formed on his lips.

The next day, when you and Zoro got out of the office, you noticed that someone was standing beside Zoro’s bike. You looked at the slender form with a cigarette and your heart skipped a beat. You could hear your heart beating faster.

“Oye Shitty Cook! Why are you here?!!”, Zoro went towards Sanji.

“Marimo!! Don’t you-”, the blond’s words stopped as he noticed you. He walked and stood right infront of you. You both talked on Video calls but, seeing him in person made a shit ton of difference. You could notice how tall he was, his expressions, his red cheeks and most importantly, his blue eyes. His hands reached to yours and laced with your fingers. He smelled like sandalwood. Which made you feel warm.

‘I think he didn’t light his cigarette’, you thought. was It was just a few days since you both talked but, you both felt like you were ready to date.

“Should we go on a date?”

His question made you to smile and nod frantically. “I thought you’d never ask”

“Oh, I wanted to ask this when we met, not over phone”, his right hand travelled to your cheek.

“You sometimes… are cliché”

“Don’t you like it?”, he raised his eyebrow with a smirk. Damn… he aint lying.

copyright © vemuabhi

Reblogs and Comments are always appreciated!!

[leclercstarrs]

sick, bellamy blake.

summary: in which you take care of bellamy blake when he catches the virus spreading around the camp!

warnings: fem!reader, kane’s daughter!reader, kinda ‘enemies’ to lovers, mentions of blood and puking, doesn’t exactly follow the original scene from the show, some use of (y/n), and not proof read so grammar but be really trash atm since i wrote this at like five in the morning!

notes: this is lowkey bad and i don’t know if anyone still reads the 100 works but enjoy to anyone who likes this!

“Clarke!” Jasper yells, running towards the drop ship, catching your attention. “What? She’s resting, I’m taking over.” You walk towards the doorway, pulling down the old shirt you have wrapped around your neck to cover your face, wondering what’s wrong now.

Murphy brought back some virus from the grounders, quickly spreading it to almost everyone at the camp. Due to this, you’ve spent the entirety of the night walking around the ship, cleaning up the bloody faces of the people around you and giving clean water to them after Clarke caught the virus and could no longer take over.

As you reach the doorway, your eyes widen when you see Jasper standing next to three boys. One of the boys is being held up by the other two. “Bellamy?” You immediately run towards the boys when you realize who it is, “Jasper, stay outside, you can’t get sick.” You instruct, stopping him from getting any closer to his sick friend. “Come on, help me make space!” You yell, leading the boys towards a dirty cot in the drop ship. “Here, thanks.” You tell them, the boys carefully lying him down before quickly leaving the room full of sick teenagers.

“Bell?!” Octavia rushed towards her brother, who you quickly turn on his side as he starts throwing up blood. “Oh my god.” You squint, somehow still not used to the sight of bloody vomit. As much as you hate the stubborn and self appointed ‘leader,’ you felt awful seeing his current state. “I got this.” Octavia places a hand on your shoulder, letting you know she wants to take care of her brother and have some space, “Call me if you need me.” You nod.

“Hey, get some rest, let me take over now.” You whisper, kneeling down next to Octavia and her sleeping brother. “Are you sure?” She bites her lip, clearly struggling to stay awake. “Yes, go sleep.” You smile. Octavia gives in and accepts your offer, going to sleep near Clarke, still close enough incase anything happens while she’s resting.

Moments later, your eyebrows raised at the sound of Bellamy moving around. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” You breathe out, trying to be as gentle as you can, awkwardly touching his arm. He opens his eyes even more, squinting to make sure it’s you.

“Oh. I thought you hated me, huh? Yet you’re taking care of me?” Somehow while he’s going through a deadly virus, he still manages to piss you off and be arrogant. “Would you rather me just let you choke on your own blood?” You scoff. He lets out a raspy laugh, coughing up some blood in the process. “Ew.” You fake gag when you notice some of the blood splatter on your shoes, still trying to remain lighthearted. “Shut up.” He huffs. “Let me help, sit up a bit.” You mumble, taking the shirt you previously were using as protection and dipping it into a clean bucket of water, then moving closer to Bellamy. “You need to stay away, stop.” He pushes you away, only now noticing the lack of face covering you have on. “It’s fine.” You move back to where you were, carefully grabbing his face, running your thumb over his cheekbones as you gently dab the wet cloth on his face. The dried blood slowly washes off of his face.

“There he is.” You place the cloth down beside him. “I can finally see your smug face.” You joke, earning an eye roll from him. “All better.” You hum. A small smile appears on your face as his eyes start fluttering shut. Although you’re supposed to be against him and his shit leading skills, you still feel a part of you melting at the closeness between you and him. “Okay, you can go back to sleep.” You laugh at Bellamy’s attempt to stay sitting up and awake. “Wait, no, I should-” He starts, you quickly stopping him from moving. “Bellamy.” You whisper, “Please, just let yourself relax.” You tone is soft and gentle, something that surprises both of you, even more the man, his eyes softening. He feels his own heart melt, which also surprises him.

As he goes back to lying down, he watches as you carefully walk away, weaving around the drop ship, avoiding the other people that are lying down. He catches himself almost smile. Now, he realizes he might feel something opposite of ‘hatred’ towards you, the stubborn daughter of Marcus Kane that always disagrees with him, who he’s supposed to be against.

[queermania]

I don't want to start drama and I don't expect you to respond to this but I think you deserve to know what's being said about you. tumblr. com/transfagbenny/738678589192552448/and-id-appreciate-if-we-stopped-using-the-terms

i actually am going to address this because this person has been lying about what's been going on for months and they've apparently been harassing other people for months if not years, so. it's time to put an end to this.

before i start though i want to make it abundantly clear that if you take this as an opportunity to do anything other than block this person, then you are trash. do not send him messages. do not tag him in things. do not harass him in any way. leave him alone. if you need to block, do so and then move on. hate mail and harassment is disgusting behavior and i don't want to be surrounded by anybody who engages in it. and if you do it on my behalf, i think you are worthless and i want nothing to do with you.

so, this is what happened: back in february of 2023, an anon asked me if i had any opinions that would get me canceled with the dean girlies. i replied, "oh now we’re talking!! hmmmm let’s see. i don’t care about benny at all. deanbenny does nothing for me. deanbenny is dust. it is dust. drowley rights forever" and i did not tag it because i'm not an asshole. bear then sent me a message that at the time i thought was funny/cute because his url reflected that he was obviously a huge benny fan. we had a very cordial exchange. everything was good. we chatted a little bit about how neat it would've been if benny had been played by a black actor and how the racism problem with gordon would've been fixed if gordon had been played by a white actor. not all of our conversation is visible anymore (and i also don't think all of it was on this post anyway) because i've since blocked him so his replies no longer show up on my posts. the point is: everything was fine. it was a good tumblr exchange. he continued to follow me. i did not follow him then or at any point.

the problem is that he kept coming onto my posts and into my inbox to try to make things about benny. that is not okay. i had already said that benny was a character (and deanbenny a ship) that i was not interested in. to me, this is an obvious boundary i've established that he repeatedly crossed. it's not an egregious violation, obviously. more than anything it's annoying. what he should've done, if benny was that important to him, was unfollow me and move on. but he didn't and i indulged him for awhile but at a certain point i thought, "okay maybe if i stop indulging him, he'll take the hint." so i stopped responding. he did not take the hint. he got worse and he even started commenting on things that he couldn't make about benny, just to willfully misinterpret things i said and taking them completely out of context. unfortunately, i don't have receipts for any of this because at the time i didn't know it was going to become an actual problem (however I have since learned that this is an established pattern of behavior he engages in, so you can probably find examples on other people's blogs).

it got so annoying, though, that i very carefully broached the subject in a private server with people i trusted. without naming any names or using any incriminating language (i.e. not specifically referencing benny), i basically said that there was someone being annoying about a specific character on my posts and i wasn't sure what to do about it. immediately, a handful of people replied with some variation of "the benny stan? he's been doing that to me too." i do have receipts of this (and an entire server to back me up) but i hope you can all understand why i'm not going to provide those or name names (or ask anyone to get involved publicly). the point is, it became apparent that i wasn't the only one and this was a pattern of behavior. i also learned during that conversation that bear has a history of harassing people and calling someone racist or a transphobe if they block him.

at that point, i decided not to rock the boat. i would just continue to ignore him and maybe he would get bored and move on. well that obviously didn't happen. he kept doing it and as a fun added bonus, he started to make vague posts about me. the thing is i don't actually care if he vagueblogs about me. it's his blog. he can do whatever he wants. it's none of my business. i mean i personally think he should've just unfollowed but, again, his blog, his choice. it is annoying that every single time he would do it, someone would send me a link or a screenshot of him doing it, but that's not really his fault. so, again, i just ignored it.

this is where we get to the incident in question. after a private discussion among a small group of friends, i posted this obviously joke poll at the insistence of @letterstothedevil, a tumblr user who has given me permission to include her in this.

the original message about the poll:

the permission:

now EYE think it's abundantly clear that the poll was a joke amongst friends, but maybe it wasn't, and i'm not going to fault anyone for not magically knowing that. i am, however, totally willing to fault someone for being a gigantic asshole. bear commented on the post and i, admittedly, gave a somewhat dismissive response because at that point i was so tired of him being willfully obtuse and twisting every little thing i said that i just didn't want to bother. he then went and made a series of not-at-all-vague posts calling me racist and claiming that i simply do not care about the racism in the show and it's obvious because i've never ever discussed it on my blog (which is a hilarious lie given that i'd specifically discussed it on my blog with him). at that point, there was no reason not to block him. he was already doing the thing that i didn't want to deal with. so i did. and i thought that would be the end of it.

again, i was wrong.

i then started to get anon messages daily about benny and deanbenny and how i'm racist for not liking benny, etc. this was harassment that EYE was on the receiving end of. nobody else was a victim of the messages i was being sent. they were sent to me and it is not my job to make sure other people are protected from the harassment that i am experiencing. i'm pointing this out for two reasons: 1. because i did try to protect bear from it for awhile anyway. i knew that people would assume it was him and at the time i was still giving him the benefit of the doubt, if for no other reason than the fact that i didn't think he could send me messages since i blocked him. and 2. because when i did finally start to respond to some of the messages, bear acted like he was somehow the victim in all of this (and continues to act that way to this day).

i don't know if bear had (or currently has) anything to do with any of the messages i get (which, thankfully, have slowed considerably). what i do know is that at no point during any of this happening did he stop looking at my blog and vagueblogging about me.

when i finally did answer a few of the messages, bear had a bit of a meltdown about it. i know this because he used a separate account that i hadn't know existed to message me and because he talked to one of my friends about it. (i'm not going to name that person but if they want to get involved publicly of their own accord, that's up to them lol). i'm also not going to share screenshots of what bear said to me because he explicitly asked me not to (it's also the reason i'm not sharing screenshots of the numerous receipts i have of the things he's said and lied about on his blog but, unless he's deleted any of them, you can go and find the posts yourselves.) what i am going to share is that in the message he sent to me, he flat out lied about his behavior. he told me he hadn't been vague-blogging about me, that he would never ever do that about anyone, and that he would certainly never harass someone (all things that i have receipts of him doing).

it took me awhile to respond to this message because i was still trying to be gracious about the whole situation. i recognize that he is much younger than i am and i think it's important for me, as a full blown adult, to take that into account. i had a private discussion with a few trusted friends about how to handle this because it was important to me to not let him off the hook for his behavior and for lying just because he's young. this is what i ended up saying:

his response was to double-down on his lies (while, hilariously, vague-blogging about me and the whole thing) and then go into victim mode about something so completely unrelated and far-fetched that i decided i simply wanted nothing to do with him ever. (this is when he asked me not to share screenshots, so i won't, but this is me saying that i have ALL of the receipts, bear, so if you continue to lie, you will not like what happens.) i blocked his alternate account and tried to ignore him.

the harassment continued. again, i have no idea if he was actually part of it. the vagueblogging continued. he started to do it to other people he associated with me. many of them blocked him because of his behavior. i continued to answer some of the hate i received, continued to ignore and/or block most of it. it got so bad that i was sent seizure bait on more than one occasion, one time bad enough that i actually ended up going to the ER. there are receipts of all of this, too. you can see on my blog the messages i've been sent. i think at one point i even shared a snapshot of what my inbox looked like. i've shared privately with friends (who can confirm if they want to, but no pressure) screenshots of the kinds of messages i get that i don't respond to. the point is, that for a period of months, i was relentlessly harassed. and at no point during this time did i say anything to or about bear (or anyone else). the most i've done is respond to messages that have been sent to me. i've largely sat quietly while this thing happened to me and bear continued to make posts about me and act like he is somehow a victim in this. he's assumed things about me and my identity. he's violated boundaries i've set. he will not let this go. and i'm not the only one he's doing it to.

i'm so fucking tired of it. leave me alone. leave my blog alone. leave my friends alone. leave any and all of the people who have blocked you for your own inappropriate and obnoxious behavior alone. that's it. that's the end. none of this would be happening if you would just respect other people's boundaries. i don't want you on my blog. i do not want to interact with you. i don't want anything to do with you. that's it. the end.

[stizzysupremacy]

ahhh I have such a good idea for a secret reverse sugar baby modern AU. it's sprizzy in my head but I think you could substitute other Izzy ships with only minor changes to details.

So basically the premise is that Ed left and took with him half the income that was propping up Izzy's tight budget. now that Izzy has to cover rent and bills in full instead of just half, he is struggling financially. He really can’t afford to live, honestly. But he's a proud man so he tries to hide it. Tries to tough it out and make it work.

But Lucius (or whoever you fancy) notices and tries to help without making it obvious he is helping because Izzy probably won’t accept help, especially from Lucius, off all people.

Lucius, trying to be subtle, starts:

-timing his smoke breaks so he can run into Izzy and annoy Izzy into ‘stealing’ the cigarette right out of Lucius’s mouth. because Izzy won’t ask to bum one, and helping izzy hands avoid nicotine withdrawal is basically a public service. Lucius is a hero for that.

-“ugh, I told them no pickles! Here, eat this stupid sandwich, I don’t want it anymore, I loathe pickles!” (Lucius likes pickles just fine) or getting ‘just sooooo full’ from drinking elaborate iced coffees that he can’t possibly finish more than half of his lunch and he doesn’t want to waste food but he’s going out straight after work and won’t be able to bring it home to put in the fridge for tomorrow and really you may as well eat it, Izzy, or it’s just going to sit in the trash bin stinking up the whole place.

-asking Izzy to walk him to the tube station after work ‘for safety’ but it’s really so Lucius can swipe an extra ride for Izzy on his transit card. sometimes when it’s cold and miserable enough to make Izzy ache Lucius will opt for cab or rideshare instead as soon as they hit the street, insisting it will be cheaper to split the ride. always drops Izzy off first, conveniently forgetting to split the fare

-buying izzy a cozy cashmere scarf and claiming that it was Buy One Get One Free when Lucius was scarf shopping for himself, but he didn’t see any other colors/patterns he liked and this one just screamed Izzy Hands. (And maybe a knit cap that Lucius claims he stole from the lost and found because it coordinates with the scarf so well)

-begging Izzy to come over and ‘fix’ something ‘broken’ at his place, conveniently near dinner time, just so Izzy can spend a few hours somewhere where the heat and lights aren’t turned way down low to save on utilities. Somewhere warm and bright, where the WiFi service hasn’t been turned off because of all the past due bills.

-constantly starting bets that Izzy can win. This backfires when Izzy starts to feel bad about taking Lucius’ money because he thinks Lucius is a typical starving artist type. Not knowing that Lucius makes $$$$ on furry art commissions and just doesn’t tell anyone about it because his friends, much as he loves them, have zero moderation and would cajole Lucius into partying all his savings away.

And all the while he is being sneakily generous, Lucius is trying to figure out how to trick Izzy into letting Lucius buy him a new winter wardrobe, treat him to lunch every day, and buy back the motorcycle Izzy had to pawn to pay off some debts Ed left when he blew town.

[chubbyreaderwriter]

Too Long

Yondu Udonta x Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Imagine: You and Yondu used to date when Peter was first taken in onto the ship, but things didn’t work out after you left the Ravagers, but when Peter finds you again on a mission, he makes it his goal to get the two of you back together.

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: None

Masterlist

(Takes place after GOTG 2 but Yondu lives obviously)

You stopped unpacking your latest shipment of inventory when the chimes rang on the front door to let you know you had a new customer, “Just one second!” You called out as you hurried out of your stock room and behind the counter where you saw a very familiar face. You gasped in shock, but smiled nonetheless, “Peter? Is that really you?” The boy- no man now, nodded his head and opened his arms, an invitation for a hug which you gladly accepted. You held him tightly, “Look at you! You’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you, you’re actually taller than me now.” Peter grinned, “It’s awesome right? Oh right, let me introduce you to my..crew, this is Gamora, the purple hothead is Drax, the tree is Groot, the trash panda is Rocket and that’s Mantis.” You smiled and waved at them all, “Hello, nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N), I’m surprised Peter managed to make some friends with that big head of his.” Peter rolled his eyes, “So how’s business here? You still keeping in touch with Yondu?” You glanced at the people watching you and Peter, watching as they all awkwardly turned away as you replied to Peter, “No, we uh, we haven’t talked ever since I left.” Peter furrowed his brow in confusion, “What? But you guys were together for like...forever, why not?” You sighed, “Sometimes things just don’t work out and if it’s alright with you, I’d rather not have this conversation right now.” Your eyes darted towards his friends as an explanation. Peter sighed, “Fine, then will you meet me on my ship tonight so we can catch up? I’ve missed you mo- (Y/N).” You smiled, it was softer this time though, it had been a while since you heard Peter call you mom. You gently swiped a little bit of dirt from his shoulder, “You can still call me that if you want honey.”

After a little catch up before Peter had to leave, he gave you the directions to his ship and told you to meet him there at 6pm. He had called out “See ya later mom!” as he had left which put a smile on your face for the rest of the day. You were looking forward to catching up with Peter, he seemed different to the little boy you used to take care of but still almost the same in a way too. At five o’clock, you closed your shop and headed home to get ready to meet Peter. You took a shower and got dressed in black leather trousers, a long sleeved dark blue shirt and black boots, complete with a leather jacket. You put on a bit of light makeup, still wanting to look nice since you didn’t really go out much anymore. It took you a little while to find Peter’s ship but you got there in the end, finding said man standing looking at his watch, knowing you were rarely late. His ship was much bigger than you were expecting and you were proud of him for that, he must be very successful in whatever he does. You were sat down on a padded bench of some kind listening as Peter rambled on about one of his adventures to you when you heard heavy footsteps, “Boy! What have I told you about touching my controls!” You froze in your seat and Peter shrugged, “Oh no.. I must have forgotten to tell you that Yondu is with us. Oh well.” You glared at him and got up, planning on leaving but your body didn’t move as you saw someone walking down the stairs and familiar blue skin when he turned around and came face to face with you. An awkward silence filled the air as the two of you looked at each other. For the both of you, it was as if the rest of the world didn’t exist anymore, you could see only each other. Your heart was pounding in anticipation and you felt your mouth go dry and your palms turn sweaty.

Yondu was speechless for once in his life. He had never expected that he would be able to see you when he woke up this morning. Of course, a day never went by when he didn’t think about you but to actually have you in front of him was a whole different story. The others grew uncomfortable with the silence until Rocket made it worse, “Well this isn’t awkward at all,” Peter jumped onto his feet, slinging his arm around you, “Look who’s here, and she’s single.” You turned to glare at Peter, before walking away, “I should go, I need to..” you didn’t finish your sentence as you rushed down the stairs and out of the exit, about to hurry home. You had barely taken two steps outside when a hand yanked you back around to pull you against a hard chest. You gasped in shock as you looked up at Yondu, “Seven goddamn years you’ve been gone and now you show up, don’t even say nothin to me, seven years without a word.” Your eyes prickled with tears but they were a mix of sadness and anger. You pushed yourself away from him, “You don’t think I wanted to?! It was horrible being away from you and Peter, I loved you both so much you have no idea how much it hurt to leave.” Yondu wasn’t backing down, not that you expected him to, he had every right to be angry after you left without saying goodbye, just a note with an apology written on it. He grabbed your wrist, getting in your face, “Why did yer leave in the first place, you could at least have the decency of telling me that.” You sniffed back your tears, you weren’t going to show your vulnerability so easily, “Because the crew told me that Ravagers aren’t allowed to be in relationships and that you could’ve lost your title if word got out. It would’ve been too hard to stick around and seeing you every day if we broke up so I left, I’m sorry. I did it for you!”

Yondu loosened his grip on you and you took a step back, wrapping your arms around yourself in a pathetic attempt comfort yourself to stop the tears rushing to your eyes, “Those days on the ship with you and Peter were the best I ever had. It broke me to leave, but I didn’t want to risk your position, I know how much being a Ravager means to you and I wasn’t worth jeopardising that.” You looked down at your feet and after a few moments of silence from Yondu, you moved to leave, only to once again be pulled right back into that same hard chest. This time, Yondu wrapped his arms around you, holding you close and you couldn’t stop the sobs coming out your mouth, your hands balling up into his jacket.

Yondu hesitantly raised a hand to gently stroke your hair, waiting for you to calm down before he spoke. “I obviously wasn’t a very good boyfriend if yer thought I would’a chose being a lonely Ravager over having yer by my side.” You sniffled and felt your heart break all over again, finding out you put yourself through all that misery for nothing, though you still would have felt unmeasurable guilt had you been the cause of Yondu being stripped of his title. You wiped your eyes carefully, trying not to smudge your mascara even more than you were sure it had already. “I’m sorry Yondu. Will you ever forgive me?” Yondu scoffed, his blue hand coming up to cup your cheek, “Only if yer forgive me for not coming to find yer and haul yer back to where you belong, baby.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying once again, but your sadness disappeared from Yondu’s next question, “Have you really been single all this time? A fine woman like yerself?” You couldn’t help your smile as you traced your fingers over his collar, “I’ve had a few offers..” Yondu instantly tensed and you saw anger in his eyes as you riled up his jealous streak, “Offers huh? Did you take em?” You rolled your eyes at him, “Of course not, no matter how long it had been, a certain blue whistler kept the key to my heart.” Yondu frowned, “Good, yer my woman, always have been and always will be.”

You couldn’t help the warmth that rushed through you from his possessive statement as you but your lip, “Oh yeah? Prove it.” Yondu grinned wide, his crooked teeth exposed as he did. “Gladly babe.” He placed his left hand on the back of your neck as he leaned down and kissed you with a familiar passion it felt as though no time had passed at all. His right hand placed itself on your wide hip, using his grip to pull your body flush against his. You’d missed the feeling of his body against yours. Your mouth opened into a moan and Yondu wasted no time in letting his tongue inside your mouth, deepening the kiss. Your hands came up to rest on his shoulders, feeling his broad muscles once more. Yondu released a soft groan as he tightened his grip on you, “Hey get a room you two!” You pulled back to see Peter hanging out of the ship’s window and once he caught your eye he motioned you to come back on board. Yondu ignored his adoptive son’s exclamation and made a move to start kissing down your neck. You stifled a giggle from how ticklish his stubble was against your sensitive skin as you lightly pushed on his chest to get him to pull away.

“Come on, I wanna spend time with our son and his new friends.” Yondu scoffed and huffed in annoyance but you could tell it wasn’t real anger, he was just annoyed to be cockblocked. Yondu leaned down to speak in your ear, “Fine but yer spending the night with me, yer got seven whole years to make up for darlin.” You blushed as you started walking in front and let out a small squeak as Yondu’s hand sharply connected to your plump rear as you walked up the stairs. It was amazing how quickly you fit in within the group and you loved seeing Peter so happy with Gamora, happy to know that he had found someone. You only wished that Peter had stumbled across you much much earlier.

[deepouterspacecandy]

The Wolf and the Fox

I’m feeling rather sentimental lately, so I just wanted to pop in here real quick and say that kindness matters. Kindness for yourself, and for others. If your art, whether that be writing or something else entirely, helps you navigate this world—it matters, too. I hope you feel safe today, online, and in real life. This piece and all my work, really, is 18+ only. This one isn’t hot and heavy by any means, but there’s some violence and sexual themes sprinkled about. If you enjoy it, maybe I’ll chip away at another chapter. Otherwise, thank you so much for spending some of your precious time with my words and my mushy heart. Be well.

“This rivalry—whatever it is—ends now,” Isaac barks, pinning you both with a vicious scowl.

Abby crosses her stubborn arms across her chest, a snarl curled on her smug lips. You’re struggling to control the urge to roll your eyes with such intensity that they detach from your skull and land on the floor.

“Not a word from either of you?” Isaac says as his glaring frustration builds. He points irritably at the chairs across from his desk. “Sit down. Now.”

“But I have training in twenty minutes,” Abby explains, her meek manner only apparent when she is around the boss.

“I don’t give a damn—sit!”

Isaac raises his voice, making her flinch, and a sense of gratification fills you. It quickly dissipates when he directs it towards you.

“Did I stutter?” he shouts, kicking at the legs of your chair for emphasis.

As Abby turns her head, a smirk spreads across her face, igniting a fiery determination within you to bring her haughtiness crashing down by any means necessary.

“If it weren’t for him, I’d drop your ass right here,” you mumble.

She opens her mouth to retort, Isaac’s hands slamming down on the desk, causing both of you to jump.

“Consider yourselves lucky I haven’t tossed you both in the stockades. I need you to get your act together before the next raid. Otherwise, I would not hesitate. You embarrass me.”

Abby pinches the bridge of her nose, blowing out a heavy breath.

“Well, I’d hate to be the reason she ships off in a pissy mood,” you say, throwing your hands up in mock surrender. “Now you only have about a hundred other people to accost before she leaves.”

“Fuck you,” Abby says.

“Enough!”

Isaac leans back in his worn leather chair, and the metallic creak breaks the sudden silence of the room. The weight of his authority is suffocating, leaving your mouth dry, while Abby’s hands twitch anxiously beside you.

His finger jabs in her direction first.

“I expect more from you,” he says. “This ends here. Do you understand me, Abigail? I will not tolerate this petty behaviour.”

The verbal lashing doesn’t bring you any delight; instead, it serves as a painful reminder of her superiority over you and the respect the WLF has for her. Respect you’d happily offer if she didn’t treat you like a floating piece of swamp trash.

“You,” he says, his fury focused solely on your shrinking form. “I had high hopes for you. I’m now questioning my judgement and that does not please me. Are you trying to make me look like a fool?”

“No, sir.”

“Come again?”

“No, sir,” you say with conviction, dipping your chin in submission. “It won’t happen again.”

“Delightful,” he growls, his hands steepled in front of him. Sarcasm oozes out of his mouth like venom. “Tomorrow presents the perfect opportunity for you to address your troubles, as I’ve scheduled you both to ship out.”

Abby keeps quiet, but her head drops back with melodramatic flair. Your eyes involuntarily roll in response, unable to contain your annoyance this time. Isaac doesn’t ignore the barbs before him.

“With bells on, do I make myself clear?” he orders.

He gestures for you to leave the room, instructing Abby to stay behind for a mission briefing.

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In the gym, you can feel the tension and stress melt away as you push yourself to your physical limits. Amidst the clanging of iron plates and the rhythmic flow of blood in your muscles, your restless mind finally finds peace.

In an act of defiance, you increase the weight on the barbell, determined to spite Abby even if she isn’t there to see it. With the image of her smug face behind your eyelids, you push yourself through six strong reps, feeling your arms shake on the seventh.

Vascular hands appear above you, hovering just below the bar.

“Spot someone else,” you huff, adjusting your legs and arching your back.

“Seven is good. Eight is better,” Abby says, standing her ground. “Again.”

As the vibration in your arms intensifies, your frustration towards her swells.

“Use it,” she advises, leaning in closer for better guidance. “Let that anger drive you. Again.”

You’re considering quitting and giving her a piece of your mind. You picture yourself ripping into her and leaving without a second glance. Her body remains rooted in place, an unspoken challenge for you to make a move.

It’s the heaviest load you’ve ever pushed, and you can feel every ounce of weight straining your muscles. A guttural whimper escapes you as you force the weight up. Only at the end of your final rep does Abby touch the bar, leaving you to swipe the sweat from your forehead.

“Not bad,” she says.

You hoist yourself up and off the bench, returning the dumbbells you previously worked. It’s late, and the gym is empty save for the gargantuan pain in your ass following you around like a sullen shadow.

“You’re just going to ignore me now?” she asks, leaning flippantly against the squat rack.

“That was the plan, yeah,” you mumble, attempting to restore order to the chaotic pile of free weights, likely abandoned by a soldier with an inflated sense of self.

“Your plan is total crap, but okay.”

Trying to maintain your composure, you shake your head at her arrogance, staying focused on the task at hand.

“Look, we should try to get along,” Abby says. “I don’t want this affecting what goes down out there. People depend on us.”

“Okay, Isaac,” you say, slinging your gym bag over your shoulder with a scoff. “I’ve wasted enough time with this. See you at zero six hundred.”

Her voice echoes behind you as you push through the gym doors and into the dim, vacant hallway.

“Don’t be late!”

If your arms weren’t so sore, you might consider the idea of flipping her off through the window.

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The rift between the two of you didn’t happen overnight. It resulted from a multitude of minor incidents and one miscommunication that was blown way out of proportion. As Abby trudges ahead of you on foot, swearing up a storm under her breath, you’re reminded of this.

“You’re being too loud,” you say, breaking into a slow jog, trying to catch up with her massive steps.

Even as you approach a full sprint, your footsteps are blades of grass in the wind compared to hers. As she spins on her heel to glare at you, you can’t help but feel a pang of embarrassment at how out of breath you are, desperately trying to keep up with her.

“Cardio wouldn’t kill you,” Abby says, waving a dismissive hand in the air before striding off. “I might, though.”

You contemplate staying put, observing how far she goes before she finally notices your absence. It’s likely that she’d travel two states over before she bothered to look back.

“Duly noted. Since we’re on the topic of what wouldn’t kill us, how about you practice walking like an adult human?” you quip. “Instead of a full-grown safari animal. Are you trying to get us assassinated?”

“Just you,” she says.

You’d love nothing more than to fling a sticky ball of mud at the back of her head and leave her sputtering. Unfortunately, you are miles from home and stranded without the vehicle you left the stadium in.

“Screw this,” you exclaim, raising your hands in annoyance before veering off from her direction and choosing to follow your own path.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“Away from you.”

It’s incredibly reckless and potentially life-threatening, but common sense is the last thing on your mind. Before the WLF came along, you had already endured years of living outside the safety of the city walls. Currently, Abby’s actions are hindering concentration, and you’d rather deal with Isaac’s rage than spend another hour bickering with his golden soldier.

“You’re going the wrong way!” she shouts, her voice reverberating off the crumbling apartments.

Sudden, gurgled screams in the distance paralyze you. The racket seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, growing louder with each passing moment, turning your skin to ice.

“Oh, fuck!”

Chaos erupts as a group of decomposing Runners break through the glass doors of the building next to you, hell bent on tearing you apart. The sheer intensity of their shrieks overwhelm your senses as you fumble for your gun.

When Abby clutches your arm, it jolts you back to the present moment.

“Watch my six!”

With a swift yank, she hurls you behind her, rapid gunfire ringing out and adding to the deafening commotion all around you. As you empty your clip, the acrid smell of gun smoke fills the air. A runner emerges, and the lethal tip of your knife slides into his skull, dropping him like a sack of bricks. Your wrists ache as you slash your knife across any infected that break Abby’s barrier until you’re stunned by a pustular crawler who drags you to the ground.

Just as you think it’s all over for you; Abby fearlessly straddles the festering monster and snaps its neck.

With ease, she throws the corpse aside and pulls you up. Your wobbly knees collapse beneath you, expeditiously forged by gelatin and nothing more. Disorientation prevents you from formulating any brilliant escape plan.

You’re not sure how the two of you ended up barricaded inside an eighth-floor condo, but somehow you made the trek unscathed.

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Spirals of peeling paint adorn the large, cracked walls, and you wonder how long the inhabitants survived when the pandemic struck. Despite the layer of mold and dust that coats every piece of overturned furniture, the scent of old leather wafts from the neatly aligned suitcases by the door.

You try to investigate who might’ve called this place home, but the clues are bleak. Empty picture frames rest on the fireplace mantel, with broken glass scattered about like grains of sand on a long-forgotten beach.

Abby disappears down the hall as you lose yourself in the moth-bitten curtains fluttering hauntingly against several fractures in the towering panoramic windows. It’s so quiet in this suite that you doubt anything is still lingering, even in the darkest shadows.

“Let me take a look at that,” Abby says as she flips over the loveseat, laying her jacket over its musty cushions. “Cop-a-squat.”

As you continue to stare at her, she fidgets, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. She clears her throat, gesturing at your ankle.

“You’re limping. Let me see.”

The adrenaline was pumping so hard during the fight that you didn’t even notice that you had rolled it at some point.

“It’s fine,” you dismiss. “We should check for scratches first.”

The snail’s pace you’ve adopted reflects your reluctance and Abby blows out a harsh breath.

“I’m clean, and that can wait—you don’t want that to swell up,” she says. “Come here.”

“Maybe I’ll turn when you’re busy playing doctor. Then what?”

You’re only half joking, but the way her mouth quirks up into a soft smile eases your mind. You can count on one hand how many of those you’ve witnessed on her. It’s a fleeting thought that you swallow down with the lump in your throat, but Abby is exceptionally pretty.

Yeah, you definitely caught Cordyceps.

“I decide who bites me and when,” she says, patting the sofa to hurry you along.

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as her comment sinks in. Her inquisitive gaze dissects your response, and her modest smile transforms into a full-bodied grin.

“That was too easy,” she teases. “An unsullied girl, huh?”

Plunking down in front of her, you watch as she kneels to inspect your injury with a light hand. A dull throb blooms along your foot as she presses and maneuvers it. You do your best to suppress any wincing, but the moment she rotates the joint, pain shoots up your calf.

She pulls a medical kit from her backpack and makes quick work of treating your ankle.

“You are way off track,” you say, trying to scrape your dignity off the stale carpet. “Your train is taking a dirt road—that’s how off track you are.”

“Got it,” she smirks, wrapping the tensor bandage snug.

“And who says unsullied? A gravedigger from the fifteen hundreds—Jesus,” you say. “I didn’t realize you were a whole two centuries old.”

When she looks up at you through her lashes and giggles, the sound is more infectious than spores. You chomp on your lower lip to keep from smiling, but your cheeks sting from suppression.

“I read a lot,” she says with a shrug. “Is that such a bad thing?”

Abby’s rugged hands linger as she rests your foot casually on her lap. The weight of her touch is more comforting than you’re willing to admit.

“I’m personally more concerned about your pale complexion and aversion to sunlight,” you say, wiggling your toes to keep the pins and needles at bay. “Does Owen know you’re a vampire?”

She rakes her teeth over her bottom lip.

“Is this where you finally confess you have the hots for him?” she asks. “You’re off the hook now that he’s no longer my problem.”

It’s as if the God of thunder himself dropped you in an ice bath. As soon as Abby mentions the flat-out conspiracy theory, it extinguishes the glee building between your ribs, leaving you deflated.

“I never had feelings for him,” you say, pulling your foot from her grasp.

“That’s not what he said.”

“Yeah, well, your boyfriend is a fucking jerk and a liar. But that’s obviously no surprise to you, given how everything shook out with Mel.”

As Abby’s heavy gulp echoes through the hollow room, you stand up just in time to avoid registering the pained look on her face. Although you may not be her biggest fan, it never brings you joy to see someone sad, never mind take part in it.

You attempt to distance yourself from the resurfacing memory of Manny’s party. The night Owen’s unrequited alcohol-infused advances made a mess of everything. Until that deceitful night, he had been a loyal friend to you, and it still unsettles you to remember the needless drama his cowardice brought about.

“His story checked out.”

“Oh, did it?” you chuckle humourlessly. “Supreme investigative journalism went on right under my nose, and I had no idea!”

“Why can’t you just admit it? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“You know what, Abby? You’re dead wrong. But I don’t have to explain shit to you. I’m going to sleep.”  

With a purposeful shake, you rid her jacket of any dust before throwing it back to her. Driven by your determination to rise with the sun and get the long, miserable journey home over with, you stagger down the hall into the nearest bedroom.

Why did the damn Humvee have to malfunction and leave you deserted today of all days? If you didn’t get your butt handed to you on a silver platter, you would blame Isaac.

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You are roused from sleep by a faint, repetitive thudding noise coming from somewhere inside the apartment. You blink against fatigue, the sky momentarily captivating you with its mesmerizing gradient of rich purple and blue. The shabby blinds filter the light, creating a lattice-like pattern of warm orange strokes on the walls.

It dawns on you that this dwelling must have been opulent in a previous time.

You stretch your weary muscles and track the sound until the subtle drumming leads you to the balcony. As the first light of dawn breaks, you find Abby poring over a tattered book, her heels absentmindedly knocking against the broken balcony ledge. Her long hair is golden and untamed, cascading down her bare back in wild ropes.

Your voice cracks from disuse as you mumble, “That’s one way to flag our team down.”

Engrossed in her book, she fumbles around for her damp shirt, the fabric slung over a nearby chair. Your etiquette kicks in and you hand it to her, averting your eyes.

“There’s laundry detergent on the counter,” she explains, dog earing her page to in favour of dressing herself. “It’s ancient but it smells better than I did, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Would you come inside already? That looks like it’s about to collapse. Aren’t you afraid of heights?” you ask.

Backward, she crab-walks through the sliding glass doors, her movements awkward and unsteady. As she hops up, the aroma of freshly fallen rain clings to her clothes.

“It’s not so bad when I’m distracted,” she says, thumbing at the abandoned novel. “How did you know?”

“Heard it through the grapevine,” you lie, gnawing at the corner of your chapped lip.

Following your team’s impressive escape through a high-rise complex, Isaac was the one who brought it to your attention. He thought that your fearless leadership would blend seamlessly with her fierce leadership, creating a formidable force. Abby could be the anchor that helped you find strength in your most terrifying moments, while you could be the guiding light that helped her find courage in hers.

Despite its initial promise, Isaac’s lack of realism is well-known.

“What are you afraid of?” she asks.

In this world, there is an abundance of things, enough to fill a scroll ten miles wide.

“People, mostly.”

She purses her lips, a frown pulling her feathered brows together.

“I guess I didn’t help much with that.”

“Yeah well, you don’t owe me anything.”

Her expression contorts as if she’s itching to argue against that statement. You divert her attention from the process by prioritizing the task ahead.

“We should go,” you say. “While it’s still quiet out there.”

She nods, pitching the book into a prehistoric pile of ashes in the fireplace.

It elicits a flabbergasted squeak from you, and she’s beguiled.

“What?” Abby chuckles.

“Now you won’t know how it ends,” you say.

“Nah, I’ve read this ending a million times,” she says, staring after the discarded book. “It’s nothing new.”

You would retrieve it for her if it didn’t threaten to leave your hands and all your gear covered in soot. Maybe her assumption is flawed.

“You’re just a rainbow of positivity in the morning,” you razz, and she snorts at your proclamation. “No, really. I’m floating on air over here.”

“You’re funny,” she says, and the sincerity of her tone takes you by surprise. “I didn’t let those monsters turn you into a zombie. That’s got to count for something, right?”

You suppose it does.

She takes extra care not to appear intrusive as she reaches over to lift the backpack from your shoulder.

“I’ve got it,” she says. “I’ll carry the heavy stuff today.”

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As you settle back into the FOB, Isaac has you on light duty work assignments. It has helped you heal over the past four weeks, and as you’re easing back into your gym routines, you’re feeling strong. You find yourself in uncharted territory though, as this is the longest you’ve gone without joining a supply run—but lending a hand to the cooks in the kitchen is surprisingly fulfilling.

Avoiding Abby in the past has made it easy to continue to do so, even unintentionally. The only connection you’ve had with her since returning to base was through the stack of blueberry pancakes you whipped up for her team, which ultimately got passed on to her by someone else.

Since the mention of her name no longer brings you emotional pain, you’re satisfied with where things are. That is until Abby unabashedly leans over the cafeteria counter and whistles at you, attempting to grab your attention from across the kitchen.  

“Hi pancake girl,” she smirks.

“Pancake girl?” you groan, drying your hands on your apron. “I’m officially banning you from assigning nicknames. I’m still recovering from unsullied.”

Abby’s mischievous expression brightens up the poorly lit mess hall before she quickly commits to a truly theatrical act of sulking—bottom lip jutted out like a little kid.

“Oh man, I hate being punished—for how long?” she pouts.

The line of people behind her seems to multiply, and you try your hardest to juggle multiple tasks, but it becomes incredibly difficult with her playful gaze fixed on you.

“The rest of your natural born life feels appropriate,” you say, sliding a jug of juice across the counter for a group of soldiers. “Or at least until you come up with something better.”

“I can work with that,” Abby says, shuffling aside to make space for the growing queue of hungry civilians. “Your pancakes were a hit, though. My squad won’t shut up about them—and I love blueberries even though they stain the shit out of my hands.”  

Amidst the busy kitchen rush, a fellow crew member steps in to lend a hand, giving you a chance to take a breather. You chug a glass of water before giving Abby your full attention.

“I think it’s time we teach you about some ground-breaking eating tools.”

“Is that right?” she grins.

“Definitely,” you say, grabbing a roll of cutlery from the cart behind you. “For example, this here is a fork and knife combo. Rather brilliant in preventing blueberry stains instead of eating your pancakes like a toddler.”

Abby’s chin dips as she snickers, her spirited mood doing a fantastic job of lifting yours.

“What about that spoon thingy—where does that fit in?” she asks.

“Well, when you bless me with another horrid nickname, I can use this tiny shovel to dig through the floor and escape.”

The sound of Abby’s laughter is magnetic, drawing in everyone around her. She effortlessly embodies effective leadership, and it’s something about her you respect.

“It’s not usually this easy to make me laugh,” Abby says.

“I’m just that good,” you retort. “Unless you’re drinking on the job or something. Are you a day drunk, by any chance?”

She can barely contain her fascination as she shakes her head and looks up. The chow hall fades into a blur as soon as your eyes meet.

“No, I think it’s all you,” she murmurs, her fingers toying with the cuff of her sleeve. “Come on a run with me, okay?”

The clamour of clattering dishes and trays makes it difficult to hear her.

“I didn’t catch that. Come where?”

“A run with me,” she says, pronouncing each word like she’s teaching you to speak for the first time.  

“They haven’t cleared me yet.”

“Not that kind of run,” Abby says, pushing herself back from the counter, brows jumping. “Meet me at the track later, yeah?”

Trying to bridge the growing distance between you, you shout, “How about no!” as she continues to walk backwards, awaiting your response.

Disregarding your answer, she calls out the exact time she expects you to join her, overpowering everything else with her radiant grin.

“But I hate cardio!”

“Don’t leave me hanging, lazy girl,” she chimes, shouldering through the doors until all that’s left of her is a whirl of confused flutters between your ribs.

Her sprightly tone gives that moniker a whole new meaning, making it the most tolerable by far.

By the time your shift lets up, the halls are serene, as most of the residents have retreated to their quarters for the night. By helping to prep the food for the next few days, you’ve lightened the load for tomorrow’s workforce.

Cardio with Abby is bound to leave you needing a rest day.

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The stark contrast between the bustling stadium and the peaceful calm that descends after everyone wraps up their day never ceases to leave you in awe. You’ve spent countless hours in the nosebleeds, admiring the arena you call home.

While cutting through the gardens, the sweet, floral scent that fills the air enchants you. A basket of cherries precariously perches on the edge of an overturned crate, beckoning you to indulge in their juicy goodness.

After popping one into your mouth, you sneakily pilfer a few more for later.

Pushing through the gates with your hip, Abby catches your eye immediately.

Clad in a pair of sweatpants and a baggy tank top, she jogs along the opposite end of the track. Her hair is in a wavy, swinging ponytail, and she looks like a completely different person from where you’re standing.

Despite your instinct to sprint and catch up, your legs remain rooted to the spot, inexplicably frozen. It is surprising to see such grace in someone who’s composed of mostly muscle and grit. The idea of how you might look while running enters your consciousness, a thought that never occurred to you before this moment. You walk just fine. Surely you can run without humiliating yourself.

“You made it,” Abby pants. “I was beginning to think you bailed on me.”

“I should’ve,” you tease. “I could be cozied up on my couch, watching the same movie over and over.”

“Which one?”

“The Breakfast Club,” you say with a half-hearted shrug. It may not be to everyone’s taste, but there’s an elusive charm that entices you to keep picking it up from the library. “It’s my comfort flick right now, I guess.”

Abby flashes a self-assured smile and nudges you forward with her elbow, urging you to get a move on. After a few minutes of walking side by side, you work up the nerve to inquire about the source of inexplicable happiness etched on her cheeks.

“I found that one, actually,” Abby explains, her shoulder brushing against yours as she drifts into your lane. “The Breakfast Club.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“The thing made it through a hellish trip all the way from Eastern Montana. I thought it might be the only thing that made it back for a bit there.”

“That bad, huh? Sounds brutal,” you say, your attention drawn to the laces on her left sneaker, as they slowly loosen. “Well, good thing the movie survived.”

“Ha-ha,” she drones. “You’re just hilarious.”

You appreciate her lightheartedness as she shrugs off the playful jabs, and you contemplate teasing her about her lack of spatial awareness as she keeps unintentionally bumping into you. As you notice her shoelace giving way and dragging on the ground, you swiftly extend your hand to her chest, signalling her to stop.

Without thinking, you crouch down in front of her to retie it, noticing her panting heavily above you at the ministration. Fumbling your first attempt, she chooses not to mention it and instead adjusts herself to make it more comfortable for you.

With one shoe firmly secured by a double knot, you see that her other shoelace is gradually unraveling. You fix that one, too.

“Don’t need anyone rolling their ankle,” you say.

You spring to your feet, causing her face and neck to turn a rosy shade that appears too vibrant for moderate exercise. You’re too preoccupied warding off the heat that is climbing up your own neck in tingly vines to tease her about it.

She softly whispers her gratitude.

Without ever picking up your speed beyond a steady stroll, you continue to complete laps on the track, the repetitive motion becoming almost meditative. She eagerly shares details about the book she’s immersed in, and you hang on to her every word, intrigued by her perceptive theories.

“Wait, did you invite me here just to talk about books?” you ask. “Because I have to admit, I don’t totally hate it.”

“I’m not boring you to death?”

“Not at all,” you say. A crisp breeze dances across your arms, and you to hug yourself to fight the chill. “It’s fun to read books through your eyes.”

“Hold up.”

She jogs toward the bleachers and returns with her bomber jacket in hand.

She clings onto it for a while, long enough for you to question if she intended to wear it herself. Abby clears her throat and clumsily extends her coat and her generosity to you.

“I don’t mind the cold,” she says. “For you—if you want.”

“Oh, so I get to choose now.”

“Yeah, but can you please wear it? The rejection is killing me a bit.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips. Even when she’s just messing around, she reveals delicate parts of herself that help you understand her more. With the garment draped over your frame, you jog ahead and give her a spin.

“Ay! Watch that ankle!”

“Oh, I’m back, baby,” you boast, darting back and forth to show off your agility.

She watches as you frolic around, and you swear the dorky smile on her face only slips when she catches herself doing it.

You stop in front of her, tracing the nametag stitched neatly below the collar.

Anderson.

“It looks way better on you. How is that even fair?”

 “It’s all this running we’ve been doing—I’m the superior athlete now,” you jest. “You might as well quit while you’re ahead, Anderson.”

“Think you can back that up?” she asks, her competitive edge shaking to the surface.  

She points at a couple of lamp posts across the field and starts the countdown. With a sudden burst of energy, you take off like a bullet before she’s ready, provoking her to hurl fake threats after you as she closes in on your head start.

Your uncontrollable laughter is hindering your ability to run as the thunder of her approaching steps grows louder. You cut her off before she can pass, interrupting her momentum and taking the win by a hair’s breadth.

“Not cool,” she huffs, folding over at the finish line. Catching her breath, she steadies her hands on her knees. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, right?”

“You’re just jealous I outsmarted you. All those muscles and for what?” you taunt.

Abby puffs out her chest in a defiant gleam of rebellion.

As you blindly try to free the rogue strands of hair that have become entangled with your lashes, you feel an annoying tickling sensation on your sweat-slicked face.

“Oh, come on,” you gripe.

“You’re ridiculous,” Abby says, drawing nearer. “Let me get it.”

With a slight tilt of her head, she patiently waits for you to acknowledge her offer.    

“Close your eyes for me,” she says.

You oblige, and suddenly, your heart pounds in your chest as her fingertip skims the sensitive skin between your eyelid and your brow. She meticulously brushes your hair back, tucking what she can behind your ears. A warm hum settles inside you as her touch makes your scalp tingle.

“Why are you being so nice?” you ask.

“It’s what you deserve,” Abby murmurs without missing a beat. “I’m sorry I wasn’t before.”

[nobodysdaydreams]

Explaining fandoms I’m not in, but I have seen on my dash from the mutuals (to the best of my knowledge based on their posts):

Why? Because I thought it would be fun and entertaining and I hope I’m not wrong.

The Magnus Archives (TMA)- a group of people document creepy and supernatural events while they slowly one by one discover either that they are the monsters/possessed by them, or that they are being taken in by the monsters, or that their coworkers are the monsters, or that they themselves are possibly friends with or dating the monsters, or that they have been working for the monsters (or bad guys) the entire time. Many of the villains seem to be demented or possessed life sized toys and clowns or eyeballs. This podcast has so many episodes, and I see so many posts about it, but these seem to be the common themes.

Miraculous Ladybug- actually haven’t seen this one on my dash in a long time, but when I first did, despite appearing like a straightforward kids fandom, the shipping discourse confused the heck out of me. But if I have this right, based on the posts from my younger followers, two teenagers are animal themed superheroes who are dating each other and also have crushes on each other, but they don’t know they are dating each other, because they don’t know each others secret identities, because… okay, I still honestly have no idea why. There are ~5K posts about this apparently very central and specific plot line, but not one explains why they don’t just tell each other who they are??? Anything for the plot, I guess. Apparently this has been going on for a long time to the point where even the show’s target audience of children is confused as to how these teenagers and grown adults haven’t put the pieces together as to who everyone’s secret identity is.

Keeper of the Lost Cities (KOTLC)- there’s a girl named Sophie. She is an elf in a love triangle with Keefe and some other guy (I think his name is Fritz). Keefe’s parents are terrible, especially his mom. Sophie has horse DNA (I don’t know if that post was a joke or not sorry if that’s wrong). There’s an elf with fire powers. Elves read minds. There’s a group called the black swan who are the good guys, I think. Also I think the elves and humans are at war. I know Keefe’s parents are trash, does Sophie have parents? From what I can tell, she grows up believing she’s a human but then surprise! She’s an elf and the chosen one, and elves are possibly immortal? Wait, maybe Sophie’s a half elf. Is that a thing?

Spy x Family - two people are fake dating each other for spy reasons but eventually fall in love for real. The twist is, they each think the other is a normal civilian who doesn’t know about the fake relationship (which is kinda messed up to make someone fall in love with you for a fake cover but if they’re also doing the same to you that’s karma I guess) but I think it might end up ok, because they fall in love for real (Aw) but possibly also not okay, because I also think it might be revealed that they’ve been working for enemy sides this whole time (drama). Also the adopted daughter is a mind reader who knows everything but chooses to keep what she knows secret for the plot. Respect. And I recently saw something about the family having a super powered dog? Is he real?

The Murderbot Diaries - a bunch of robots are created for one purpose: murder. But when their murder programming goes haywire, they discover that they might have more in common with the humans they’ve been assigned to kill than they originally thought. Or that they have more humanity inside themselves than they thought… or maybe that the people who created them have more evil intentions than… well in hindsight, “the people who build the murder robots are evil!” seems like an obvious plot twist, but maybe they’re more morally complex or had decent intentions and just never intended for it to go this far… or maybe the robots get hacked or decide maybe they don’t want to be murder bots anymore which brings us back to free will. Interesting philosophical questions, but I think the robots might be getting into some wacky shenanigans as well. Also they apparently have diaries. I get that a diary is just like… a log of what they’re doing, but that won’t stop me from imaging a big scary robot with a little pink glitter pen writing “Dear Diary, I killed three people today. I still see their faces when I try to power off at night. When I go into sleep mode, I dream of their faces. I begin to wonder things, like whether they had families, dreams, or ambitions. I also wonder what they felt in their final moments. I fear this means I am developing a conscience and desire to turn against my programming and the creators. But probably nothing a little update and restart can’t fix. I’ll keep you updated, dairy. XOXO, Murderbot 💕” So. How did I do? Scale of 1-10, with 10 being “you nailed it!” and 1 being “None of this is remotely close. What posts have you been looking at?”

[kelsochronicles]

I want to make a personal PSA post about something I think is important for anyone who follows me for my work:

If you have a deeply rooted issue with Aloy being shipped with men in any capacity, remove yourself from my space. I wholeheartedly ship her with Talanah, but I also equally ship her with Erend. And I see absolutely no issue with other people doing the same with other characters bc from my personal interpretation she is Queer- which does imply she can also be into men. And until GG comes out and explicitly states otherwise, I’m rolling with it. Her sexuality is not being diminished or erased, it’s being explored.

I’m going to be VERY CLEAR in that I’m absolutely NOT HAVING IT when I find out fellow fandom artist friends of mine are being targeted and sent anon death threats bc of their ship. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! We fan artists owe nothing to anyone! Your projected preferences are not something for us to carry around! For most of us, we use these characters as a way to improve our skills because we find them fun to draw. Makes it a lot easier to learn and experiment that way with things we click with. And when you go and shit on an artist for something you don’t like, congrats! You pretty much ruined any chance of them, and a lot of other fan artists from drawing something you do like. So you are not only depriving the community of new art, you are also depriving other people, who maybe share a similar preference to you, from getting to enjoy it also. Because we do in fact talk to each other regardless of ship. We need our little artist community to thrive.

And guess what?! I’m a straight woman myself so you might as well toss me in the hetero trash pile if you’re so repulsed by the idea of anyone liking men.

[livyjh]

Come Sail Away ch.1

Bff’s dad!Joel Miller x Plus size!Fem!Reader

Series rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Chapter 1 rating: PG

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Your spring break has been saved by your roommate and best friend, Sarah Miller. She’s invited you to come on vacation with her and her dad, a man you’ve never met. But you didn’t think twice before accepting her invitation. When you finally meet her dad, Joel, you have an instant crush on him. You thought it was one sided… he proves you wrong.

Chapter warnings: mainly plot forming exposition, no smut, meeting new people, large ships, the ocean, talk about clothes and vague plus size body description.

Series Masterlist

Joel Miller Masterlist

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“What are you doing over spring break?” Your roommate and best friend, Sarah, asks you.

“Probably nothing. I mean, we have beaches and stuff at home but they’re just… gross. Lots of rocks and trash and seaweed and stuff. I wish I could go on that cruise with you.” You sigh.

Sarah and her dad were going on a Caribbean cruise for the whole of spring break this year and you’re incredibly jealous. Home is… fine. Your parents are okay. You love them but you don’t really have a lot of fun hanging out with them unless you’re all doing an activity or playing a game or something.

Being an only child had its perks, there’s no doubt. But not having someone close to your age in your immediate family kind of sucked.

“Sorry, I need to make a quick phone call.” Sarah smiles and gets up, leaving the dorm room for a few minutes.

You’re not sure what she’s up to, and you’re even more unsure when she walks in the door with a big grin on her face.

“Call me a genie because I just granted your wish.” Sarah giggled and sat back down on her bed.

“What?” You sit up and raise your brows.

“You’re coming to the Caribbean with me… If you’ve got $500 to spare?” She scrunches up her nose.

“I have been saving for a car… but I’m doing okay without one for now…” you think for a minute.

“Fuck it. Let’s do it.” You clap and stand up and she does the same.

You both grab each other’s hands and do a quiet but excited little scream. “Yay!”

Sarah explained to you that she and her dad were already going to have separate staterooms on the ship, but now you can bunk with her for a great last minute deal the cruise line was offering.

You were so excited you almost couldn’t sleep. You had one more exam tomorrow and then you were free for a whole week. And going to the Caribbean on a fucking cruise!

***

Your exam was a piece of cake. All you had to do was pack tonight, go with Sarah to her dad’s place, then fly to Florida, and get on the ship.

Yeah. That should be simple enough, right?

You were excited but stressed at the same time. This last minute planning was a bit chaotic but you knew it would be worth it.

You packed all of your favorite outfits that were suited for tropical weather, your sexy two piece bikini, your more modest and practical one piece that fit you like a glove, and your best walking shoes and cutest sandals.

You remembered all of your toiletries and meds, your device chargers, your vibrator (for times when you may get the room to yourself for a while), a sweater just in case, and a few snacks for the plane.

The drive to Sarah’s dad’s place wasn’t bad. 3 hours from Houston to Austin was nothing compared to the trip your parents took to drive you to college in the first place.

You chose your school based on its business major program, which is what you wanted. You were a a year and a half into your 4 year masters degree and 24 years old. You already had your associates degree and decided to take a little break between that and getting your masters.

Sarah was younger, 21 now. She studied music theory and production. You guys got paired up this school year as roommates when your last roommate graduated.

You’ve been best friends ever since.

“Here’s my place!” She smiled as she pulled into the driveway of a beautiful two story house in a nice neighborhood.

Tomorrow morning you three would fly to Florida and head straight for the ship.

For now, you were a little nervous to meet Sarah’s dad. Was he gonna be awkward? Weird? Quiet? Mean? Overbearing?

Just as you two were getting out of Sarah’s car, the front door opened and a gorgeous man about 6 feet tall emerged from it.

He had medium length brown hair that had some curl. Probably more if he were to let it grow out longer. He donned a simple and semi-close trimmed beard, one that was starting to get gray patches around his jaw. His nose looked like it was sculpted from the finest of clays by a renowned artist. His arms were thick and toned, as were his thighs.

“Hey, girls!” He waved and walked down the driveway to Sarah to give her a big hug.

“I’ve missed you so much, dad.” Sarah was almost in tears. You knew she hadn’t been home since Christmas.

“Missed you too, baby girl.” He kissed the top of her head and took a good look at her, like a parent does, trying to make sure their child is in good health and well fed.

“Dad, this is my bestie I’ve been telling you about; Y/n.” Sarah walked around to your side of the car and her dad followed.

“Y/n, this is my dad, Joel.” She motioned to him.

He reached out his (quite large) hand and you shook it happily. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you!” You smiled and tried to keep from blushing.

“You too, Y/n.” He smiled and nodded before you both broke the handshake.

Joel took a breath and broke eye contact as he walked around you to get into the trunk and help with bags. “How was the drive?”

“Pretty chill.” Sarah said as she also went to the back of the car.

You followed, “yeah it went by quick.”

“Good.” Joel smiled at you both.

You brought the bags in and then sat down in the living room. It was nearing 9pm now.

“Ya girls hungry?” Joel asked.

“I could eat.” You shrug, trying to keep from smiling at his adorable accent.

“Me too.” Sarah nodded.

“How about I fix some turkey sandwiches?” Joel stood and walked into the kitchen.

“Thanks, dad!” Sarah spoke up.

“Thank you, Mr. Miller!” You called out.

***

After you all finished eating you took the luggage upstairs to Sarah’s room and got settled in.

Joel retired to his room after a quick goodnight to you two.

You and Sarah got into pajamas, both of you pulling your hair into cute little top knots.

“Thank you, Sarah.” You smile as you both get into her bed.

“For what?” She pulls the comforter up over you both.

“Well, everything. But the cruise mainly.” You reply.

“Of course. I’m not gonna let my best friend have a boring spring break if I have anything to say about it.” She laughed.

You giggled along. “I appreciate it.”

***

The next morning was a blur of airport traffic and security checkpoints. Things slowed down when you boarded the plane.

“I call the window seat!” Sarah walked back to your row and scooted in to the third seat, by the window.

You usually hated sitting in the middle because it made you a bit claustrophobic but this plane wasn’t as cramped on butt space as other ones you’d been on. So you got into the seat next to Sarah and Joel sat in the aisle seat next to you.

You figured Sarah would’ve wanted to sit next to her dad… but you also wanted to sit next to her. Now you had the best of both worlds.

Sarah on one side, and her sexy dad on the other.

Oh god, you cannot be attracted to your best friend’s dad. There’s a rule against that somewhere, right??

You couldn’t help but to keep touching elbows with both Sarah and Joel. You were thick, wasn’t anyone’s fault. With Sarah being so skinny she really only bumped elbows when she leaned in to talk to you. With Joel, he was broad shouldered and half asleep for the first part of the flight. You fell asleep too.

***

“This is your pilot speaking, welcome to Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport. The skies are blue and temperature at a comfortable 73 degrees.”

This was what you heard as you started to wake up, realizing your head was rested on none other than Joel’s shoulder.

You sat up quick, “oh my gosh, sorry, Mr. Miller.” You blushed and laughed a little.

“It’s okay, sweetie.” He smiled and briefly patted the back of your hand that was on the armrest between you two.

“Th- thank you.” You stutter a little.

The lights in the cabin come on and the plane makes a slightly rough landing, waking Sarah up next to you.

“Are we here already?” She held her head up.

“Yep.” You look over at her. “It’s almost cruise time.” You giggle.

“Cruise time?” She mocks you.

“Shut up. I’m still sleepy.” You snort.

***

Getting off the plane and out of the airport was nothing short of a nightmare. It was extremely busy. It took a half hour to get an available shuttle to the pier.

You all finally got on board the ship after checking your big bags and going through security.

You could breathe now. Vacation had finally started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joel Miller tag list: @evyiione

@chyannealaniz @cesspitoflove @supersingle @jrosie25 @blackfemalenerd @bongsrconfusing @milly-louise @farintonorth @brittmb115 @ashleyfilm @steverogers123-blog

Join the tag list here

[shankschewtoy]

Hello 😊

I saw your request were open and I might want to have the Monster trio + Katakuri with an s/o where they visit their s/o town where they were Born only to see that they were unwelcomed here and thrown with Foul tomatoes and other things, and seeing how their s/o react to nothing, just smiling. How would the boys react?

And take your time, take Breaks and I wish you a good day/afternoon/night 🩵🩵

a/n - oh my goodness, where could the entire island’s population have gone?? Katakuri : they’re probably on- vacation?… 💀

Warnings ⚠️ - a slight bit of crack (my specialty), g/n reader, reader has a deadly devilfruit ability

- Katakuri was excited to see your hometown! After all, he wanted to see where his lovely, perfect y/n was born 💜 as you two disembarked off the ship, Katakuri was holding your hand, he was slightly, just a bit nervous to meet your hometown friends/people, would they approve of him even though he looked pretty scary?

- “Don’t be nervous Kuri, they are very nice, and they’ll love you!” You reassured him with your sweet smile, bringing him comfort as he nodded down at you, pulling his scarf up before you two approached the town. A farmer took sight of you, realizing who you were, and his expression turned rotten

- he looked disgusted at the mere sight of you, for a moment, Katakuri thought he was referring to him, not you. Who the hell would dare to look at you like that?! “Damn it! It’s y/n!” The man shouted before others started to run outside their houses, rotten fruit, garbage, and trash in their hands. They all had the same look of absolute disdain written all over their faces as they stared down at you

- “GET THEM!” They shouted, throwing whatever they could at you. Rotten fruit splattering all over your nice clothes, baseballs flying right past your head, grazing your cheek. Katakuri started to block them with his arms, easily knocking them backwards.

- he was beyond furious at this point, yet when he looked down at you, he saw something he didn’t expect. You were- smiling?? He didn’t think you’d be smiling at this! This wasn’t exactly a fun experience was it? “You idiots, stop throwing random stuff at them, I will not hesitate to destroy you.” Katakuri said, a wave of haki surging over them to insert himself into the fight. no one dared to object Katakuri, what were they going to do against a 20ft man-? You led him away from them to a tiny run-down house on a hill, and you sad down on top of the fluffy grass

- “Y/n, why are they throwing stuff at you? You said they were nice.” He was trying his best not to- literally just annihilate this entire island, which he could do with ease, but he didn’t want you to feel as if your home had been destroyed by him.

- “They never really liked me. Maybe because I had a devil fruit ability that’s dangerous.” You said with a laugh, holding your hands out in front of you. He looked saddened at how you were so lighthearted about all of this… But he knew exactly what to do now. And it would happen after you fell asleep tonight.

- In the morning, you started to pack your stuff up, walking towards the town to leave. You already were expecting the fruit to come flying at you, perhaps they’d be more creative about the stuff they threw at you today.

- “Y/n-sama!! Welcome back-!” The farmer from the day before said, bowing his head to you. You were shocked- what the hell happened?! “Everyone! Y/n has returned!” The man shouted before all the others started to run out, handing you bags of food, even the children tried to offer you their stuffed toys :)

- “Katakuri- did you threaten them??? And how badly did you threaten them?!” You said to him with a shocked expression. He shook his head, “I just told them what an amazing person you were. I promise i didn’t threaten them.” You stared at him with an eyebrow raised as if you were waiting for his full answer. He felt sweat start to form on his forehead at your glance, for such a sweet person, jesus you were intimidating to him.

- “…I threatened them a little bit, just a little bit. And I beat up one of them.” He said truthfully. You pinched his arm with a scoff, but you were grateful for him. Thank god you had such a wonderful man in your life. :)

- Don’t expect Luffy to have any self control when it comes to food, and protecting you and his friends. Honestly he was happy to visit this island! You said that it had good food, that was good enough for him. “Hey y/n, what kinda food do they have???”

- “A lot of meat and fruits.” You said with a smile, handing him a bag to carry the meat they’d take back to the ship. “OOOOOOOOO-! THEN LET’S GO NOW!!” He yelled, stretching his arm towards a tree on the island, grabbing you as you both launched yourselves over there. You’d never get used to his impulsive behavior, never.

- “Shishishi~ this island is so cool! It’s so green!” Luffy said excitedly before grabbing your by your arm, running over towards the town. Once you guys made it, the farmers and shop owners took notice of your presence immediately

- “Y/n’s back?!” They shouted angrily, starting to crowd in front of you both. Luffy looked confused, “Y/n are you famous? That’s cool!” He said with a grin

- “They’re not famous you damn pirate! They’ve been known for that crazy ability they have! All they do is come over here and destroy everything… Why would you come back?!” They shouted angrily, throwing fruit at your face.

- before one could hit you, luffy caught it, “Why are you wasting food? And why are you trying to hurt y/n?! You mean their devil fruit?! IT’S AWESOME WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! You guys are so dumb! Don’t even think about hurting them!” Luffy shouted, throwing it right back at them with a devilish glare.

- the villagers almost collapsed from the intensity of his glare, but then when he turned towards you, he looked all happy go lucky again. “C’mon y/n! Let’s go get some meat!!!” He said happily, following the scent of a restaurant nearby.

- Luffy may not be that smart, but he was the best thing that ever happened to you. No one would ever protect you like this before… You loved him, so much.

- of course Sanji would love to visit your hometown! You’re such a wonderful person, perhaps your town would be the most beautiful town he’s seen!

- he thought it could be kinda like a date, so he forced Luffy to stay behind, much to his dismay. “NO- TAKE ME WITH YOU! I’M SO HUNGRYYYYY-“ he cried before you two walked away from the ship, his cries of hunger fading.

- poor Luffy… But he can go five minutes without a snack right? After all, this was about you showing Sanji your home! He held your hand, walking with you towards the distant houses, staring lovingly at your beautiful smile.

- he could stare for days if he could, just seeing your smile made him so happy to be alive. As you two neared the village, the people saw you and Sanji, and they started to walk towards you. “Get out of here y/n! We never wanted you to come back with pirates! You were enough trouble already!” They shouted angrily, holding random items in their hands

- Sanji was confused, you were the literal opposite of trouble, what the hell were they talking about? He stood in front of you, holding his arm up to protect you from the incoming fruit that splattered on the ground. Nothing made Sanji more pissed than people daring to even try to hurt you, and people who wasted food…

- he picked up the dirt ridden tomato, going over to the man who threw it, and then shoving it into his mouth. “Don’t you ever throw things at y/n, and don’t even think about wasting food on my watch!” He yelled angrily, shoving it down his throat as the man started choking on the food.

- “This guy’s crazy- I knew they were trouble!” The woman shouted as they started running away. He turned towards you and wiped off the glare on his face as he looked at you with a gentle gaze. “Are you ok? They didn’t hit you right?” He asked, inspecting your clothes.

- “Uh- no they didn’t… Thank you Sanji.” You replied with a shocked expression. No one in this town would ever protect you when you were younger, you weren’t used to this. He put his arm out for you to hold, and led you down the grassy paths to the shops to buy some groceries for the ship. No one dared to even say a word to you when Sanji was there glaring at them the whole time.

- “I won’t let anyone hit you y/n, I promise.”

- in my mind I don’t think they’d be alive anymore after they throw stuff at you but for the sake of this let’s say he let them live 💀

- Zoro initially didn’t really care about seeing your hometown, but if it meant spending time with you then he’d gladly go. He yawned, walking with you, his swords clinging together on his belt. “What’s his town called again?” He asked curiously, taking a swig of his alcohol quickly. “It’s called Fuja, the people are nice here, so try not to draw your swords..”

- “I won’t, unless they piss me off.” He replied as you punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! Stop! Ok fine I won’t!” He said, holding his arm like a big baby as you laughed at him. He glared at you with a pout before crossing his arms angrily.

- The people of the town saw you both walking through, and they started to form a circle around you, much to Zoro’s confusion. “The hell? You guys need directions or something?” He asked with a confused expression. They looked towards you with the most disgusted looks Zoro had ever seen before. “Why the hell would you come back y/n?! Did we not teach you before that you weren’t allowed here anymore?” They asked you with angry looks on their faces.

- you smiled at them with your normal gentle demeanor. Zoro glared at them, “The hell did you say? We’re not allowed here? We’re pirates, we do whatever the fuck we want. Now get out of our way.” Zoro said, looking back at them with a pissed off expression.

- they obviously backed down, they couldn’t even hope to land a hit on Zoro if they tried. “I don’t like this town y/n, let’s just get the stuff and go back.” He said, walking ahead with his hands behind his head, the people clearing a path for him. You smiled softly at him, grateful for him standing up for you. But then quickly you realized your boyfriend had disappeared into the crowd right before your eyes. “Zoro-?! Where did you go?!”

- meanwhile…

- “This doesn’t look like the thousand sunny.” He was literally on a completely different pirate ship that was already leaving the docks. “Did y/n get lost again? God- what an idiot..” 💀

a/n - Zoro is so fucking dumb 💀💀💀

[takemeorleaveme]

I need to remind myself to just block instead of engaging in an argument with those people holy fk!!! BT SHIPPERS are so delusional they think buddie shippers are more of a problem because we are a bigger ship I hate to break it to you but just because you’re a smaller ship doesn’t mean you being toxic af is ok please grow the fuck up. The way you only see one side of it is so crazy to me and let me REMIND people there are some awful people who take things to far shipping buddie I get that I see it on Twitter but to bring it over to tumblr when we are just trying to vibe it out and have a good time and try and pick arguments with buddie shippers over here because some how we are being held accountable for Twitter users is actually fucking insane to me. Hate to break it to you but Twitter is a toxic fucking trash can of people of all fandoms it’s why I don’t use Twitter. Oliver left because of it I’m not disagreeing but he still obviously loves buddie and the buddie fandom if his interviews and Instagram are things to go off of while you guys are saying we’re delusional he’s in an interview saying he sees what we see.. so like wtf do you want from us really!? I am just gonna continue to enjoy buddie and if I see anything remotely BT or Ot3 related which that is just a whole other thing I refuse to speak on. I’m gonna block cause I stg y’all are just repeating yourselves and I’m losing brain cells. Also I would like to point out I don’t tag T*my if i did it was the anti T*mmy K*nard or it’s always strictly buddie if I have to stop tagging Oliver stark and Evan Buckley until that ship comes to an end I will but I tag appropriately and I can’t help it if they are creeping on our tags looking for a fight.

[calocera]

felt the desire to design my own version of star trek crew quarters, imo the layout of officer quarters they have shown throughout different shows always makes me mad because they are weirdly designed. I don’t understand how the federation allocates ship space because the crew are always jammed in cots or hallways or some other shitty navy-style arrangement; the ships are huge, why wouldn’t their crew (even ensigns and such) have slightly more habitable rooms? Also the fact that in some shows like LWD people can get their own rooms at ranks as low as lieutenant junior, which feels wrong in the opposite way.

Anyways I wanted to design my own hypothetical junior officer quarters that are more than what we have seen. Most officers are on ships for years at a time, so I think the rooms should be at least a little homey.

I know it’s a ship it needs to conserve space yadda yadda so I made a 4 person room and an 8 person room, i’d say it’s like a college dorm vs a summer camp dorm, but it’s better than what has been shown in a lot of star trek imo. Some features include sinks and bathrooms (iirc we never have private bathrooms shown for non-senior officers), extra storage space including lockers and under-bed space (these people are on these ships for years, what if they have stuff?), I tried to adhere to modern ADA minimums for things like bed sizes and bathroom sizes, but it’s tricky since trek doors are automatic and sliding, which isn’t really something i could figure out how to factor into some measurements. Also included a basic replicator, idk if it’s ever stated just how inefficient something like personal replicators for crew would be, but basic replicators for water and nutrition bars + using them for trash just makes sense to me rather than restricting them to the mess halls and senior staff.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hello there!

I was thinking that Cross with 11 and 21 for an enemies to lovers kind of story with a female assassin/bounty hunter would make an awesome story, with your great writing 💛

Thanks for being an awesome fic writer tho

General Kenobi?

Hehehehe, hello anon! thank you so much for the request and for the love. I hope I did your request justice.

Love oo

See Me

Warning: Pranks, enemies to lovers, contention, discussions of assassination, Star Wars cussing, clone's being treated disrespectfully, I think that's it. If I miss anything please let me know.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you sat across the Purge Commander Crosshair. His scowl was second to none, and the way his eyes just focused on you like you were trash, well you just couldn’t wait to keep pushing his buttons. So you sat there with a subtle smile that only Crosshair could actually tell. 

“Any questions?” Admiral Rampart asked.

“I have one,” you raised your hand, keeping your eyes locked on Crosshair challenging him with each passing second, “Do I have to work with a second rate sniper or can I simply pay the fine and opt out?” You smirked as you looked at him. 

His nose flared as he glared at you, “I’d say save your fine, and I can take care of this the old fashion way.” He placed his blaster on the table. 

“Promises, promises” you teased.

“Enough!” Admiral Rampart slammed his hand on the desk, “You both will work together, is that understood? These insurgents must be dealt with, and I frankly could care less what either of you want. Dismiss!”

You stood rolling your eyes at Rampart, you noticed the subtle chuckle from Crosshair as he looked at you. You simply rolled your eyes again and headed out of the meeting room, towards your ship. The last thing you wanted was to stay a minute longer, on this ridiculous ship. You notice Crosshair followed without so much as a word. 

“You know you don’t have to do everything he says.”

“Heh! Of course, you would say that? Have you ever had any loyalty?”

You stopped and turned to look at him, narrowing your eyes, “Remember I’m supposed to be watching your back out there. And strangely, this eye” you point to your prosthetic, “is giving me a little trouble.”

“Easy assassin, you’ll have to get in line to kill me. I have quite the list of people who don’t want me around.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “Just because there’s a long line of people who I don’t doubt want to kill you, however, the only one who gets to kill you, is me.”

“What was it you said again?” He stepped closer invading your space, “Promises. Promises. Promises.” He brushed past you, bumping your shoulder heading towards your ship. Ignoring the glare coming off you on his back. 

It wasn’t the first time you two were working together, and each time, you both somehow found ways to get under each other’s skin. In fairness, he did leave you on the last mission, forcing you to hitch a ride back to base. Although the time before that, you may have left him hanging from a spire on the top of a building. Time before that, he purposefully took your ship when you got into a heated argument. The one before that one, you may or not have dropped his rifle into a pile of mud and prevented him from getting it. 

It was a build of tension, anger, and one-upping each other to see who could piss the other off the most. 

Either way, you were stuck with each other right now. Admiral Rampart, was quite adamant to keep you two working together, you weren’t sure if it was because he had a bet to see who would kill who, or if it had to do with the fact you actually did work well together. 

You threw yourself down in the pilot seat as Crosshair gently placed his rifle beside him, out of your reach. You couldn’t help but smirk at his actions, “Afraid, she’ll have another nice mud bath” you chuckled.

“Touch her this time and I’ll kill you without hesitation.”

You held your hands up in surrender. It wasn’t long before you were both heading to your destination, the hyperspace lights filling the cockpit and playing off both your faces. “I say we give Admiral Rampart a special treat when we get back.”

Crosshair let a mischievous grin appear on his lips, “I’m listening.”

It was the first time the two of you didn’t actually fall into fighting, instead you both found a common enemy in Admiral Rampart and fell into fits of laughter trying to find the most ridiculous revenge you both could come up with. 

As the ship landed at your destination, a lot of the anger and tension that had been there seemed to have eased off. You both hiked to your final destination, it was a three day journey to walk it. Which was fine for the both of you, neither of you wanted to be out there or even complete the assignment. “I heard you had another run in with the clone rebels you used to travel with,” you offered by way of a peace offering as you both settled down for the evening meal … well what consisted of a meal for two assassins on a mission.

“What of it?” Crosshair mumbled as he bit into the pheasant type animal you had caught for dinner. 

“Heard you got injured” you motioned to the scar on his head, “looks bad. Did it hurt?”

“No, it tickled. Like tookas licking it,” he responded sarcastically, rolling his eyes at you. 

 “Sorry.”

He let out a sigh, tossing aside the bone he’d been chewing on. Leaning forward to pull off some more meat from the carcass on the spit over the fire. 

“Heard you had your own mishap,” he whispered, and if you hadn’t been paying attention you would’ve missed it, “someone tried to hack your eyewear.” He pointed to the prosthetic you wore since your first mission ever. It had been a cocky move on your part that cost you an eye. 

You nodded, focusing on our hands, “Yeah, well they learned not to mess with me after that.”

“Good.”

You knew you shouldn’t but you couldn’t help it, as a smirk appeared on your lips, before you looked at him, “Worried about it?”

“No.”

“I think you were.”

“I think you need to focus on eating.”

“For being someone you hate, I’m sure on your mind a lot. Seeing as you keep tabs on me when I’m not around.”

“Don’t want to train another bounty hunter.”

“Assassin.”

“Bounty Hunter.”

“I’m an assassin, thank you.”

Crosshair shrugged, ”Same difference, you get paid to kill.”

“Like you don’t”

“I don’t.” Crosshair stated matter of factly as he looked at you, shock written on your face, he sighed again, “Clones don’t get paid. We don’t get anything, except our weapons, clothes, and food while we’re on assignment.”

“Kriff! That’s disgusting.” He shrugged, it was his way of life, and he didn’t feel any different about it. You looked at the fire for several minutes before looking at him with determination, “I’ll split it with you.”

His head slowly turned to focus on your eyes, “What?”

“My reward. I’ll split it with you. I’ll set up an unregistered account. Set up a phoney ID, and I’ll put your money there, for you to use as you wish.”

He narrowed his eyes as he looked at you, “And why would you do that?”

“Because … I don’t want to train another assassin, either.” You smirked as you looked at him, realizing why there was so much tension and anger between the two of you. 

“You don’t have to do that, mesh’la.”

“Yes. I do. Think of it as payment for training.” You smiled.

Crosshair looked into your eyes, and for the first time ever in his life, he wanted something for himself. 

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[blainesebastian]

can't buy that kind of support

words: 2,123 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (requested by @louisejoy86 ): Reader and Austin see a magazine article that is less than flattering to reader. Austin first talks it out and comforts reader. Then he decides to deal with the writer of the article in any way that you feel most comfortable writing. notes: my whole world has been upside down but it was really nice to write this, just something fluffy :) warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @austinbutlermischief, @stylespresleyhearted

All you keep thinking about as you look over the editorial is that this was bound to happen. Anyone dating a celebrity is destined for a smear article or two but you’ve been dating Austin long enough that you almost thought it wasn’t going to happen. Any reading or post you’ve come across has been fairly positive, or hasn’t mentioned you at all other than to say ‘Austin Butler’s girlfriend’—which is just fine with you. Just there along the shadows but never in direct sunlight is the way to go.

Just sucks that it had to happen now, at the premiere of your television series. A lot of people seem to forget that you too were into film and had a sparkling career on the screen long before Austin. But what do the cameras see?

You greeting Baz Luhrmann at your premiere with Austin smiling in the background, the headline—Y/N L/N—Riding Boyfriend’s Coattails Into Fame? The article is rather scathing, as if the writer had some sort of personal issue with you long before you decided to date Austin and be at this premiere. Wincing lightly, you skim through paragraphs and try not to let your body temperature rise in a slow boil.

None of this even matters anyways—

right?

Standing with it in your hand, you move to toss it into the kitchen trash—only if it were that easy. Kinda lives forever on the internet. Letting out a soft sound, you finally turn the paper upside down and begin to put it into the trash, quickly committing when Austin rounds the kitchen counter.

You startle a little, a soft laugh leaving his lips, “Sorry.”

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

“It’s almost Halloween, I’m workin’ on my scare tactics.”

A soft laugh rumbles in your chest, your hand gently pushing his shoulder, “Don’t even joke about that.”

Austin takes a step forward, wrapping his arm around your waist to keep you close. “Says the girl who loves haunted houses?” He dips his head down to brush his lips over yours.

You smirk but give him a soft kiss back, “Yeah, not in my house though—that’s the difference.”

This unironically feels like the calm before the storm because it’s only a matter of time before Austin finds out about that article. Not that you don’t want to tell him? But there’s no sense in winding him up about it, either. It’s not something that can be fixed and you’re not even too upset about it anyways (something twinges in your chest calling you a liar but you’re not about to consume yourself with it, either. Nothing will come from that).

“Breakfast for dinner?” You ask curiously.

Austin nods, “Only if we can eat it in bed.”

You smirk—should be easy enough of a promise.

Moving towards the bedroom, you want to grab an oversized cardigan and a hairclip for yourself before you’re knee-deep in making bacon, hashbrowns, and pancakes all at the same time. You purse your lips—or maybe waffles.

You hear the weight of Austin walking into the bedroom behind you, “Big question—pancakes or waffles,” Then, as you turn, “Better question—bacon or sausage—”

And sentence remains unfinished on your lips because your eyes zero in on Austin’s hand…holding onto the article you just tossed into the trash in the kitchen.

“Were you not gonna tell me about this?” He asks, setting the article down on the corner of the dresser. He’s not angry or demanding, there’s a soft inflection of concern to his voice and…you get where he’s coming from. You and Austin are open with one another, you share feelings and frustrations.

You’d want for him to tell you if something had been bothering you too so you could listen, offer advice, or help in any way that you could.

There’s also just a part of you that doesn’t want to talk about it.

You resist the urge to clam up, slowly allowing yourself to be pried open, “There’s just…there’s nothing to talk about.”

Austin sits down on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. You can tell he’s not pleased with that answer—not frustrated with you exactly, but the fact that it’s not so easily fixable.

“I mean—” You pick up the article from where he’s left it, going to toss it in the trash again where you hope it stays. Feels like it keeps rising from the dead, “I’m not gonna cause this big fuss over someone’s wrong opinion.”

You cross your arms over your chest,

“They clearly got nothin’ better to do if they’re just makin’ shit up about me.”

Austin shakes his head, “But you’re upset.” And there’s something in the way he says it; it’s clear that he’s also upset for you. Like he doesn’t like leaving this situation not taken care of, especially because you’re hurt.

But also, it makes a wounded laugh slip right out of your throat, “Of course I’m upset.” You don’t really have any other words of explanation, just kinda shrug your one shoulder in saying and? What is that going to solve?

You’ve learned not to let yourself stew about things or it’ll drag you down like an anchor in the ocean.

Austin looks from the trashcan to your face, a soft sigh leaving his lips and stands just long enough to tug on your sweater. He sits back down, legs parting slightly so that you’ve found a position sitting on his leg, your own between his. He wraps his arms around you and at this angle, his face can slip into the crook of your neck. Austin places a long kiss to your shoulder, making you close your eyes. You can feel your body unwind from his touch, knots coming out of your upper back and down along your spine.

You completely relax into him, your head tipping forward so that your nose and lips brush through his hair. Pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, you run your fingers through the strands, moving to tip his chin up so you can kiss him.

“I’ll be okay,” You promise gently, tracing your thumb along his jawline. “Just a bad day,” You shrug, and a bad article. But you refuse to allow it to tear you down.

You do, however, accept Austin straightening his shoulders and drawing you down onto the bed until you’re both laying against the mattress, wrapped up in one another. You close your eyes, breathing in the scent of him as he occasionally kisses your forehead, feeling better already.

--

A week after the dust settles, your friend Rose brings up the article again—it’s mostly an offhanded comment while you’re having dinner together and on a second round of margaritas.

“You know that guy who wrote the article about you, Steve what’s-his-name?”

You sigh softly, dipping a chip in queso. How could you forget?

“I heard he’s gonna call and ask you for an interview—some sort of re-write?”

Blinking, your eyebrows draw together in confusion because what? That— “That doesn’t make any sense.” Because it’s not like you filed a complaint or tried to talk to the author yourself, you just sort of let it go, let it fade into the background and along with it your negative feelings.

“Well you know I got that friend who works at the same place,” She grins—because right, Todd. You’ve heard plenty of stories that went through the sexcapades of Rose and Todd. “And he told me that your boyfriend showed up asking to talk to Steve.”

A laugh startles out of you because no, that doesn’t…that doesn’t make any sense. Why would Austin—

“Are you sure?”

“Todd knows what Austin looks like,” Rose raises her eyebrows, giving a slow sip to her margarita. “Says he was perfectly polite and personable. Promised an exclusive interview for his next upcoming movie if he’d talk to you, write another article.”

And man, alright, maybe Rose does know what she’s talking about because that’s Austin to a T—especially if he wants something.

“Did he overhear the conversation?” You’re still wrapping your head around this. If he went and talked to Steve about the article that’s…that’s actually really thoughtful. You know some girlfriends might not be thrilled about him drudging up buried ghosts, or going behind your back to do it but…

You can’t think it’s anything other than protective, sweet. Just makes you that much more thankful for him.

Rose grins, “I can tell you what Todd overheard.”

You hum warmly, waving the waiter down for another round of chips.

--

Here’s the thing—Austin knows that you are more than capable of handling things on your own. This article that has randomly exploded in your face is unfortunately not the first or the last inconsiderate writer you’re going to have to put up with. He knows that a bit of time has passed and that there’s no lingering sense of resentment but…

Seeing you upset just doesn’t sit right with him either—which is how he’s ended up in Steve’s office talking to him for the better part of a half hour.

The guy wasn’t too thrilled when he showed up unannounced either. Austin has a feeling this isn’t the only time the boyfriend of a girl that has had a negative article written about her has showed up to resolve the issue. Steve was probably afraid he’d hit him.

Definitely crossed Austin’s mind when he first saw the article, not gonna lie there.

“All I’m saying,” Austin leans forward on the couch in Steve’s office, his elbows resting on his knees, “You don’t know Y/N at all if that article is who you think she is. You should talk to her, get somethin’ real to print.”

With that comes promises, things he also has to deliver—but that doesn’t bother him. Not as long as you’re happy.

--

Thank god you live in a time of Ubers because coming home from dinner, you’re a bit more drunk than you intended to be. That toasty warm glow that wraps around you like a blanket and makes it slightly difficult to toe your shoes off after the door closes. Humming, you set your bag down along with hanging up your jacket, making a b-line for the living room.

“Hey,” Austin smiles at you from the corner of the couch, a soft laugh leaving his lips when you end up putting yourself very comfortably on his lap. “Good dinner?”

“Great dinner,” You smile, pulling your legs up. You situate yourself sideways, legs along the cushions, back against the arm of the couch. “But you know what’s even better? You.”

Austin smirks, his one arm slipping around your back while the other settles on your legs, “You know I did hear something about that.” He teases.

And you know he probably has no idea what you’re talking about, you’re barely moving through all the nice things you thought to say the moment Rose told you about all of this. The margaritas are making your head feel fuzzy but it does little to dim how deeply you feel about Austin, how much you love him, how good he’s made you feel by having your back.

You can’t buy that kind of support.

“Thank you,” You whisper, cupping his cheek with one of your hands.

Austin’s mouth opens slightly, his blue eyes brightening with the realization that you know. He takes the hand off his face to press a kiss to your knuckles. “Nothin’ you wouldn’t have done for me.”

While you know that’s true, it still means something that you can’t quite explain with words—just a consistent thrumming behind your ribcage.

“You’re gonna get a boyfriend award for this.”

Austin cups both sides of your face and gosh, his hands feel so large right now against your heated cheeks. There’s a small thrill that shoots through your stomach at the sensation of the cold metal of his rings on your skin. You must say something about his touch outloud because Austin grins,

“And you’re really pretty,” He presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose, “And tipsy.”

You purse your lips, as if in thought. “Maybe.” A soft laugh bubbles up in your throat.

Austin presses another kiss to your temple, “Can I take you to bed?” He murmurs, lips still along skin. Smiling, you nod before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

And even in your state of rose-colored glasses, you know he just wants to take care of you—nothing less, nothing more. Because that’s really what Austin does best.