#UPS Shipping Services Near me

[izzabela]

Hear me out:

Bi han x fem reader where bi han takes reader out on a date but he didn't introduce them to his brothers or the earthrealmer champion. One day bi han takes y/n to a fancy dinner and johnny sees bi han in the distance and decides to go up to them as a group(everyone is having dinner together but bi han declined and didn't know they were going her) they try to get to know her and she has rock manipulation powers and bi han gets a bit possesive over them being so impressed and in awe with her

Unprecedented - Bi Han x fem!earth-bender!reader

in which Bi Han's date is ruined by idiots

a/n: hear me out- YEAH

ship[s]: bi han x fem!earth-bender!reader

warning(s): suggestive ending, semi-kanon story?

Bi Han does not forget things often or easily.

However, the fact he has been dating you for a year, and without introducing you to his family or the knuckle-heads he trained from time to time, was an incredible feat. It wasn't his fault though.

He was busy running a clan that spanned his family for generations. He sent his brothers on missions constantly, himself going along when needed.

He also left the Lin Kuei palace to train the champions at the Academy, and not bring them to his home.

His life also lied in life-or-death kombat, and Bi Han did not want you to see or know about it at all. Uncharacteristic of him, but he couldn't help it. Hell, he even kept his cryomancy at a minimum.

While you may have powers, the ability to manipulate the very earth you stood on, you did not align with the world of fighting and constant battle Bi Han faced. Instead, you used it in service of your hometown.

A town similar to Fengjian, but it was filled with older folks who couldn't lift plowing equipment the same way they did in their youth. You tilled the fields, harvested, and more chores that the elders couldn't do.

This was a defining characteristic about you that made Bi Han fall for you. You were protective of your "clan", just as Bi Han did for his. How he didn't introduce you to his family was a mystery to him still.

The consequences of this choice would be reaped momentarily.

In a rare instance, Bi Han snagged a day off and took you out on a date. Was it fancy? To the naked eye, no, but you were meeting an elder Bi Han respected and has known since childhood.

So yes, in hindsight it was. And you were hitting out of the park.

Madam Bo was absolutely smitten with you. She came off intimidating, at first, practically sizing you up as you stood, sat, and ate with Bi Han.

However, over the course of the meal, she checked up on both of you and asked many questions. Now, near the end of the meal, you had made her a happy auntie.

"How do you find Madam Bo?" Bi Han asks you. You dab a napkin on your lips to wipe away any sauce before answering.

"Intimidating at first, but she is truly a kind woman," you note her qualities. "And tough too! I like her fire."

Bi Han nods, approving your view on his retired elder. "She is well-known in the clan. I am glad you also agree with the sentiment I and the rest of the clan has of her."

You take a big bite of your food, chewing and swallowing first before you ask about family.

"How come I have not met your brothers yet? You speak highly of them, and it would be a shame to not meet them after a year of dating..." you sigh, dejected at not meeting his family.

As he begins to answer, he can hear the flamboyant voice of a certain actor in the distance. He flicks his head around to scan his surroundings, and his eyes meet the devilish glint of the actor.

"This is... unprecedented," Bi Han sighs.

"Bi Han? What is it?" you ask as you follow his eyes.

You meet the gaze of a man with brown hair and sunglasses, a man with a bun, a blindfolded man, and a man with a... razor hat?

You also note a man with gray hair and a man who looks awfully similar to your boyfriend.

They all come your way, and they're all smiles as they converse and ask questions.

"Greetings to the Lin Kuei's grandmaster," the man in a pulled-back bun says. "What brings you here?"

Bi Han nods his head to acknowledge him, "I am enjoying a meal with my... beloved."

Suddenly, all eyes are on you (even the blindfolded man). They're all looking up and down at you, and you're shy as you introduce yourself.

"You are brother's beloved?!" the ash-haired man exclaims, which earns him a smack on the back of his head.

"Tomas, show some respect," the Bi Han look-alike scolds.

"We are Bi Han's brothers. I am Kuai Liang, this is Tomas," Kuai Liang introduces himself. "It is a pleasure to finally meet the one who has our brother's heart."

You blush and bow, telling him to get up as you go around the crowd asking each man their names.

The man wearing sunglasses was named Johnny, the one who greeted Bi Han first was Raiden. Next to him was the blindfolded man Kenshi, and the sharp hat guy was Kung Lao.

Bi Han finishes paying the bill silently, watching over you as you converse with the champions and his brothers.

He can hear them asking questions on how you two met, if you had powers, where you were from, blah, blah and blah.

It made Bi Han twist and writhe in... agony? No, that wasn't right. Whatever the emotion was, he had never felt it until now.

He watched as you giggled at Kenshi and Johnny's bickering, blushed a bit at his brother's compliments, laughed heartily at Kung Lao's useless flirtation, and smiled at Raiden's humble praises.

It honestly baffled you on how Bi Han could not introduce you to such a colorful group of men.

"What brought you all here?" you asked, finally having the floor for questioning.

"Tomas owed us a meal after I won a spar," Kung Lao bragged.

You giggle again, "Well then, I won't keep you all waiting." You get up and come to Bi Han's side and place a hand on his shoulder.

"We will be taking our leave, do enjoy yourselves!"

Bi Han nods, and as quick as lightning he took you out and away from the restaurant. You didn't even get a chance to say goodbye.

"B-Bi Han!" you yell. "My darling, what has gotten into you?"

Bi Han doesn't let go as he keeps walking. Your wrist is in his hand, and it grips rather tightly before he stops and turns around.

"Darling?" you call to him softly. "Tell me, what's gotten you acting like this?"

You put your hand on his cheek and watch him lean into it. Like a little house cat, purring into the warmth of his owner.

"Bi Han?" you ask again.

"I did not like how close they got to you," Bi Han whispers.

A ghost of a smile appears on your face, and you rolls your eyes as your thumb strokes back and forth on his cheek.

"Darling? Do not tell me that you're jealous?" you question him as he simply huffs.

"I am not a fool who cannot control his emotions," Bi Han says as he crosses his arms, pulling away from your touch.

You giggle as you circle him, teasing him like a child as you keep poking him with questions.

You stood on your tip-toes to reach his ears, whispering something rather raunchy to get him out of his stump.

"You have all of me, and I can show you once we go back home."

Bi Han had never summoned a portal so fast in his life.

=====================

lowkey a lazy ending, im tryna watch the olympics

dont worry, more fics coming your way

see yall in the next fic!

[atskiruma]

Chatty Medic

expl: after meeting and patching up Soap on a dangerous mission, simon takes an interest in your conversational personality during your service

a/n: hi, second person writing, gender-neutral reader, mw2 settings, reader is implied to be a little short, sfw, reader is mentioned to have hair, 1,855 words

When you were first approached by your sergeant about loading onto the Spec-Gru plane to assist an injury, it was definitely nerve-wracking at first. To be on board with immensely important generals, lieutenants and captains was a scary thought with how low ranking you were in the medical field. Nonetheless, you obliged and with your medic bag in hand you began to board the ship.

The first thing you saw as you descended up the stairs of the military plane was Captain Price standing at the top with a smile. You had known Price previously when he visited the medic facility and was nice enough to start a short conversation with you. His eyes grinning as he greeted you stepping onto the plane.

"It's good to see you," He spoke, "I'm sorry that this request is so short notice, if we'd known the medic we usually had was already boarded on another plane I would of already notified you."

You smiled at his kind gesture, "No problem, I'm glad to help." In response, he smiled a little more.

"Great, just follow me, he's down here." Price spoke while turning to make his way through the plane. Following him closely, you couldn't see much with his tall stature blocking the view, but nevertheless you examined what you could beside you. Being as this was your first time in such an expensive and high-class aircraft, the numerous equipment was fascinating.

Finally making it into the main compartment, Captain Price stepped out of the way to give you view of the problem. 11 people sat on each side of the plane while 1 laid in the middle on a stretcher. A couple of the members looked towards the 2 people entering and the eye-contact made you a little nervous.

"Sergeant Soap, or Johnny, was hit by a bullet near his torso." Price said as you watched Johnny lift a weak hand in the air comically. You nodded at his words and walked towards Soap laying on the stretcher. A couple more eyes followed your movement but you kept yours set straight.

"Hello Johnny, how are you?" You spoke softly as you set your bag down and began to put gloves on for the procedure. He smiled up at you and spoke, "Doing well, until now, you?"

Smiling at his little joke, you spoke, "Fine, until now, but once we get you all fixed I'll be feeling a lot better." Giving him a soft smile before turning to adjust your tools. Soap also smiled bigger when you spoke such kind words to him.

As you began fixing up his wound and cleaning the blood, conversation began to start between the two of you. Although it wasn't common in the medical field, you enjoyed talking to whomever you were helping.

"You're quite talkative for a medic." Johnny stated as you were threading the sutures in his stomach. Without looking away at your work, you spoke, "Well wouldn't you wanna get to know the person digging into your skin right now?" He blinked a bit at your words before laughing, "You're not wrong!" Little did you know a second pair of eyes was peering in on this conversation as you were having it.

This calm atmosphere continued until you were finished and the plane had finally reached it's destination at the Army Facility. While most of the members in the ship started to get up and leave, you stayed behind to organize all the tools you used for Johnny's injury.

The sound of footsteps behind you stopped your task and forced you to look, seeing two men standing behind you, Captain Price and another man with a ghost mask. Price spoke up first,

"Thank you again for the service, I'll make sure to note your superior of what a good job you did just now." His smile was calming to look at, and you could tell why this man was given the role of Captain just by his serenity. The man in the ghost mask however just continued to stare you directly in the eyes without saying a word. His presence seemed heavy and dominating as he didn't blink nor look away.

Giving Price a smile and a few quick glances at the ghost-masked man, you nodded your head and spoke, "I appreciate it, sir. Feel free to request me anytime." After that, both men left the plane and you followed shortly after to head back to the office.

-

When you were approached for the second time by your sergeant about helping another high-ranking officer, you didn't expect it to be the notorious staring masked gentleman from last time. It had been a couple weeks since you had taken on the big role of helping Spec-Gru and since then you haven't given it much thought.

Until now, when you walked out of the office and into the medic hall, seeing the tall, frightening man sitting on one of the small medic beds. Nurses passing by gave him glances as he sat staring at the floor, others turned towards each other and fawned over him.

Putting on your best smile, you walked over and greeted him. "Hello, how are you?" You spoke, watching as his eyes lifted to look at yours and continued to stare for a while. Clearly not a talker, you stated in your mind. Blinking and reaching for the clipboard placed on the small table next to the bed, you continued, "It's okay if you're not up for speaking, almost everything I need to know is here anyways."

After reading his file, you smiled again and looked at him, he was already staring at you before you spoke, "It's nice to see you again Simon, I know we met a while back when I patched up your friend Johnny." His eyes never left yours as you tried to spark a conversation between the two of you. Nonetheless, it wasn't sparking at all, it was more like trying to start a fire in the rain than anything.

Deciding you'd have to talk for the both of you, you continued to chat with him about little things. How the weather was, wondering what they'd be serving at lunch for today, if he enjoyed the lunches they did serve here. Fortunately, he wasn't deaf, because when you asked for him to lift his sleeve in order to see the damage he obliged.

"That must of hurt," You said as you tightened your gloves and held his arm with one hand while picking around the wound with the other. "I know that you're not much of a talker Simon but if anything I ever do hurts feel free to pull away in order to show me."

This one-sided chat continued on for 30 minutes as you assessed the damage and patched him up, frequently sharing little bits of your life to keep the fixing process less boring. Just as you finished you decided to speak again, "Feeling better? Anything else you need from me?" Simon looked at you and shook his head, finally speaking with a rough British accent, "No, thank you." Was all he said before he stood up and left the wing.

The interaction was odd, but not too odd, because you could tell while he definitely wanted a large wall between him and strangers, he kept a very respectful manner regardless.

-

You saw Simon again on Sunday, when last time you saw him was Tuesday. He was back at the medical center again and requested your service as well. When told he was waiting in the wing for you, you put on your best smile and approached him again. This time, his eyes were staring straight at the hall you were coming from before you turned the corner.

"Hello Simon, it's good to see you again, how are you doing?" You spoke as you smiled at him and turned to grab some gloves to put on. This time, he responded.

"Doing fine, thank you." His gruff voice spoke out, a small smile made its way onto your face at his response.

"I'm glad, I'm sorry you're hurting today but I promise to do my best to fix that." You tried to soothe the possible ache he was feeling somewhere and comfort his worries if he had any at the same time.

Simon nodded at your words and stared at you as you examined the clipboard with his problem. A small gash in the arm, simple. You then proceeded to explain the type of ointment you were gonna use to numb the pain and pressed to advise you if it hurt anywhere.

Again, you started to speak of plain conversation starters and this time Simon either nodded or actually blinked when you spoke towards him. Progress is progress, you told yourself as you finished bandaging his upper arm and making sure no other injuries were present.

Seeing as he requested for you twice when aiding an injury, you began to wonder if he was enjoying your little chats. Deciding not to get ahead of yourself, you told him he was all better and wished him a goodbye on his way out.

-

Thursday rolled around and you were again, called to go check up on Simon in the medical wing. This time around though he seemed more interactive than usual. When you first stepped out of the hall and walked towards him, he spoke before you.

“I like what you did with your hair today.” He said, as he stared directly into your eyes. The compliment shocked you but nevertheless you smiled anyways and replied,

“Thanks! I tried something different today. What seems to be the probl-“

He interrupted you before you could finish, “You should wear it like that more often.” His eyes continued to hold yours as the awkwardness set in from his words.

“You think?” You spoke, as you lifted a hand up to twirl a piece around your fingers. “It wasn’t that difficult to do,” You continued, “Maybe I will, if I see you sometime this week I’ll make sure to wear it like this.”

Your eyes followed to the table next to bed, expecting to see a clipboard but instead it was empty. “That’s odd..” You trailed off, “Did nobody examine you before you came in?”

Turning to him again, for the first time since you met him he avoided eye contact. “Simon?” You questioned as he kept looking towards the ground.

“M’ not injured.” He mumbled, still avoiding your eyes. Your eyebrow rose as you held a concerned look on your face from his sudden change in personality. Instead of speaking, you waited to see if he’d continue his reasoning.

“Was wondering if you wanted to do something, sometime.” He spoke, giving you a quick glance here and there. Your confusion was still evident on your face. “Never done this before, think you’re pretty.”

“Oh,” was all you said as your cheeks dusted a light pink color. Simon looked as if he was trying his best at the proposal, so you tried to ease the stress. “I’d love to, when are you free?”

~

[nolita-fairytale]

bad moon rising | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

summary: in another lifetime, you meet mikey berzatto by chance one halloween night in nyc.

or, the fic based on this headcanon

warnings: angst, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person pov, drug usage, high mikey b, swearing, family drama, depression, not a happy ending

wc: 3.7k

a/n: i wrote about grief again. shocking, i know. thank you all for your interest based on the headcanon it came from and thank you for your patience. i wanted so badly to post this around halloween and have been sitting on it since the better part of last year as one of my wips. finally, finally, it's here!! i took a slightly different approach than the headcanon, but i think it still does it justice. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the carmy taglist.

this what-if fic takes place october 2021 because it's make my heart surrender-canon that mikey and reader never met; reader x carmy are best friends and colleagues but it has not gone further than that.

masterlist

Halloween, in another lifetime:

“Can I get hands, please!” Carmy shouts out to the entire kitchen, only to be met with a strong chorus of ‘hands’ in response.

His team works together like a well-oiled machine; a tight run ship, led by a captain near-suffocated under the weight of the chip on his shoulder. 

“Chef!” you hear the sound of your general manager’s voice ring through the kitchen, causing many a-heads to turn. She rarely comes into the kitchen during dinner service unless it’s serious. Her eyes lock with Carmy’s as he looks up from his expo, as if she’s about to deliver bad news. 

His mind races through the possibilities, preparing to solve the next oncoming crisis. Could it be an undercooked steak? An overcooked duck breast? Another complaint of ‘too salty’ or ‘underseasoned?’ 

“Chef, you uh… you have a visitor,” she says instead–the last thing he expects to hear. 

A visitor? 

“Wh-?” 

“Someone’s here to see you. Says he’s your… brother??” Carmy’s ears begin to burn, as he searches for your face amidst the chaos, your gaze there to catch him even from across the kitchen. Your presence feels reassuring, like a strong man in a storm. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s knee deep into service and he cannot get the sound of tickets being added to the expo out of his head. He opens his mouth to say something but he’s uncertain any words come out of his mouth, unsure of what he’d even say. You send him a reassuring nod, and it’s as if in one look, you’ve made the decision to go. 

“Chef, you good?” Carmy hears you ask the head pastry chef. 

“Yeah, we got it. But don’t take too long,” she answers with a curt nod of approval. 

He watches as you nod again, this time in recognition of your boss’ answer, as you pull the food-grade nitrile gloves off of your hands, discarding them in the nearby trash can. Without a word, you follow Kate closely behind, exchanging a few words with her as the two of you disappear to the front of house. There’s a war inside of Carmy as he watches you go–a pang of guilt and a feeling of relief–that whatever it is, you’ve agreed to take care of it. 

In all of the years that he’s been in New York, no one’s come to see him–the possibility of it happening now, let alone as a surprise, feels improbable. 

Must be a prank or some shit…. 

It couldn’t really be Michael, could it? 

As you seek out the answer, your feet carrying you faster than you anticipated, you realize that you’re searching for a face you’ve only seen in photographs. Kate follows closely behind while you push through the front door of the restaurant only to find a man pacing just outside of the restaurant, a ghostface mask in hand. You can tell he’s been sweating, the circles under his eyes just as dark as the ones you’ve become so familiar with in Carmy, with an anxious look in his eyes as his gaze turns towards you. 

He’s certainly not the larger-than-life older brother you’ve seen in the sparse amount of pictures that Carmy’s shown you.  

“I got this, Kate,” you mutter over your shoulder with a confident nod, letting your general manager know that you’re good on your own. “You sure?” she asks you quietly. 

“I’m sure,” you answer, watching as a disappointed look spread across Michael’s face as soon as he sees that: 

“You’re not Carmen.” 

“Uh… no. I’m not,” you reply, hearing the front door to the restaurant close behind you. The man swears under his breath, and you watch as face changes from disappointment to annoyance quickly, as you try your best to come up with an explanation that may satisfy him. “He uh… he can’t come out. Not right now. So he sent me.” 

Michael scoffs with a shake of his head, his eyebrows quickly rising and falling incredulously as he takes another drag off his cigarette. 

“Shit... the guy can't even make time to see his big brother?" he asks, the annoyance obvious in his voice this time. 

You take a step towards him, your arms folded across your chest. 

“I’m sorry. I-, I don't think he was expecting you,” you answer, much more compassionately this time. 

“Right,” Michael mumbles, barely loud enough for you to hear. You watch as he throws the butt of his cigarette down on the pavement, before stamping it out. 

“It’s just-. He would if he could. I know it. It's just a busy night. I-... we're doing 200 covers tonight and uh... well, he runs the kitchen so,” you try again, and you can practically feel the disappointment (and resentment) burying itself deeper in Michael. 

“Yeah, no thanks, lady. You don’t need to explain it to me. Jagoff can’t even make time to say ‘hi’ to his brother. Sends you to do his dirty work instead,” Michael dismisses you, bitterly. 

He takes a beat. And then another, as if he’s accepted that he’s not going to see Carmy after all. 

“Why don’t you come inside? I’m sure-,” you offer, taking another step towards him. 

“‘S alright, sweetheart,” he dismisses you again, this time gentler. “You don’t need to make up for his bullshit.” 

You open your mouth to say something—anything in defense of Carmy—but you’re certain that nothing you have to say will be enough for your best friend’s older brother (save for Carmy coming out here himself).

With a nod, you accept defeat, turning to go back inside. But there’s something that stops you—like you just can’t just go back inside without trying to remedy the situation one last time. This time all you say is:

“I don’t know how long you’re in town for but… we should be off by midnight.”

Michael only offers you a sympathetic smile before you slip back inside. 

—---------------------------------------

It’s not until you and Carmy are packing up your things to head home that he brings it up—his mysterious visitor—hesitant to ask the question that’s been eating at him all night. 

“So uh… was it really him? Michael?” he asks you, cautiously, as he watches your face carefully for any kind of reaction. 

“Uh… yeah. I mean, at least the guy I recognized from your pictures,” you reply, hoping that the answer (or the fact that he missed his brother) won’t break his heart. 

A beat.

“What’d he want?” Carmy asks, trying to mask his curiosity as best as possible. 

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “Seems like he found himself in the city. I didn’t ask. I didn’t… know if you wanted me to.” 

Carmy tries again. 

“Oh no. It’s-, no I didn’t-, no, it’s okay.” 

He takes his time, making up his mind about what he wants to say next. 

“It’s weird, right? Guy can barely pick up the phone to say hello but… he can show up unannounced and just like-, expect me to drop everything?” he asks you—the look in his eyes telling you that his mind is miles away. 

“I- I don’t know, Carmy,” you reply, heavily. “Are you… do you wish you had gone instead of me?” 

Carmy’s quiet as he follows you out of the back door of the restaurant, thinking his answer over. 

“I don’t know,” he answers slowly, a lack of confidence as the words fall out of his mouth. “Maybe?” 

He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel and right now he just feels… ambushed, which only makes him want to shut down. 

Instead, Carmy changes the subject back to your post-work plans, the two of you debating what kind of post-shift late night meal you’re going to have before settling on a few slices of pizza on the way back to your place. You and Carmy cut through the alley to the front of the restaurant so that you can begin your late-night sojourn, and it’s only when he spots something odd that he stops you. 

“What the fuck?” Carmy cuts you off, holding an arm out in front of you to stop you from walking any further. 

You follow his line of sight right over to a figure moving towards the both of you. In the brief glimpse you’ve gotten of the person moving towards you, all you can see is a quick flash of the ghostface mask they hold in their hands as a bus drives by, obstructing your view. 

Carmy’s heart stops, fear filling his chest as the bus speeds by, the person getting closer and closer until…

“Michael?!” Carmy shouts, squinting as he sees the man approach. His expression of pure shock leaves his jaw agape, rendering him speechless as he scrambles to try to find better words that: 

“What-, what the fuck are you doing here?” 

“Shit,” Michael scoffs playfully, with a chuckle, his breath uneven from the light jogging pace he’d kept. Michael takes note of the arm his younger brother’s extended, shielding you from him. “What? Can’t your big brother come surprise ya in the big city?” 

Carmy shoots him a look that says, ‘when have you ever done that’ and Michael nods knowingly, his eyebrows quickly raising, then lowering as he makes peace with the fact that he’s never been that guy. 

“Me and Deb… we came up for the weekend,” Mikey admits with a heavy sigh. “Tried to do something nice for her but, you know, broad’s been a real bitch-.” 

“Mikey,” Carmy warns, taking a tone you recognize—the kind he uses when he’s going to yell at the saucier for a broken mornay. 

“Right,” Mike course corrects at the volume of a mumble, heaving a heavy, yet disarming sigh. 

Carmy nods slowly as he allows some part of him to relax, his arm falling away from you as the two of you exchange a look. 

“We uh…. Got into another fight. She’s on her way back to Chicago now,” Mikey explains, the disappointment evident in his voice this time, almost as if it were an apology. 

“Sorry,” Carmy mutters quietly, as you exchange a look with him. 

“Nah it’s-, she’ll get over it,” Mikey brushes off with a shrug, his tone shifting as he extens an arm out to you.

“Fuck, where are my manners? I never properly introduced myself earlier. I’m Mikey. Mikey Berzatto,” he grins with a charm and confidence that’s been absent in both of your interactions with him till now. The smile that spreads across his face is contagious as he looks from you to Carmy, then back to you. “Shit. I’m sorry. ‘M fuckin’ jagoff, interupting your night like this. I should probably get-.” 

“No!” you protest, almost too quickly, earning a look from Carmy. “We weren’t-, we were just getting off work and were gonna grab a bite. Maybe even… a drink?” you suggest, a hopefulness in your eyes as you turn towards Carmy. 

“Yeah?” Michael asks, his interest piqued. 

“Uhm. Just gonna grab a bite actually,” Carmy forces out, sending a glare in your direction. 

“You know what’s crazy? I know a spot. With food. And drinks,” you challenge him, silently begging him to just go with it. 

“You cool with that, Carm?” Mike asks this time, looking from you to his younger brother once more. It’s the first time that Carmy thinks Michael’s ever looked to him for approval. 

Carmy’s quiet for a moment, torn between wanting to burn it all down or declare a gleeful ‘yes’ because at least Mikey wants to spend time with him. 

“Um. Uh. Yeah. Yeah okay,” Carmy finally agrees. 

“Alright, let’s fuckin’ do it!” Mikey rallies. 

And as he turns to go, your voice instructing him that it’s only a few blocks from here, you and Carmy fall into stride, just a few steps behind Mikey. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” Carmy threatens you—though there’s no weight to it—through gritted teeth. 

You shove him playfully, bumping your shoulder against his side as the two of you walk, answering with a promise that: “You’ll thank me later.” 

—---------------------------------------

You sit on one side of Carmy, Mikey on the other, and you can see why Carmy looks at his older brother like he hung the sun, the moon, and the stars above. There’s something different about Michael—something different than when you met him just hours ago outside of the restaurant—as he corrals the three of you into a round of shots. 

As the shots of tequila arrive at the bar, Carmy dismisses his, his attention fixed to the still-full whiskey on the rocks he’d ordered earlier, just to appease his older brother. He watches you carefully as you and Mikey clink glasses before throwing back your own respective shots. 

“Carm?” Mikey asks, nodding towards the third, untouched shot glass. 

Carmy hesitates. 

“It’s fine. I’ll take his,” you jump in, half as an attempt to give Carmy the out he so desperately desires, and half because, admittedly, meeting the great Mikey Berzatto makes you a little nervous.

Before anyone can protest, you reach out, picking up the shot glass, before tapping it down against the bar top, fearlessly throwing it back. Michael watches you with a sense of amusement, as your face crinkles in response to the sting of the liquor and the bitterness of the lime you chase it with. 

He smirks, sharing a knowing look with his younger brother that says, “I like this girl,” which in turn only causes Carmy to blush. Before Mikey can say anything more, the song that blares through the speakers changes, earning his attention as he hears the familiar words:

“I see the bad moon a-risin' I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightnin' I see bad times today”

“Alright, alright. Think it’s a little too on the nose if I admit that I love this song? On Halloween? C’maaaaaahn,” Mikey asks, almost as if it’s a confession in reference to the easily recognizable Creedance Clearwater revival hit. 

“No! No, I love this song,” you’re quick to assuage his hesitation as your eyes light up in response to his recognition. 

“You got good taste, kid,” Michael notes confidently, winking in his brother’s direction. “I like this girl, Carm.”

Only this time, he says it out loud. Carmy only shakes his head, the blush already running across his cheeks taking a deeper shade of red. 

“Yeah, yeah. Uh. You both uh.. Like music,” Carmy smiles, gesturing from you to his brother. At least this is going a lot better than he expected it to, he reminds himself. 

“Oh yeah?” Michael asks, clearly intrigued. 

“Oh that’s right!” you exclaim, simultaneously. The excitement that brews within you has you stumbling over your words as you manage to get out:

“You’re-, oh my god! The Lennon jacket!” 

“What?” Mike asks, shooting you a funny look. 

“I’m sorry. I just-. I realize I’m not-,” you stammer over your words, trying your best to explain your earlier exclamation over your own excitement. 

“You gave Carmy the denim jacket – the 1950s selvedge Wrangler!” 

“Just like the-,” Michael starts, the two of you finishing his sentence at once with: 

“... just like the one John Lennon had!” 

“Marry this girl, Carm. Marry her right now. Tonight! Or I will,” Michael encourages, slapping his hand down against the bar. He speaks with so much bravado and conviction that you can only imagine that there was none left for Carmy. “Fuckin’ christ. I never should’ve let you two meet,” Carmy groans on an exasperated exhale as he shakes his head once again. 

“Oh c’mon, Carm,” Mikey rouses him, with a playful eye roll. 

“It’s totally my favorite jacket of his! I-, well, it’s a long story but we actually became friends over the jacket because he spilled a drink on me and-,”

“Ahhh real smooth.” 

“No! No, it was okay, I promise. I-, I don’t know if we would’ve gotten to know each other if he hadn’t so-. Call it a lucky jacket, I guess,” you smile, stealing a look in Carmy’s direction. He shoots the smallest smile back to you, cognizant of the fact that Mikey’s observing the entire interaction. 

As you begin to tell Michael the story about the aforementioned Lennon jacket, it could be minutes, hours, or days that pass, once you and Mikey finish trading facts about music like they’re trivia cards. It’s almost as entertaining as watching Mikey and Carmy go at it, bouncing facts about the history of denim like you’re at the French Open. 

You excuse yourself to the restrooms—partially because you really have to pee and partially because it seems like this evening is going well—wanting to give both brothers some time alone. And as soon as you’re out of earshot, Mikey’s on Carmy like an FBI Investigation. 

“This your girl, Carm, or what?" he asks with a casualness to his voice that sets off alarms in Carmy’s head. 

"Mikey, stop it,” Carmy dismisses him, hoping more than anything for this to be the end of the conversation. 

Instead, Mikey scoffs, shaking his head as he downs another shot. 

"Then at least tell me you're hittin' that." 

“Michael!" Carmy hushes his brother, a warning and protectiveness in his voice this time. 

"Are you fuckin' serious right now, Bear?” Michael pushes further. “What, you're telling me you're not when she’s walkin’ around in your jacket, talkin’ about wearing your clothes to your big brother and I’m supposed to think-?" 

"She's not!” Carmy cuts him off. “She doesn’t do-, she’s.... my friend. Jus’ give it up alright.” 

"Shit. Wish I had a friend like that. Ya friends, kid, or are ya... you know... friends?" Mikey smirks, earning a venomous glare from his younger brother. 

Carmy shakes his head in response, jaw clenched, as he stares down at the bar top, a feeling inside of him that he doesn’t like when he even thinks about Mikey looking at you like that. 

"Shit, I thought I taught you better than that, Bear." 

There it is again.

That feeling. 

He’s not sure how to name it, but it’s enough to make Carmy want to deck his brother right then and there as it rises inside of him. 

"I'm serious, Mike. We’re just friends,” Carmy spits out. He’s much more serious this time. “Cut it out." 

But Michael’s too quick, his voice growing louder as he interjects on the tail end of Carmy’s insistence.

"Oh come on! The chick's smokin' fuckin' hot. And I can tell that you like her. I'm not blind, Carm. I see the way you-."

And if it’s as if something snaps inside of Carmy as he exclaims: 

"Don't talk to me like you know what's going on in my life! Fuck!" 

"Carm-." 

"Can't even pick up the damn phone and then you just... waltz into town acting like everything is okay?!” he fumes, standing up out of his chair. 

His face grows redder with each word, and it only confirms Mikey’s suspicions: that his little brother is absolutely a goner for you. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Carmy like this and he’s torn between feeling proud of his kid brother or pissed that the kid’s turning this around on him. 

"Well, if you ever bothered to come home. You know mom's been askin' about you since you never fuckin’-,” Mikey roars, eager to relinquish the hotseat here.

“Oh don't bring mom into this!" Carmy protests.

It’s your voice that snaps him out of it—brings him back to earth as he hears you ask:

“Everything okay?” 

Carmy can practically hear his heart pounding away in his ears; can feel the blood rushing through his head as he takes a deep breath. He swallows, takes a beat, then turns to you. 

“Yeah uh. I think we should go,” he states, his voice uneven and tense as you try to get a read on either brother. 

“Uh… yeah, I guess we can-, um,” you stammer out, wondering how things went from good to hell in a matter of minutes. Carmy mutters something about getting your stuff as you try your best to put the pieces together. 

“It was uh, nice to meet you, Mikey,” you say softly, as soon as you get your coat on. 

“Yeah. You too, sweetheart,” he nods, something distant in his voice. Carmen scoffs at his brother’s usage of the word before tugging on your arm. 

You wait a beat, in anticipation of some kind of goodbye between the brothers, but there is none as you follow Carmy out of the bar. 

—---------------------------------------

Halloween, again — in this lifetime:

When Carmy comes to, he can hear the faint sounds of an episode of Pasta Grannies in the background, uncertain of what time it is. 

“Hey, you. You fell asleep on the couch and I didn’t have the heart to wake you up,” you say, as he begins to sit up. Carmy blinks his eyes a few more times, watching as you make your way from the kitchen island over to the couch, taking a seat at his feet. 

“Did you still want to watch a scary movie? You know, in the spirit of the holiday?” you ask him with a soft chuckle. 

All Carmy can remember before falling asleep was what he was thinking about: what it would be like if you had met Mikey. It’s something he thinks of often, especially as the two of you grow closer—as your relationship gets more serious—and it’s something he hates that he’ll never be able to give to you. 

“This was his favorite holiday,” Carmy manages to get out, the sleep heavy in his voice. 

You’re not all that surprised. Carmy’s been on edge lately and you assumed it was because Mikey’s birthday’s coming up. But this… this makes sense too. 

“I wish I could’ve met him,” you smile, reaching out for one of his hands. 

Carmy nods. 

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah. Think he would’ve loved you.” 

Maybe a little too much, he thinks to himself. 

“You think so?” you ask with a vulnerability and a desire for reassurance that catches Carmy off guard. 

He nods with much more confidence this time, offering you a soft, sympathetic smile.  

“Yeah, sweetheart. I know so.”

[jpitha]

Mercenaries

In the end, it wasn't about what the humans could do that the other sapient groups could not, it was about what the humans were willing to do.

The Gren war was a war of conquest. They had decided that they needed more room.

All of the races of the Coalition had similar environmental needs - the fact that they could live and work together was why there was a Coalition at all. The humans lived at one end of the habitable scale - higher gravity, more varied and intense weather, seasons - while the Sefigans lived at the other. The Gren occupied a space somewhat in the middle. Their word was less dense than the worlds the Humans preferred, and while they did have seasons, they were much less intense. Dex, their homeworld was older, and lighter than Earth.

The Sefigans on the other hand, evolved to thrive practically on a paradise. They had no seasons, their biomes were laughably similar, their days and nights were always exactly the same length. Outside of a few bands near the equator they didn't even have rain. Most humans that visited their world were put off by the sameness of every day. Human ambassadorial rotation was the shortest of the Coalition sapient groups - it was that maddening for them.

Seeing a ripe opportunity, the Gren launched a lightning attack two (earth) years after the humans joined the Coalition. Their large Warfinders would flash to Sefigan colony worlds, enter low orbit and demand surrender. If no surrender was forthcoming, they would bombard one or two cities and then land and take the rest with an invasion until they local authorities surrendered or were eliminated.

The human governments had decided to remain neutral. They were still the new sapient in the Coalition and didn't want to jeopardize their membership by taking the 'wrong' side. But that didn't mean that no humans fought...

****

Olivia, the leader of the group, sat down in the small Sefigan built chair - it was half again too small for her frame. It reminded her of sitting in the chairs in her niece's school. It was tough to have bravado and swagger when trying to contort into a tiny chair, but Olivia did her best.

"Commander Olivia, I still do not understand your offer." The Sefigan administrator said. The Sefigans were a small, furry species. They reminded the humans of something they called a 'teddy bear', though teddy bears did not tend to have 4 centimeter retractable claws.

"It's simple really, Administrator Wollruf. For a reasonable fee, my mercenaries and I will fight on your side. We will bring our equipment, experience and skill and fight the Gren in your name." Olivia tried to lean back, but the front legs of the chair tipped up and she swung her arms wildly to keep her balance. With a thud, the legs slammed back down and she smiled sheepishly.

Administrator Wollruf leaned forward. His office was well appointed, but small. and the humans that Commander Olivia had brought with her tended to loom. He was fascinated by the offer though. "You'll fight, for pay? Like a job?"

Olivia shrugged. "It is a job. Like any other. Some people build ships, others grow food. Me and my Obliterators?" She gestured to the two men behind her who grinned, showing their teeth "We fight."

"Why?"

"Why not? We're good at it, we like it, and it's an opportunity."

Administrator Wollruf's ears twitched and his fur rippled. "Opportunity? For what?"

Olivia smiled and spread her arms welcomingly. "For money. We - me and my team - would very much like to be rich, Administrator Wollruf. Hire us, and you will be safe, and we will be paid; half up front, half after the Gren leave."

"I will consult with the rest of Colonial Administration. We will give you our answer in one solar cycle." He stood. "Thank you for your offer, it is... interesting."

"We will wait one solar cycle for your answer, but-" she held up a finger. "Only one. We have other colonies to visit. If you do not wish to avail yourself of our services, there are other Sefigan colonies that might." Olivia and her two guards turned and left.

One half solar cycle later, the Obliterators were pinged. Administrator Wollruf's colonial government was willing to hire them to protect their colony. The next half cycle was spent negotiating the pay, and the deposit was given.

Not one twocycle later, a Gren Warfinder flashed into the system. As before, they took up station in low orbit, and demanded the surrender of the colony.

However, this time, before the Sefigan colony was forced to reply, Olivia's Obliterators flashed in. Their main ship was a former Imperial Dreadnought - older but well maintained - and was more than a match for the Warfinder. They engaged in pitched battle, and the Obliterators were able to drive off the Warfinder.

Two more Warfinders came within the next three cycles, and each time, the Obliterators drove them off. The Gren hadn't really anticipated any opposition from the Sefigans, let alone the humans, so they barely came prepared to fight. The Obliterators received their payment from the grateful colonial authorities, left a beacon stating that this system was under their protection, and flashed away to the next Sefigan colony for another payday.

The Gren had submitted a formal complaint to the Coalition stating that the humans were illegally 'interfering' in their war. The humans replied back that the Obliterators and any other mercenary groups were not affiliated with the government, and were purely independent operators. When the Gren asked where they got their equipment, the humans shrugged and pointed out that it was not illegal to sell mothballed and surplus equipment.

To their credit, it only took the Gren half a solar year to reach out and see if any human mercenary groups were willing to work for them.

Multiple groups replied back that they were happy to engage in negotiations... for the right price.

[bamsara]

I’m a little confused, who is Arson? Did you name your computer that or the program or something like that? Been trying to piece stuff together with all the posts about Arson but I feel a little lost. Like it’s an inside joke that I wasn’t there for the development of it

Rip I forgot new followers are not Aware of Arson

Arson is my laptop. Specifically a laptop sona I made for my laptop because of the sheer amount of trouble I've had with him. Twitch chat started shipping an 'enemies to lovers' between me and my laptop and it was giving me such a hard time during a livestream that it turned into a full fledged oc.

He's a gaming laptop I got in 2018 and had saved up for and while he's very good, his technical service life was only for 3 years and it's been about 5 and a half years since I've had him because I didn't want to replace him.

This means for the last two years he's been progressivly getting worse; starting with the battery going out completely, and then it getting discontinued so I couldn't replace it, the laptop started lagging hard, which I just kinda delt with. Then he's bluescreening a lot, and my files are getting corrupted and disappear. He cannot detatch from the wall so he's not a laptop anymore but really just a desktop now anyway. His model is discontinued so I cant get parts to replace him or have him repaired.

It's a running joke that 99% of all streaming problems are Arson's fault because for no reason he'll just. Crash and critcal error this and bluescreen that.

He got his name because he overheats really badly, and while gaming laptops are built to withstand that kind of heat, it still does wear and tear over time.

It would have been fine for 2-3 years but it's climbing near to 6 and part of the front is melted and I have to turn stream and art off early sometimes to let him cool down because the keyboard has left burns on my fingers. (Though this only happens when using him intensly, like streaming or gaming or art....which is 90% of what I do. The other being writing and work.) (Also before anyone asks, I regularly clean out the fans and I have a cooling stand beneath him)

Currently the top part of his keyboard is not working anymore and he's missing keys anyway. Part of his casing near the charging port is broken off. I've used his heat to cook tiny cookies while I've played skyrim before

TBH If you just search up Arson on my blog you'll see a whole series of posts about him.

he's my guy......my robot.........

[ornii]

Bitterly Beautiful: Family Ties

Ireland

(Y/n) and Wednesday, a love story as old as time. Winter break had finally reached Nevermore and (Y/n) made a suggestion, to visit Ireland and for his bride to meet his family. Wednesday being the old fashion woman she is, she couldn’t say no.

A massive old ship sailed across the sea, being piloted by not humans but beings that ceased to exist, skeletons. All remains of pirates once plundering the seas for their fill now in service to the Healy name. Wednesday found this most fascinating, her eyes dance along the deck of the ship as she stands with (Y/n), he points to the Captian moving the ship with the wheel.

“You see the Captian and his crew died to a kraken if you could believe it. Tore their ship from the sea to the bottom of the ocean.” He explained, and Wednesday stared at their moving bones, flesh barely visible under the ragged clothes. “Fascinating.. Rigor mortis obviously has set in but their bodies seem to reject the stiffness.”

“Is that all you got from my story?” He replied.

“It’s all that I care to listen to.” She responded. A small laugh came from (Y/n). “I love you too Wednesday.” He steps forward with his cane and she follows. “My family is a bit more.. bombastic than yours.” He started, “So it might be a bit.. uncomfortable at first but they mean well..”

“As long as they don’t touch me, all will be well.” Her response was expected, but not particularly hated either. (Y/n) inhaled and turned around to the front of the ship.

“We’re here, the Rock of Cashel.” Wednesday turned as well, her eyes gazing upon a massive castle of limestone and rock. “It’s.. impressive.” She said, and he stepped up next to her. “Nice Family heirloom which I’ll eventually take over, I can give you the tour when we dock.. but I think my family wants to at least say hello because you recluse yourself.” He replied. Wednesday slightly pouts but goes with it. Docking at the waters near the castle, now more monsters. Oddly short human like people. They carted and carried their bags and belongings into the castle as (Y/n) and Wednesday sit and ride carriage upwards to the castle.

“Leprechauns?” She asked.

“Nope, Puca. Little known monsters here.” He responded, “They can transform into animals, sly little things.” (Y/n) leaned forward and looked in the direction of Wednesday.

“Admittedly, I didn’t expect you to say yes to visiting my family. Especially since it’s in a castle in a completely different continent.” He cracked a smile, but Wednesday kept a calm demeanor. “You handled my family exceptionally well, even with their.. issues. It’s only fair that I do the same for you.” She explained, she could see the gears turning in (Y/n)’s head as she says this, something was hidden under his smile but he kept it.

The duo arrive at the gate of the castle, which slowly opens the heavy wooden doors. The large hefty foyer looks right out of the 13th century. Paintings of battles of gods and men, marble statues of men and women chiseled. Tapestry of the Bloodline in perfect etching detail, all of it truly felt otherworldly.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” He said, Wednesday’s eyes scanned along the walls. “Admittedly it is.. do you have torture chamber as well?”

“That’s…” he started to speak but the sudden boom of footsteps approaching halted his speech, Wednesday and (Y/n) turned to the origin of the sound, the deep dark hallway which was lit barely but the encroaching flames of torches, Wednesday watches as a massive Fomorian titan stormed out of the hall. She took a step back and was prepared to run or fight. She looks to (Y/n) who wasn’t particularly changed by the presence.

“(Y/n) if you couldn’t hear there’s a towering monster before us!” She gripped his wrist and he tilts his head in her direction.

“I know, and it isn’t funny Aunt.” He said, the monster groans and pouts.

“I just wanted to see if the lass was as ice cold as you always said she was.” The monsters voice was booming, but also a feminine tone. Her body began to transform, bones shrinking, skin changing and hair growing, Wednesday was baffled and somehow amazed to watch the human body transform. A burly woman stood before her, hefty red hair and a strong jawline but a porcelain face. Her dress was a deep blue and hefty dress with a wolf fur coat around the neckline.

“Pale little thing isn’t she?” The woman leaned in, her lively emerald green eyes collided with Wednesdays cold and emotionally dead dark black eyes. “She isn’t pale she’s just.. you know.” (Y/n) mumbled, the woman offers a firm handshake, taking Wednesdays had without her say and shaking it strongly, Wednesday was taken aback by her terrifyingly firm grasp but soft skin. “Right, no sunlight.” Wednesday stepped back to avoid being hugged and crushed by the woman. “Wednesday, this is Aunt Dian.” (Y/n) steps in between them.

Wednesday stared at the woman, not able to form an accurate response to what she’s seeing. “Yes.. indeed.” Wednesday replied, and Dian turned around, “Alright! Now to your chambers, and you two won’t be sharing a room. Show her the way.” She eyes (Y/n) who acts as if he isn’t paying attention. The woman casually strolls away as the two head deeper into the castle.

“Why is she so… large?” Wednesday asked, “Genetics, reincarnation tends to have adverse effects on how your body functions and reforms. Dian was the God of Medicine here.” He tilts slightly to Wednesday, “There’s something I want to show you.” He said, “Much more interesting than a bedchamber.”

The two stroll out the hearty woods past the castle to a forest. A few spots of clearing were there but still surrounded thick trees.

“This place was a battle ground, graveyard I believe. Legend says you can hear the wails of the dead at night though the forest trees.”

“Was that legend created by you?” She ask sarcastically. “I mean… for the most part.” He admits, “I appreciate you not trying to kill my aunt when she shook your hand.” He thanks her, and kept walking forward. Wednesday halted in her footsteps and he turned to her direction.

“I’ll admit it took everything in my power to not succumb to death at her touch. It’s not like I could have escaped her iron grip anyway.” Wednesday adds in, (Y/n) shrugs. “Fair point.. but I’m glad you’re getting along with her, my cousins.. might be a bit more than you can handle.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No, a warning, they’re kids they don’t know any better.” He gently took her hand, sensing her unwary gaze. “Something’s bothering you.. what is it?” He leaned in, Wednesday wanted to speak freely but, it felt like her lips were bound by a spell, and couldn’t form the words to speak.

The sudden pick up of wind cut off their moment, feeling the odd force of air current against them. Leaves spiraled and danced around them. “That’s… not good.”

“Are spinning leaves a bad omen?”

“No, but it’s just weird.” His response was calm, but wary. Wednesday looked around as the leaves rested and something caught her eye. “(Y/n).” She spoke, “There’s.. a body.”

“A..Body?” He turned to her direction and took a hearty step, the echo formed a wave to bounce sound off, and he felt it on the ground. The two slowly walked towards it. They came across a corpse on the ground, still and unmoving. “It feels like a woman..” (Y/n) knelt down with Wednesday.

“Black hair, late teens. She seems to have some sharp object in her hand, but her hand is, oddly stiff.. her body doesn’t look too cold to allow rigor mortis to set in.” Wednesday said, “Do you know her?”

“No, the servants aren’t human…” he reached and touched her neck, feeling a faint but warm pulse. “She’s alive… perhaps she’s sleeping.”

“Sleeping in the woods behind a castle?” Wednesday replied. “Well when you put it that way..” (Y/n) mumbled. “I’ll just wake her up.”

“Are you sure? All circumstances point to this ending very poorly for you.” Wednesday points out, “We help people Wednesday.. would be wrong of me to leave her here, plus you’re overthinking.”

(Y/n) gently placed his fingers on her forehead, his middle and pointer finger poking the center of her brow. “Eirich bhon aisling gun chrìoch” he spoke a spell and the woman’s eyes slowly opened. (Y/n) confidently turned to Wednesday. “See not a problem—“

Before (Y/n) could confidently tell his girlfriend, the strange woman moves with blinding speed, the sharp object rammed straight between his fourth and fifth rib. It was so fast (Y/n) didn’t have time to even react before falling back and gripping the blade, Wednesday blinked and the next thing she knew he was on the ground in pain. Rushing to his side she saw the knife and held it. “Calm down.. panicking makes you loose more blood. Relax and take a deep breath.” Wednesday caressed his forehead, and with a swift motion yanks the blade from his chest. (Y/n) quickly put his hand on his wound to slow the bleeding. The mystery woman wasn’t angry or sad, she was stunned at what she did, her glossy eyes looked over to the two and immediate guilt washed over her.

“Holy.. shit. I am so sorry!” She pleads, Wednesday turns to her with nothing but cold dead hatred. “I should fill your eyes with hot coals for what you’ve done.” Wednesday rarely shows emotion, but what she does it’s intense, and nothing is more intense than hate.

“It’s fine.. I’m.. fine..” (Y/n) sits up, “Just need.. to get home.. okay?” He asked Wednesday, she turned to the girl. “If you truly are sorry then you’ll help us.. after that.. we’ll see.” Wednesday began to help (Y/n) up, and the mystery girl did as well and essentially carried the boy back home.

Wednesday finished the last seam of her sewing the wound shut as (Y/n) bared his chest and lifted his arms up in her room. Sitting at a desk and across from each other the partners were silent, (Y/n) with pain and Wednesday with worry. The mysterious girl was leaning against a wall, fiddling with her fingers and obviously embarrassed.

“Again… I am.. so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, isn’t the first time I’ve been stabbed or shot.” (Y/n) shrugs, “just a new scar that my girlfriend finds pretty hot huh?” He tilts his head to Wednesday, who looks away trying to keep her composure.

“Your stab wasn’t deep enough to puncture the heart thankfully, but you knew how to stab in between the ribs and the right place to land a fatal blow, impressive.” She admits. The girl smiled, even if she was fighting back guilt. “Oh uh, thanks.. my mom taught me a lot, honestly I was scared to death I killed you.. my hair allowed went white, it’s.. black so you would have noticed..” she said, which was a major screw up.

(If you knew why, congrats.)

“Why did you say that?” Wednesday said, the girl raised an eyebrow. “Uh.. what do you mean?” She asked dumbfounded. She slowly stood up, grabbing a pair of scissors.

“You pointed out your hair color as if you knew one of us couldn’t see it…” Wednesday pointed out, which made (Y/n) raise his eyebrow, he slowly turns to the direction of the girl.

“She’s right.. I didn’t have my cane and my glasses are pretty normal.. how did you know I was blind?” He said, and a look of utter panic was on her face.

“You knew who we were, and you attacked..” Wednesday took a step closer.

“I’m sure you have some explanation.. right?” (Y/n) also stood up, and the girl sighed and shook her head.

“Dad’s gonna kill me…” she sighed and looked up at them. “Okay… my name, Is Fall Monday Healy.”

(Y/n)’s face twists to confusion. “.. Who?” He asked in disbelief and Fall gave an awkward and sad smile, “I’m from the future… so.. Hi Mom, Hi Dad.” She looks at them. (Y/n) and Wednesday turn to each other, it seems this break has taken a very interesting turn.

[enviedear]

i've been going solo now ⟶ ben solo

description ⌙ when you get a distress signal from your dad and his life-long goon you're quick to try and come to their rescue. only problem? so is ben solo.

pairing ⌙ smuggler!ben solo x f!reader

warnings ⌙ childhood crush/frenemies turned adults with horrible communication skills, reader is the daughter of lando (biologically or not you decide), ben is a jerk, reader is a brat, petty arguments, forced proximity trope, inner conflict all the time, han and lando are just two pals getting into serious issues that their kids have to fix don't mind them (they're just mentioned), most likely incorrect knowledge of the falcon & starship parts, smuggler!ben solo au because that's canon to me, ben calls reader kid (affectionate, kinda), typos probabaly

word count ⌙ 4.1k

— request | masterlist

i just think ben solo is very much solo by future coded and i wanted to write about smuggler!ben and his smug attitude. special thanks to @crucifiedfaerie for letting me gush over this idea constantly in our dms <3

you never had the stomach for killing— the thought of it or the act itself. the notion of ending someone's life has always been abhorrent to you, leaving a sour sensation in your mouth that lingers long after the deed is done. but right now, you sit, filled with a growing and seemingly unstoppable rage that practically demands blood.

"don't even think about jumping into hyperspace, solo!" your voice is loud but erratic.

the black-haired man piloting the ship gives you a side eye, "and waste hours getting there? sure thing, kid."

you grip the co-pilot seat as hard as possible as he sends the absolutely geriatric ship into lightspeed. the force of it sends your head back onto the headrest, and you screw your eyes shut until the motion of the ship stills.

you've been flying with ben solo on the millennium falcon for a day and a half now, and this isn't even the first time you've wanted to kill him.

no, you'd harbored a hatred for ben solo for as long as you could remember. when you were little your father frequently left you in the care of the organa-solo's. any trip too risky for you to follow him on had you spending time on chandrila han and leia— and ben.

he was a few years older than you and so insufferable - spoiled rotten and full of mischief. the two of you would inevitably end up in scuffles over something, whether it be who got to shower first or which holovid show to watch. you often wondered how your father, han, or leia had managed to handle both of you. a hardheaded pair of troublemakers that needed little excuse to start bickering with one another.

but beneath it all, there had been another layer to your complex relationship with ben solo. even though you feigned anger whenever near him, deep down there had been an admiration growing since those early days spent together. your naive heart fluttered when he would absentmindedly flash his ever-present smirk in your direction. but you'd never admit or act upon any such feelings.

naviagting your crush had been difficult at first. especially having lando calrissian as a parent. you were forced to spend weeks around the source of your teen angst because of your father.

what use is a dad that can sweet-talk a jablogian if he can't fix your unwanted crush on his best friend's son.

you've cursed at his image in your mind every time you look at your ridiculous companion. if not for him, you wouldn't be with ben right now— you'd have never had the displeasure of his company.

you got away from the young solo, and most everyone else, for a good five years, hopping from planet to planet, picking up any honest work. which usually meant boring work— factory jobs, service stuff, a few instances of babysitting.

your life without ben solo is predictable and a little boring.

but you'd rather be bored than deal with the recklessness that becomes your life every time you see the smuggler.

but here you sit beside him, forced to spend an unknown amount of days with him until the both of you find your idiotic fathers.

you had gotten a rouge comm-link message from your dad just days ago. he sounded fine, voice still leisurely and warm, but it was his words that were worrisome, "han's got us in a bit of trouble, little star. would you mind coming to help your old man out? we're somewhere in the trilon sector— i'd try batuu first!"

when you got the message, your mind had gone into autopilot. you had rushed to comm leia, which had been a fatal mistake, as she had ordered her son to pick you up and accompany you. so now you're here, stuck with ben solo and his frightening flying.

"you know, dad should have warned me i'd be flying with a coward." ben's lips are curved into a grin, as usual with his teasing.

you whip your head in his direction, eyes ablaze, "well my father should have warned me that you've gotten even more annoying, somehow."

ben narrows his eyes, a stupid smirk still plastered to his face, "whatever you say, kid."

you feel your blood go hot, why he decided to start calling you kid, you didn't know, but you do know you hate it.

ben's barely your senior, only twenty-three years of age in comparison to your twenty. besides he behaves like an out-of-hand teen away.

"stop calling me that." you groan.

ben chuckles, "aw, what's the matter, kid? tired of following orders already?"

you grit your teeth, the way he talks down to you will forever get under your skin, "i don't take orders from you, solo."

"sure you do. you're on my ship, remember?" ben retorts, his eyes focused on the coordinates displayed to his left.

you cross your arms over your chest, "we're supposed to be working together to find han and my father and get them out of trouble, not bickering like children."

ben rolls his eyes, "it's not my fault you're so uptight."

you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. you can't afford to lose your temper and start a fight, not when you're relying on him to get you to your destination safely. so, you force a smile, "look, can we just be civil? we're both here because we care about our dads and want to help them."

ben's expression softens a little, "fine. but if you start nagging at me again, i can't promise i won't call you kid."

you roll your eyes, "deal. now, can you tell me more about what's going on? my dad was pretty vague in his message."

ben hums, "same with mine. all i know is that lando got mixed up in some kind of shady deal, and now he's in trouble with a gang of criminals called the ninth sun. my mom's been trying to negotiate with them, but they're not ones to bend the knee."

you groan, "of course not. what's the plan?"

he shakes a stray black strand of hair from his eye, "no plan, just find them and go from there."

"lovely, that's totally going to work," you bite your lip, "oh and, it was han who made the sketch deal, not my dad."

ben shrugs, "and who told you that?" he rests his elbow on the armrest and brings his hand to his chin, "lando?"

you clench your fists, "let's just focus on finding them. no need to dwell on the semantics."

ben glances at you and for a moment, you swear there's a flicker of something in his eyes. something other than his usual teasing, mischievous demeanor, but it's gone as quickly as it came and he turns back to the console.

the ship hums steadily beneath you, and the silence between you two stretches on, broken only by the occasional beep from the controls. you fidget in your seat, uncomfortable with the unfamiliar hush. you've never been around ben so long without saying anything, and you're about to speak up before he interrupts you.

"we'll have to make a pit stop, i need to refuel." his voice sounds tired.

you nod, "alright. any nearby planets we can stop at?"

ben checks the navicomputer, "yeah, there's one a couple of light years away. i've been there before, it's not too bad."

"okay solo, lead the way." you say, leaning back in your seat.

as he pilots the ship toward the destination, you can't help but study him from the corner of your eye. he's changed since the last time you saw him. the boy who used to pull your hair and steal your toys has grown into a man. he's lean and toned with longer hair, still as sable black as ever. it falls into his eyes, despite how much he wills it not to, giving him a slightly disheveled look that you can't help but find attractive.

you rue the thoughts plaguing your own mind.

the embarrassment you used to feel over your crush has come back ten-fold. the feeling shocks you. he's trying to act all suave and mature, but you know deep down that he's still the same old ben who annoyed the life out of you. you can feel the familiar tug in your heart every time he speaks, and you know he can't have changed much over the years. not when he's making you feel just like you're fourteen again.

but there is something different about him now. maybe it's the way he pilots the ship with ease– no longer the boy who'd cover his ears ar take off, or maybe it's just the way his muscles flex under his tight-fitting shirt. he's almost mesmerizing.

it's clear that he's been doing this for a long time, navigating the stars all alone with nothing but his shitty attitude and perfect hair. you find yourself marveling over him, sure and smooth, his hands deftly moving over the controls.

ever the realist, you try to shake off the feeling, but it's proving difficult. you feel a strange urge to preserve your current addiction.

as you watch him fly, you feel a fixation building within you. it's a sentiment you haven't felt in years, not felt since the last time you saw him.

you try to push the feeling down, knowing that it's not the time to have those kinds of thoughts. you're supposed to be focused on finding your fathers and not getting killed by some lethal syndicate, not lusting after your childhood nemesis.

you feel wrong stealing glances at him, trying to understand what's changed and why you're feeling this way. you're towing a dangerous, line. especially if those feelings are inspired by ben organa-solo.

finally, after what feels like hours, you arrive at the refueling station. as soon as ben lands the ship, you stretch your legs inside the falcon, looking out at the new scenery. the planet is bathed in the evening light, and the scene around you is wide awake. the station itself is a bustling hub of activity, with all kinds of alien species milling about.

ben leads the way to the fueling station, where he begins filling up the ship's tanks. you stand by the ship's entrance, people-watching. your eyes find ben's figure again, and you let them stall. when he looks your way, you advert your gaze and step out of the falcon, swiftly approaching him.

the evening air is cool as it hits your skin. this planet is a strange one, with vibrant purple plants and thick, white fog swirling around. but you don't pay too much attention to it, your eyes are locked on ben.

he's leaning against the ship, checking over the fuel meter with a frown on his face. you walk over to him and clear your throat, expecting to get his attention.

he looks up at you, eyes meeting your own. you feel your heart skip a beat, and you curse yourself for being soft for him.

"you know, you didn't have to follow me out here." he mumbles, hand coming to brush the hair from his eyes.

you hum, "i didn't have anything better to do."

he ignores you and looks back at the fuel gauge, his eyebrows furrow, "i found something for you to do." his voice is monotone, but you're all too familiar with the subtle cut of annoyance within.

"what does that mean?" you own voice comes out a bit too anxious.

ben groans before looking at you, "one of the damn tanks has a leak— i told chewie to fix that weeks ago." he follows up his words with a few curses before kicking the faulty gas tank.

you roll your eyes, "can't we just get another one? i'm sure if we go inside someone would know where we could get another one."

"the problem isn't finding one," he tsks at you, "the problem is that this tank has been leaking fuel into the beacon finder. without that, we're never finding our dear old dads."

your heart sinks. you had been so sure that you would find your dad quickly, but now it looks like that might not be the case. "so, what do you suggest we do?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

"i'll have to fix the beacon," he sighs, "luckily i have the tools for it, but i need to find one more part, and with the sun setting soon…" he trails off, letting his silence complete the sentence for him.

you take in a deep breath at his implication. you can tell what he is suggesting without explicitly stating it.

you will be stuck on this planet with him tonight and forced to share the same cramped room. you thank god for separate cots, at least.

you try to ignore the warmth creeping up your ears, but you know that it's a losing battle. you haven't shared a room with ben solo since you were kids, endless unwilling sleepovers at each other's houses. but those instances were filled with innocent pranks and arguments, not the tension and longing glances you've found yourself giving him.

"alright," you say, trying to keep your voice even, "we'll just get the part and fix the beacon. the faster we fix this, the faster we can find our fathers and get back to our lives." you move towards the entrance of the fueling station, wanting to put space between you and ben.

"you mean so you can get back to your life." he calls out to you, and you look back at him only to be met with contempt in his brown eyes, "the one where you avoid me."

you give him a sharp eye roll before making your way toward a small gaggle of vendors, much more interested in finding this part. ben follows closely behind you, and you can feel the weight of his stare on the back of your head.

you're at a loss as to why ben solo would ever care that you've been avoiding him for the last five years. the ben you remember would've never batted an eye. when did that change?

you find a vendor selling the part that ben needs, and you both split the payment before heading back to the falcon. ben sets to work on the beacon, and you sit nearby, supposedly looking over the coordinates but mostly watching him work.

there's an abnormal sense of calm that fills you as you watch him. concentration is etched on his face, lips bitten bright red. you can't help but admire him, not for the sake of not trying.

you're brought back to reality when he starts cursing under his breath, "what's wrong?" you ask, moving closer to him.

"this damn thing won't budge," he grunts, trying to pry apart two pieces of the beacon.

you move to his side, peering down at the device. his breath is hot on your cheek, and you feel an urge to shiver. trying to focus on the task at hand you take a few breaths.

your eyes keep drifting to his lips, the way they move when he curses. you shake your head, trying to clear the inappropriate thoughts from your mind. "let me help," you offer, reaching for one of the tools he's using.

he hands it to you, and you lean in closer, your sides pressed together as you work the tool. you can feel his heat exuding into you, a warmth that isn't just from the planet's humid air. you try to focus, but it's becoming increasingly difficult. every time he moves, you catch a whiff of his scent, musky and rich, and your mind starts to wander to places it shouldn't.

finally, after what feels like an eternity, the piece pops free, and ben lets out a sigh of relief. he turns to you, a small smile on his face, and you can't help but smile back. his eyes lock onto yours, and suddenly, the air between you is charged with something foreign.

you let your tone come out sardonic, "looks like i saved the day. you're welcome, solo."

ben tilts his head, eyes narrowing, "you're a brat, kid."

"i thought i told you to stop calling me that." you want to hit him.

"i said i had a condition," he pauses, arms coming to either side of you, palms pressing into the falcon's floor, effectively trapping you against him, "a condition you just broke. so you're back to kid, kid."

you feel your resolve slipping, "you're the worst. you always have been, and i can see now that will never change."

he has the audacity to let out an amused breath, "if you're going to say shit like that, at least mean it."

your brows furrow, "pardon me? as if i don't mean that."

his hands creep from the ground and to your hips, you gasp as he pulls you in closer. if he were anyone else, you'd expect him to kiss you next, but he's not anyone else. so instead, he cranes down and whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "i know you want me," he growls, his fingers digging into your clothed flesh. "don't act like you don't,"

you're completely caught off guard, and before you can respond, he's pulling away from you and grabbing the beacon. you watch in silent horror as he makes for the falcon's exit, leaving you confused on the floor.

you sit there, rooted to the spot, your mind and body in turmoil. you know if you follow him you'd just be throwing yourself into a petty or embarrassing altercation.

what did he mean by that anyway? how could he possibly know?

taking a steadying breath, you turn away from your seat and make for the other side of the ship. you need to keep yourself busy until nighttime, and you know that there's some maintenance to do on one of the storage bays. when you get there, however, it's already been taken care of. your fists clench in frustration as you realize ben must have done it earlier.

you start searching around the ship for any other tasks that might help keep your mind off things and pass the time more quickly- checking cords, tidying up shelves or going through supplies lists so nothing gets low.

the hours seem to stretch on endlessly despite how much work you manage to do, and all too soon darkness begins to fill the sky outside of the cockpit windows. with a heavy sigh, you head back towards where you and ben had been working earlier. he's back now, tinkering away with the beacon as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you earlier— as if his words hadn't sent a tremble down your spine and confused the emotions tumbling through your mind.

you catch an expectant glance from him when he finally notices your presence. you're sure he's expecting you to say something to him. maybe he wants you to yell.

you don't say anything though, instead offering only a terse nod before checking the endless cords around you.

your fingers move quickly and expertly over the tangled cords, your mind too preoccupied to focus on anything else. but you can feel his gaze on you, burning through the back of your skull like a branding iron. his presence is suffocating and you know that if you don't get a handle on your emotions soon, you'll combust.

eventually, you're so lost in thought that you almost miss the soft footfalls approaching you. you turn to see ben standing beside you, his eyes locked onto yours. the air between you is thick with strain, unspoken words, and feelings. there are so many things you want to say to him, but you don't know where to begin.

"so," his voice breaks through the silence like a blaster shot. "when are we going to talk about it?"

you hear the depth in his baritone voice and it's all you can do to keep your face neutral, your thoughts collected, "talk about what?" you ask, even though you know perfectly well what he's referring to.

"about me and you," he says, voice low but insistent, "or we can just keep ignoring it. the tension seems to be getting us pretty far."

your expression shifts as you take in his words, the longing that had been coiled in so tightly before now coming to the surface. you can feel yourself flustering under the intensity of his watch but you refuse to look away, instead lifting your chin higher and narrowing your eyes.

"there is no us, solo," you say firmly, though your voice is riddled with a hint of something else entirely, "there never has been, and never will be."

ben seems unfazed by your words, his eyes steady and intense. "you say that," he says, his voice softening. "but i know you better than anyone else. and i know there's some part of you that actually likes me. i bet it pisses you off, doesn't it?"

he's right— it does piss you off that your heart can't seem to let him go. no matter how annoying you find him, he's beautiful and confident. and he does know you better than anyone. he knows what buttons to press and how hard. with ben, there's always the thrill of how perceptive he is— that he can see through the walls of anger and indifference you try so hard to build up around yourself.

you can feel your will crumbling under his words, your heart throbbing in your chest, but still, you push back, "even if there is something there, solo," you say, your voice shaking slightly, "it doesn't change anything. we're two different people living two very different lives."

ben smirks, "you don't know anything about my life."

you let your eyes roll, "as if the life you lead is some kind of mystery," you take a deep breath, "i mean, what's to know? you fly alone, smuggle, and rack up credits. that's your life, solo."

he hums, right hand finding a home beside your head on the wall, "you know me so well, kid. you should write a book."

you feel inexplicably hot, "maybe i will. a long book of all the reasons you piss me off."

he doesn't respond, just looks down at you for an uncomfortable amount of time. he pushes himself from the wall and you, twisting and letting his back hit the durasteel wall. his face is turned to you, eyes downcast.

"you know," he says finally, breaking the silence, "i remember when we were kids, it was always you who used to be the one to instigate. you probably don't remember it that way, but i do, and i loved it. you never hesitated. you were fearless."

you look at him incredulously, wondering what this has to do with anything. but he continues, "you were the only girl that would play with me, and not just that, the only one that could beat me. but then one day you just stopped. you ignored me completely."

you stiffen, unwilling to admit even through body language that he might be right. a pre-teen you found avoiding your ben sized crush the most viable option. you just never thought he'd care.

he continues, eyes unwavering from yours, "you used to look at me like i was the only person that mattered. and then, you just stopped. it's was like… like you had something to hide."

it's like he can read your mind because he reaches out and grasps your wrist in his hand. his touch is nice against your skin, sending a comfortable feel through your veins.

"i miss you, the girl who wasn't afraid of liking me," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "and i want you to admit that you miss me too."

you struggle to find words, to make sense of everything inside of you, but before you can speak, his lips are on yours. his kiss is hot and demanding, and instinctively lean into him, body melting against his in perfect harmony. his hands slide around your waist and hold you close as the kiss deepens, and you can feel all of the frustrations of the past slipping away. when he finally pulls back, his eyes are bright with emotion and a hint of a smile graces his lips.

he looks down at you for a moment before speaking in a low voice, "you want me to do that again?" he steps closer to you and cups your face in his hands, his eyes twinkling with amusement. you can feel the warmth radiating from his body and if it weren't for his strong arms around you, you would have melted into a puddle.

you nod slowly in agreement, too lost in the moment to say anything else. he leans down and brushes his lips against your cheek before pulling away completely, "then be honest. right here, right now. you like me."

you screw your eyes shut, basking in the shame of being found out, "i like you, solo. i like you a lot, but if you don't get off your pedestal and kiss me again i'll withdraw the opportunity."

he gazes down at you with an expression that's tender yet mischievous all at once. "i like you too," he whispers before chuckling lightly, you open your eyes to see.

his dimples are on full display, and for a second, he's the spirit of the little brat you fell in love with all those years ago. "c'mere, kid." his voice is soft as he pulls you back into him, lips meeting yours.

[bonniebird]

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Requested by Anon

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Request: Anonymous asked: Hey B! Can I please get an Aemond Targ imagines. Aemond has a crush on a highborn lady that lives in the keep or in kingslanding but his cousin from essos arrives and starts stealing her attention from him. Aemond x fem reader plz. Jodie Cormer and Viserys dany's brother for the face claims please.

You watched quietly from one of the landings of the large castle halls as everyone rushed around. Nobody seemed to notice you today. It wasn’t strange for highborn lords or ladies to look at you as if they had no idea why you were standing near them. Ordinarily, if you passed the king you would curtsey, perfectly, and he would smile and nod to you, sometimes asking how Helena was. You would answer most loyaly, a staunch defender of all Helena did. 

But today no one stopped to greet you or ask after the princess. It felt strange that no one wanted to hear what you had to say about Helena. That was, after all, why you were there. Your father had set his ambition upon residing in the Red Keep at the king's service. But having achieved his goal, he found that he wanted to return home. Your mother, who hated Kings Landing, had been more than happy to leave. But you had managed to befriend the princess. She was a few years older than you but you were both quieter and gentler than those that typically lived in the city. The pair of you had started a shy friendship and soon, finding yourself invited to her side at every occasion you found yourself following her around during feasts and dances. 

The two of you became so attached that she threw a fit when you left with your family. So much so that gold cloaks were sent to fetch you from the Kingsroad as your family began their return home. Helena had greeted you at the gates of the keep as if you had just returned from war and it was quickly agreed that you would be taken under the care of House Hightower and stay at the keep with Helena. 

Footsteps behind you and rushed talking broke you out of your thoughts. Blinking a few times you turned and found the Queen whispering to one of her maids, gesturing for them to leave her. 

“What is happening?” You asked as she approached. The cold sternness on the queen's face left as she looked at you and smiled, reaching for you. She wrapped arms with you and the two of you walked the halls together.

“The king has relatives from Essos arriving. He is… beginning to worry the keep is not grand enough.” She sighed in a tone of voice that made it clear Alicent thought the fuss was ridiculous.

“But… He is the king. Why should he care what someone else thinks?” You asked and she scoffed and smiled.

“Exactly what I said. According to my father, there has always been some sort of contest between the king and his… cousin… uncle. I think his cousin. Though with these Targaryen marrying customs…” Before she could finish she trailed off. The two of you had walked towards the entrance of the keep where a group of people were hanging Targaryen banners. Aemond was walking towards the two of you, dragging Aegon behind him so quickly that Aegon’s feet skittered over the smooth floor as he helplessly tried to find his footing.

“There you are!” Alicent said as she dropped your arm and went over to greet them.

“Why do I have to be here? I hate him.” Aegon grumbled. He gave you an uncomfortable grin which fell from his face when Alicent scolded him, pulling him away towards his rooms. No doubt hoping to sober him up before the ship from Essos arrived.

“Who is it that everyone is so upset about?” You asked Aemond. He had taken a moment to answer a question for one of Alicent’s maids. Nodding to her she scurried away as he turned to you.

“My cousin's father.” Aemond said stiffly. While Aemond turned away to instruct a group of men, carrying a statue on which was the correct corridor to take, you went over all the Targaryen’s you could name and tried to figure out just which relative it could be. Finding the list too complicated to keep track of, you nodded slowly and fell into step with Aemond as he began to walk down the long corridor away from the stairs. 

“We are to greet them at the docks this afternoon.” You muttered as you recalled Helena informing you of the trip to the docks over breakfast. Aemond grumbled to himself and he sighed.

“I had hoped he would come by himself. He’s bringing his son. The eldest one.” Aemond said as he stopped at a window and glared out towards the sea.

“You do not get along?” You asked. Aemond sighed and said nothing as a boat came into view in the distance. A maid called you away before you could talk anymore and ushered you to Helena’s rooms. Alicent entered a few moments later with dresses for both of you. Helena’s was a light grey velvet with pale green adornments stitched over the back, down the sleeves and around the neckline in a style that the princess favoured. Your own was similar though less grand than the princesses. Once Aliencet had approved of you both the three of you trekked through the halls to a small carriage. 

“Why he could not dock at the private docks…” Alicent grumbled to herself as she wafted herself with a green hand fan. Helena reached for your hand and squeezed it encouragingly.

The carriage ride was short however the three of you were left in the carriage while it was secured and the heat began to build. When the door finally opened the breeze was bracing. Cole helped Helena and the queen out, walking away and leaving Aemond to quickly hurry over and help you down the step out of the carriage. 

“This must be your young wife!” You heard a loud booming voice over the crowd that had gathered to see the king and the visitor. Looming over the crowd you could see a huge ship, larger than even the ships Lord Corlys would travel in.

When Helena became nervous and looked for you to link arms with someone tugged you forward and away from Aemond who had managed to hide the both of you from sight behind three lords each taller and wider than the last.

“I hope we can leave soon.” Helena whispered to you as her arm twisted with yours and she clutched your hand.

“With such a grand feast prepared I can not imagine we will be here long.” You said quietly as you turned away from the procession that passed. One of the white-haired young men stopped and looked at you both. Helena groaned under her breath as he began to come closer. Her grip on your arm tightened and she looked at him with such a stern expression it was a wonder he had the courage to come closer.

“Cousin.” He drawled out sweetly. Helena said nothing but bowed her head slightly in a jerked nod. His eyes flicked to you and then he did a double take as he smiled. “You… you are new.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord.” You said quietly and dropped a little in a small curtsy. Helena’s grip on your arm refused to loosen and when you rose again you could see several of Cole’s men over the boy's shoulder. They looked rather worried.

“I wish to get out of this heat.” Alicent’s voice called out over the crowd. Helena took this as an opportunity to yank you backwards as she moved towards the carriage. You crashed into Aemond who kept you steady. He gave you a look that you imagined was an attempt at encouragement before seeming to realise he was still holding you by your shoulders and letting you go so that Helena could continue her retreat.

“Ridiculous performance.” Alicent complained as she joined the two of you in the carriage. Cole slammed the door shut and shouted for the queen’s guard to escort the carriage back to the keep. She looked over at the both of you and reached across the carriage to touch your forehead. “We shall be resting today. I do not care what that beast of a man wants. We’ve been out in this heat too long.”

******************

It quickly became obvious why everyone was on edge about the Targaryen’s for Essos. The father, Maehagor Targaryen, was a foul man, rude, lude and greedy. He seemed to be in constant competition with the king, so much so that Daemon was sent for at the request of Viserys who, to you had always seemed rather gentle and kind, had lost his temper one evening due to Maehagor’s comments about bedding Alicent. Daemon responded with a letter refusing to appear until Maehagor returned to Essos. Alicent refused to be alone with him due to his constant remarks towards her and she barely tolerated him during group dinners.

Luckily you didn't have to put up with Maehagor. You did however have to deal with his son, Daelon. At first, he had seemed rather charming and you didn’t mind helping entertain him as he joined you and Helena for walks in the Keep gardens or warm afternoons lazed in the cool shade. But once Aegon and Aemond joined the group things changed rather quickly. It seemed that Daelon took after his father in more than just looks. He out drank Aegon and antagonised Aemond so that they argued every time they saw each other. 

 It was early evening and everyone had reached their limits with the guests. Helena had retreated to her rooms claiming that she needed to rest. The queen had vanished into her rooms as well leaving you with little to do. 

“Aemond?” You asked gently as you found him. He was sitting alone in the courtyard looking up at the Weirwood tree. He glanced towards you and, upon seeing it was you, made little effort to move on the bench he occupied.

“I needed a moment's peace.” He muttered. You walked closer and sat, forcing him to scoot over on the seat.

“Why does your father not send them home? Everyone is so unhappy.” You asked and he huffed. There was a tense pause before Aemond answered bitterly.

“My father does not think enough of me to share such decisions.” He stood and then stopped as someone walked to the entrance of the courtyard. Daelon spread his arms wide as he sauntered over to the two of you.

“Cousin… Are you joining us for the meal this evening.” Daelon immediately turned his attention from Aemond to you. You felt Aemond step closer and his stare fixed on Daelon who seemed unphased.

“I… have been invited by her grace, the queen.” You said hesitantly. He smiled and reached out, squeezing your face between his fingers. You winced and tried to pull away but his grip squeezed until Aemond intervened. 

“You know perhaps I shall ask my father to have the king give you to me. You will like Essos.” He grinned as he let Aemond pull his hand from your face, turned on his heels and left as quickly as he arrived. You stared after him and blinked a few times.

“Are you alright?” Aemond asked without looking at you. Aemond had always been rather kind to you so it surprised you when you found yourself unable to find words without letting out a small sob and nodding instead. He looked worried as you turned and fled to find Helena.

Dinner quickly approached. Despite her best efforts and objections, Helena couldn’t stop you from being herded down to the dining hall. “Mother! Grandfather! What he said was upsetting, you cannot expect (Y/N) to join us!” She whined, having given up on all else but their sheer devotion to her.

“Helena I am sorry…” Alicent started. Finding nothing new from her mother Helena whipped her attention solely to her grandfather who seemed rather startled by the girl's ferocity, gentle and nurturing as it was, it was still quite the challenge.

“I have tried to have (Y/N) sit between you and Aemond or next to your mother. I can make no promises though.” Otto admitted. This for the moment placated Helena. She took up your hand and clutched it tightly as everyone filed into the room. You felt the Queen’s nervous grip on your shoulder as she squeezed before letting you go as she moved to be greeted, taking her seat beside the king. Helena rushed you all to your seats, which was met with no objection from Aegon as he liked to be bearishly drunk before even setting eyes on Daelon. Seeing silvery hair from the corner of your eye as you sat beside Helena you turned with a smile to thank Aemond for coming to your rescue in the courtyard only to find Daelon. He had slouched down into Aemond’s seat seconds before Aemond couldsit. Judging from the clutch Otto had on Aemond’s wrist and the way he pulled Aemond’s hand from the back of the chair, Otto had prevented Aemond from tipping Daelon onto the floor.

“We meet again.” Daelon said. His voice was smooth and charming though it had a tone to it that made you tingle unpleasantly. Making you feel rather like a rabbit who had just realised its companion was a wolf. Your smile became so strange and twisted that even the king glanced at you with a frown. You found that even with your best effort. You could not improve the grimace on your face.

Having spent a long time as Helena’s most adored guest at the Red Keep you had endured a great many awkward dinners. Though the Targaryen house enjoyed celebrating their triumphs, you were never actually sure if any of them liked each other. This dinner, however, made all of the ones before seem like casual, even joyous occasions.

It began with everyone sitting. After Daelon has stolen Aemond’s seat Otto guided Aemond to sit opposite his mother, he then took up a place at the end of the table leaving a large space beside Aegon on the other side of the king intended for Maehagor. 

Maehagor, in a moment of great wisdom or madness, decided to squeeze on the corner of the table between Otto and the queen instead.

There were three courses to the meal. During the first Maehagor called Otto an old fool and said that it was his turn to be the hand which was met with a round of awkward laughter. During the second round, the queen accidentally stabbed Maehagor’s leg with her fork when he scooted his chair too close for her liking. At the same time Helena, having been helpfully passing you sauce in a hot serving dish, dropped it on Daelon’s lap which caused him to let go of your hand, which he had taken up and refused to let go of, despite a polite request from you and a rather rude comment from Aegon, hop up from his chair and shout before hurrying out of the room. The final course was never actually served. In fact, the maid that brought it to the table was sent right around the room and back out like an animal on a race track. The poor woman seemed rather glad to flee the room. You were all excused by Alicent who was trying to mediate a fight between the king and Maehagor who began shouting at each other so loudly that Cole had to come in and escort Maehagor out. 

Having had enough for the evening you slowly made your way to your rooms. The air in the corridors was cool, a light breeze followed you through the halls. The faint sounds of the last birds settling for the night filled the air and you found yourself smiling as you dawdled to enjoy the moment a little while longer. You stopped when you heard low talking. Leaning closer towards the corridor that opened up into a balcony, overlooking one of the courtyards you listened carefully after glancing around to make sure no one would catch you.

“I won't let you.” Aemond’s voice came out sharp and clear.

“Let me. Your father will do anything for us to return to Essos.” You cringed at the sound of Daelon’s voice. Aemond scoffed and there was some shuffling. Curiously you crept round the corner and peaked down into the courtyard. You could see Aemond stepping closer to Daelon in a threatening manner.

“Why not find yourself some girl in Flea Bottom?” Aemond’s tone was harsh as if he were holding himself back. You couldn’t see Daelon’s face but you could see his shoulders move as he laughed.

“You see it is not the girl I want. It’s revenge. The moment I set eyes on the two of you I could see it. So I'm going to steal her away from you.” Daelon’s words were sharp and spat out at Aemond who was stirred to anger before you could wonder who they were talking about. Daelon flinched as Aemond swung at him and Cole rushed across the courtyard. 

“You will do no such thing!” Aemond shouted as he escaped Cole to dive for Daelon who had laughed as he practically danced his way out of Aemond’s reach. 

“I’ll take all the girls I want. That (Y/N). A fine treat for myself when I return to Essos.” Daelon said wickedly. You felt panic prick you and for a moment you froze.

Had you been foolish enough to believe that your friendship with Helena, that your mother’s friendship with the queen would protect you from the desires of the dragons? Cole glanced up at you as you jumped back to avoid being seen. You weren’t sure if he saw you or if he stopped Aemond from swinging again. You had already turned to flee as your mind swam with fear. The king wouldn’t really send you to Essos. Not when he went to such great lengths to negotiate with your family to have you stay. But he was the king. Had your father led when he said he’d negotiated? Had the king demanded your presence and it was given? If so… would you be able to find a way to avoid being sent off?

The fear of your own thoughts had your breath angrily clawing at your throat as a painful tight feeling built up. Hurrying past the door to your rooms you continued to Helena’s.

When you reached her rooms you burst in and flung yourself down on one of her bench seats. 

She fussed while you tearfully tried to explain what was said. Alicent was fetched by one of the maids who, unable to decipher your sobbed distress, were convinced something dreadful must have happened. You faintly heard Cole’s voice as the tear-blurred figure of Alicent hurried towards you, hugging you tightly to her chest as you blubbed and sniffed.

“Mother? What happened.” Helena asked after a few moments when she realised that you were too upset to find words that could give her any sense of what you’d gone through.

“From what Cole has explained to me… Daelon has threatened to take (Y/N) back to Essos with him.” Alicent explained which started you crying again. Helena gasped and clung to you. Alicent had warned you both during the carriage ride home of what she heard Daelon did to his women in Essos. All were dreadful, so much so that Alicent had only informed you of the list of tragic and terrible summing everything else up with a simple warning. 

When she had managed to calm and settle you Alicent stormed from the rooms. She made her way to the King’s quarters, knowing Viserys and her father were still in a deep discussion on what to do if Maehagor decided to stay in Westeros. She threw the doors open, startling everyone who looked overly nervous. When she saw Aemond she understood why.

“Alicent.” Otto said as he gestured to Aemond. His tone was pleading.

“That is not sufficient!” Aemond bellowed and for a moment she feared that the boy might strike his own father. Alicent raised an eyebrow and stepped forward.

“Aemond. Calm yourself.” She cooed but she shook her off. His breath was hard and heavy, his hair tangled and messy. There was a smudge of blood running down from his nose and a wild look in his eye.

“No! He has admitted what he plans to do! (Y/N) has served our house well. Does that not earn her protection from being sold off to stop someone annoying you?” Aemond barked out. He glared at his father who looked as if he himself thought Aemond might lash out. Viserys eventually held his hands up.

“If she agrees then…” Viserys said and glanced at Otto. Alicent scoffed and shook her head as she gripped Aemond’s arm, pulling him back so she could take a turn to unleash her own fury.

“Agrees? She weeps in your daughter's arms for fear of being shipped off across the seas to some dreadful monstrous boy because of a petty rivalry that the two of you have with your kin.” Alicent glared at Viserys and then at Aemond whose expression softened.

“What would you have me do?” Viserys asked as if he was at his wit's end. Alicent sighed. She had told Viserys several times what he needed to do.

“Summon them! You know how he feels about Daemon. Demand his presence and Rhaenys’ too. She will keep him in line. We all know Maehagor is afraid of her.” Alicent was stern as she spoke and Otto did his best to agree with her. He had suggested something similar days ago as had most of the council. “You are the king and you let this man come here and torment your keep.” With that Alicent left, storming from the room with a fury that seemed more ferocious than the fire Viserys was sat before. Aemond hesitated and followed her.

“Mother.” He muttered as he hurried to catch up with her.

“You will need to defend her.” Alicent said as she stopped. She had her back to Aemond and he stopped a few paces behind her, hesitant to approach.

“(Y/N)... I…” Aemond started to say but she turned, gripping him by the shoulders.

“Maehagor is the kind of man who will do anything. You know he has been trying to interfere with your father's rule since it began. He is so shameless he had no choice but to retreat to Essos. His son is worse. (Y/N) is strong and brave. But she is gentle-hearted and sheltered. I swore to her mother I would take care of her. Seven help me if that beast of a man takes her.” Alicent spoke in a harsh tone he hadn’t heard for many years. She was almost as furious as she had been the night he lost his eye. It made his stomach turn with nerves.

“Daelon. He said he wants revenge.” Aemond said nervously. She frowned at him and let him go. For a moment, just one, there was a glint of fury in her eyes as if she were accusing him of a great many wrongs. All the ills man had caused her, Helena and you were thrust at him with that look and he withered under the glare.

“Revenge for what?” She asked.

“There… there was a tourney. The one I was in after Rhaenyra left Kingslanding. The one for Aegon’s name day.” He muttered and stared down at the floor. She said nothing and even without looking up he could feel her anger burning into him. “I ignored Cole’s advice to let Daelon win and… humiliated him.”

“A tourney… I have sworn to defend that girl as if she is my own and she may be snatched from our protection because of a tourney contest between boys!” Alicent’s tone was sharp and Aemond shrank back as if he had been struck. She said nothing more to him, her dress storming around her, whipping the fabric into a furious sea of soft swishing sounds as she furiously walked away. 

Alicent’s fury remained. So much so that when Daemon and Rhaenyra arrived with their brood of wildlings they had given Aemond sympathetic looks and mildly friendly gestures when they greeted the travellers. 

You had been summoned to dinner by the king. He had sent Otto himself to invite you along with his word as king that you would be safe. When you walked down the hall two bluish figures seemed to float out of the semi-dark corridors around you and fell into step on either side of you. 

The Velaryon twins. Stony guards at your side that didn’t budge and were so stern in their defence even Daelon kept his distance. Jace hurried forward to help you to your seat and he sat on one side with Baela and Luke sat with Rhaena on the other. Rhaenyra sat with Alicent talking quietly while Daemon watched Maehagor from across the table with a neutral look that made him all the more menacing. Rhaenys sat beside the king while the rest of the family scattered around the table. Helena was opposite you and gave you a hopeful smile. You returned one to her and she beamed in relief.

“Thank you.” You said quietly into the air before you. Baela reached over and gently squeezed your arm for just a moment before reaching for her cup while Rhaena smiled to herself and nodded. The meal was consumed with awkward silence. Broken only by murmurs between Otto and Corlys at one end of the table and Rhaenyra and Alicent at the other.

When the meal was finished Daemon loudly dismissed ‘the youngsters’. No one objected though Maehagor clearly wanted to. Luke and Jace rushed to sweep up Daelon in conversation and stopped his approach as Helena joined her Velaryon cousins in hurrying from the room with you.

“I am sorry you were so upset.” Helena said to you as you stopped by her door. She kissed your cheek and hugged you tightly.

“It is alright Helena. It wasn’t your doing. I am grateful for…” You trailed off and smiled awkwardly. You weren’t as close with the twins as you were with Helena and you weren’t sure if thanking them for their aid would offend them. After all, they seemed like the sort to think defending anyone from the likes of Daelon was part of their duty. Baela, sensing your dilemma cleared her throat before saying.

“Well, Daelon is a beast, more so than Aegon and all who come across him deserve protection of their own.” She spat out Daelon’s name as if it disgusted her to say it. Rhaena shyly agreed with her sister and said their goodbyes to Helena who hurried off into her room to see her children to bed. Aemond approached you shortly after. Baela and Rhaena waited to see if you wanted to speak with him before relinquishing your safety to him.

“I hope you find good rest.” Rhaena said cheerfully to you while Baela and Aemond stared at each other until Rhaena pulled her sister away.

“I am sorry.” Aemond said awkwardly. You frowned then sighed.

“That your cousin is a beast?” You asked and he chuckled then, quickly, looked rather guilty. He shuffled and fiddled mindlessly with the dragon fastings on his shirt. He walked with you down the corridor, the short distance from Helena’s door to yours.

“He would not be so fixated on you if it were not for me.” He stopped outside your door and gave you a rather shameful look. 

“Your mother said why he was doing this. Because of the tourney. She was very angry about it but mostly because of Daelon.” You explained and he winced. You reached out for his hand but he pulled away slightly. “It is not your fault he can not let that go.”

“That is one reason he is interested.” He said quietly and his hands dropped down by his side. You waited, wanting him to go on and explain but Aemond’s mouth was firmly shut and he simply gestured to your door. Realising that for tonight at least there would be nothing more from Aemond you retreated to your rooms. 

“Oh sweet (Y/N)! I am so in love with you that my cousin plans to kidnap you in vengeance for a childhood slight.” Aegon sang out loudly as your door shut and cackled as Aemond turned on him and wrestled him away from your door, his hand over his brother’s mouth as Aegon continued.

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Kinktober Special Part 8

Mo’s Kinktober Special 

The Crew’s Whore (Part 8) (+18)

!!!!!!MINORS DNI!!!!

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your powerful fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great skill. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

WC: 2600 lol

TWs: IT’S FOOT TIME! FOOT FETISH WARNING! Man I am not even into feet but this kinda did it for me. In my brain Law is canonically into feet in a weird way. Unprotected sex, p in v sex, table sex, alcohol consuption, toe sucking lmao, just fetish shit yeah.

——

The trip to the next island was turning out to be longer than anticipated due to poor weather. The Straw Hat pirates had allied themselves with now-warlord-of-the-sea Captain Trafalgar Law and were harboring him on their ship as they sailed towards the next part of their plan as an alliance. The weather had finally turned pleasant so of course Luffy ordered Sanji to prepare a huge feast, complete with piles of steaming food and barrels of cold booze. 

Eating and drinking were two of you favorite activities, second and third only to fucking, so you were thrilled at the prospect of a little party. No one had approached you yet and asked you for your time tonight, everyone being so busy setting up for the party and all… but you expected that to change as the night went on. Because you anticipated being taken for your services tonight, you took the time to bathe and clean yourself up a little extra nice. 

You curled your hair into soft waves and spent half an hour caking your face and painting your lips a glossy sheer crimson before heading to your closet and picked out an outfit. You settled on a flouncy little baby pink dress, the layered fabric sheer and light. The soft pink hem swished high up on your thighs, leaving very little of your legs to the imagination. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you decide to play it up even further and crouched down to grab a pair of red high heels from under your bed. You slipped on the pumps and with a final twirl in the mirror headed out to the party. 

The deck of the ship was buzzing with the sounds of your crew mates enjoying themselves. Brook was serenading the party with a jaunty tune to which Chopper and Nami were dancing, Luffy was busying himself with the sumptuous spread Sanji prepared, all while Zoro was ahead of the game and drinking himself into oblivion. Law was seated at the same table as Zoro, seemingly having much less of a nice time. The mysterious doctor was hunched over and stared emotionless into his drink, puffy brim of his hat shielding most of his face. 

You noticed your friend Robin leaning up against the back wall of the Sunny with a glass of red wine in hand and bit of a scowl on her face. 

“You don’t look pleased with the festivities.” 

“See that target they put up at the end of the ship?” Robin nods behind you. 

You turn and do indeed see a large target placed near the head of the Sunny. 

“Yeah?” You inquire. 

“Usopp and Franky keep having shooting contests. Franky keeps losing but he won’t give up. I don’t think they’ve sat down all night, and his face is as red as a tomato. Kind of embarrassing…” Robin giggles a little. 

“Are you surprised? I guess they’ll be out of our hair for the rest of the night then.” You laugh.

“That’s my point.” Robin rolls her eyes. Your brows raise in realization. 

“Ohhhh… you were trying to get laid! I get it now! Well no one’s approached me if you’re still up for it later…” You wink.  

“Thank you sweet y/n, always so thoughtful!” Robin sips her wine. “I’ll see if I can find you later if I’m still feeling up for it. Go get a drink and enjoy the party, dear!” Robin waves you on to the kitchen. 

You enter the galley and are immediately met with a very sweaty, stressed out Sanji. 

“Hi handsome.” You purr as you approach the blonde at the stove. 

“Oh, hello my love. I’m afraid the voracious appetite of our captain has rendered me incapacitated for the rest of the evening, the fucking glutton…” Sanji sighs. 

“Aww, my poor, tired, love cook.” You coo as you push his bangs out of his eyes. You place a kiss on his cheek. A droplet of blood escapes Sanji’s left nostril. “Well I’ll leave you to it then.” You grab a bottle of cold wine from the fridge and a glass from the shelf and carry them both out to the deck with you. 

You stroll over to the table where Law and Zoro were seated, now joined by Luffy whose cheeks were stuffed to bursting with various meats and cheeses. 

“You gentlemen mind if I sit with you?” You ask while already sitting down across from Law. 

“Not at all, pretty thing. Come have a drink with us.” Zoro smirks at you, holding his hand out to take the wine bottle from you. You oblige and he unsheathes a single blade to pop the cork off for you in dramatic fashion. 

“My hero.” You chide as the swordsman fills your glass to the brim. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me drunk, Mr. Roronoa.” 

“And what if I am? You say the filthiest shit after you’ve had a whole bottle of wine and it’s fucking incredible.” Zoro shoots you a hungry look as he downs another cup of sake. Luffy giggles. Law straightens up and gives Zoro a confused look. 

“Not much of a talker, are you, Trafalgar?” You turn your attention to Law. 

“I didn’t know the two of you were a couple.” He states blankly. 

“We’re not. I’m seeing everyone.” You smirk across the table at the foreign captain. He looks even more confused. “It’s what I do. I love making my crew mates happy, you can understand that, can’t you?”

Without time to answer, Luffy interjects. 

“Haha you should give her a try, Traffy! She’s really something hehe!” 

Law’s eyes widen. 

“Yeah why not, Tra-Guy? You’re already here eating our food and drinking our booze, why not sample some of the other amenities we have here on the Sunny.” Zoro chuckles as he pours himself another cup of liquor. Zoro must be quite fond of Law, as sharing you is never something he likes to bring up. 

“I’m sorry… are you offering me… her? Shouldn’t she be doing that?” Law looks a bit offended. 

“Would that make you feel better? My services apply to guests of the Straw Hat pirates as well, and I assure you I can meet whatever needs you may have.” You swirl you wine in the glass and take a long sip. 

“Um… No.. that’s.. that’s quite alright, thank you.” Law stutters out his refusal. 

“You don’t know what you’re turning down, man. Whatever you’re into, and I mean whatever, she can do it. Sweetest pussy in the Grand Line.” Zoro leans back in his chair. 

“Zoro! Don’t be so vulgar around our guest.” You scold the swordsman. 

“Whatever, his loss.” Zoro shrugs and slams another drink. 

— — 

After hours upon hours of dancing and drinking, the party had thinned out quite a bit. Now that things were winding down, you notice the painful ache in your feet from wearing high heels all night. Most everyone had headed to bed and you were considering doing the same until you spy your unfinished bottle of wine on the table with Law still dated at it, alone now. 

You sit down across from Law and take a swig from the bottle directly, your glass having been lost several dances ago. 

“Classy.” Law remarks from across the table. 

“Never said that was part of my resume.” You smirk and take another swallow of alcohol. You pull your feet up into your lap and groan. “God this is the last fucking time I wear these heels.” 

You slip off one of your shoes and behind massaging the heel of your foot with both hands. You pause your ministrations to grab another sip of wine when you notice Law’s eyes on you. They weren’t on your breasts close to spilling out of your low cut dress, or your plush thighs squishing against the wood of the bench you were sitting on… they were on your foot in your lap. 

There it is.

Ideas filled your head on how to finally break this stoic stranger. 

“You’re a doctor, right?” You ask innocently. 

“Huh?” Law responds, having been snapped out of what seemed like a trance. “Um, yeah.” 

“Could you maybe feel right here? I think it could be swollen.” You extend your nearly naked leg across from you and push the table to the side so that there was nothing between the two of you. 

“It..i-it doesn’t look swollen… but if you really want I could… I could take a closer look…” He hesitantly up at you before returning his gaze to your perfectly pedicured foot. 

“I’d love that. Thank you.” 

Law gingerly takes your foot in both hands and presses firmly into where you were pointing. You squirm a bit, feet incredibly sore from dancing all night. Law starts to rub up and down from your toes to your heel, intently examining every inch. You couldn’t help but notice how his mouth was now parted and his breathing quickened as he stroked your foot. 

He stopped abruptly and released your foot from his hold. 

“I-it seems fine. You should be fine.” 

You drop your foot directly into his lap and push it firmly against the crotch of Law’s jeans. 

“Are you sure, doctor? I think you should check again.” You flash him a devious smile as you take another swig from the bottle. 

“W-what are you doing, y/n?” Law sputters out, sweat forming on his temples. You feel his cock begin to stir under the sole of your foot. 

“You know, Traffy, we could have a lot of fun together…” You push harder against his erection with your foot. 

Law winces but he doesn’t respond. 

“Y-yeah?” He manages to pant out. 

You begin to slowly stroke your foot over his denim clad member, feeling it from base to tip, hot and aching to be freed. 

“Mhmm… Why don’t you take him out so we can play? You’re so hard Traffy, must hurt… We’re the only ones left out here, no need to be shy anymore…” You giggle. 

Law sucks in a breath before eventually undoing his belt and jeans buttons. His cock springs up as he pulls it out his pants and briefs, laying rigid against his abdomen. 

“Wow… you have such a pretty cock, Traffy…” You coo at him as you slip your left shoe off your foot and allow it to join your other foot in his lap. 

“D-don’t call me that…” Law whispers out. 

“Sorry…” You begin rubbing both of your feet up and down Law’s now exposed length. He watches your movements in awe as his mouth hangs farther open than before. “You’re just so cute I can’t help but tease you…” 

Law pays your words no mind as he is mesmerized by the sight of your pretty little feet stroking his cock. Soft pants leave his lips as you continue working him over. 

“You wanna cum like this, or do you wanna fuck me, Law?” You ask as you slide the ball of your right foot over his leaking tip. 

Without responding verbally, Law grunts and leans forward to pick you up by your waist and lay you down roughly on the table you had scooted out of the way earlier. He rips his shirt over his head, keeping his hat in place. He wastes no time and flips up your frilly pink dress to expose your panties that had grown wet from merely giving a powerful man a foot job. 

“I’m not waiting-“ Law says as he pushes your panties to the side and slides the head of his cock from your hole to your clit and back again, coating himself in your wetness. He pushes himself inside of you quickly, causing you to moan and arch your back. After a few experimental thrusts, Law picks up a quick pace and rams his hips into yours, curved cock hitting all the right places inside of you. 

“Oh, fuck, Law that’s so oh-!” Your eyes snap open at the foreign feeling only to see Law standing between your legs with the outside few toes of your right foot in his mouth. Eyes slammed shut, he doesn’t falter in his thrusts as he savors the taste of your skin on his tongue. He uses one hand to rub at your clit as he caresses your ankle with the other. 

“Dirty boy…” You coo up at him as you rake your nails down his abdomen. “You like sucking on my toes, you filthy boy?”

“Mmmm” Law manages to groan out as he peppers wet, sloppy kisses to the sole of your foot now, making sure every inch gets his attention. 

“Make me cum and I’ll let you blow all over them.” You demand as you wrap your other leg around his waist and pull him closer. 

“Fuck… swordsman wasn’t kidding…” Law grunts out as he picks up the pace of his hips, plowing into you with an ungodly force. He untangles your legs from his body and pushes them up to your chest, allowing himself the perfect angle to heighten your pleasure. 

With hands under the crooks of your knees, Law brings you tumbling over the edge of your high and you cried out his name to the starry sky above you as your orgasm overtakes you. With your cunt still pulsing, Law pulls his aching, throbbing cock begging for release from your tight hole and begins stroking it in front of you. 

Law grabs both your ankles in one hand and proceeds to blow rope after rope of hot white spend all over your delicate, pink painted toes. 

Breathing heavily still, Law takes a few moments to admire his handiwork. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You quip from your exposed state on the table. 

Law shoves himself back into his pants and puts his shirt back on. He surprisingly takes the time to gently put your panties back into place and pull your dress down before helping you off the table. 

“You aren’t.. going to tell anyone about this… right?” He asks, hiding his eyes again with the brim of his hat. 

“About what? You liking feet?” You smirk. 

“Y-yeah…” 

“You’re secret is safe with me, Traffy.” You say with a wink. 

xx

*A/N ........ sorry :)*

[sea-of-dust]

Alva,Frederick,Edgar,Demi x Rock Vo. GN! Reader

Compared to the way you dress they would have never guessed you knew your way around a ballroom

N: I'm gonna keep thinking of acheron and black swans dances final frame. Also Frederick's new skin, that thing has a grip on me,poppin party,Céline Dion,Mustard service references

Warnings: mentions of drinking, might be ooc

Ugh, you and luca being friends is one thing, him noticing the hunter and saying "ez sweep" is another. Luca would tell you what to do against him you'd do it, he'd get pissed you two would do it everytime you see em. Strangely enough is that you've never seen Alva before and when you asked who the fabled "tall coat guy" luca would answer "litterally a tall coat guy"

As soon as you did see him however you knew why luca didn't want you to ever meet him. His cold gaze, the scar near his eye, the elegance he radiates. "Are you single?" "Excuse me?" Luca would know instantly if you met him when you come back like a children's cartoon protagonist that's just been kissed by their crush. "Wow..." he was mortified.

Luca does get a bit werided out when he thinks too much about you crushing on his teacher, that dosent stop him from giving you heads up tho. "There's a public map" you stop tuning your neck nearly snapping to see him "where? Can I perform? Is the tall coat guy gonna be there?" "Dunno" "I'll take it" So the most delulu person on earth (you/j) decided to perform under the deck of the ship, not paying much mind as you played songs you thought he'd like, trying not to make direct eye contact with this seemingly uninterested man, too focused on his conversation with the clerk. You thought maybe he had tuned you out after the first few chords, until the next match with him where he hummed. A humming a little too similar to the lyrics you sang. While kiting him you could barely believe your ears, you had to have Demi fact check you.

A few more performances and a chair was all it took for him to begin to speak to you. "That voice of yours is wonderful" your eyes widen, looking up at him quickly, he smirks, reminiscing on the concert. "I'm normally not the type to like rock. I'm glad you're an acception" you froze, you could have sworn he could hear you internally scream or atleast see you blush as much as you did

He isn't very social but you've gotten the treat of seeing him smile, and not terror shock you as much. "You've gotten soft" "have I now?" In truth you went from being able to kite at least 3 ciphers to 2.5, he doesn't terror shock you but he makes up for it in actual shocks. Atleast he's friendly enough to show you where the dungeon is before poking you with the staff. There would also be the occasional soft look in his eyes eventually making a bit more physical contact with you. "You're so pretty" you re-wrap his bandages causally mummbling that out, he retracted his hand quickly. "Did I tie something too tight?" "No" you hold out your hand for his arm. "Do you really think im pretty" your eyes widen "I didn't think you heard me but yea, the way your eyes pierce into people is attractive" you blush embrassed you're rambling this much "atleast in my opinion" he looks away before placing his arm into your hand to continue wrapping, you continue on nervously wrapping them. He'd look at them later on in the match, thinking about what you said, it's too distracting for him to just not hear "you're pretty" over and over

He'd ask you out pretty awkwardly, because it would be straight to the point. "I love you, please consider me as a partner" "." He'd stand there like a brick and you would be to, out of pure shock your brain would have just exploded by then. "Sure-" brainfart of an answer, biggest regret of your life. Thank god he didn't seem to mind.

He likes comming out of his office just to see you out there practicing, you'd hear his foot steps and greet him with a smirk. "You've been in there for 15 hours I can't feel my hands" "I'm sure you're fine" "they feel like white noise" "so you feel them" "no" closing his eyes he'd listen to your careful fingers press on strings and strum, whenever he opened his eyes he always looked love struck so you try to block out his face from your mind, but the more you try to shut it out the more clear it gets. You had to stop looking at him when you practice

He'd notice if you've overused your voice during a match. Coughing, trying to relieve strain, pinching the front of your neck. He'd stop you mid kite and tell you about ways to relieve it. "Hopefully you like tea and honey." "?" "For your throat" "oh" he kisses your forehead. "I'll prepare some after this. Go decode for now" you'd have a higher chance of failing ciphers after that, Luca had to supervise. "He's so pretty..." "decode for him" easiest way to get you to lock in and to shut up about Alva

The only pet peeve he has with you is when you're both in a match and a survivor would say something along the lines of "I don't know how to get around this hunter" and you and luca would respond simultaneously "ez sweep" so he started finding loop holes, such as winking at you during kites, flirting with you if he found you first leaving the cipher bare, and just going after Luca first. He was no longer "ez sweep" to you two anymore, you had to tell a new survivor to "follow their gut!" For a while

He didn't care much for your rumors about being an aristocrat, if anything they're an afterthought, and an explanation on why you're able to causally name plants, and almost never use your hands when eating you'd eat fruits with a fork or a toothpick. This did come into play when you asked him to dance. Surely nothing it could be fine? He barely remembers how to do ballroom dance, so you went easy on him. It felt like a roller coaster. You could be able to tell he was embrassed everytime he almost stepped on your feet, the quick turns he wasn't ready for you'd catch his eyes widen. Somehow able to dip someone as tall as him you catch an exhausted smile on his face. "I should do this more often with you" he scoffs "maybe another time"

Ugh, as a musician he respects you knowing your talents after attending a show you did in the lobby, or just hearing it blast a few times but knowing your background you're gonna have to go the extra mile to even get him to associate with you. A person dressed like some local turning out to be an aristocrat, and their family respects that? Ridiculous you must be lying

He'd warm up to you slowly, he was annoyed he could hear you practice? Take these headphones. Then he couldn't hear the piano? Alright you'll change the time you do practice. He'd hate to admit it but when overwhelmed He'd purposely look for you while practicing, chaotic riffs like the ones you play would usually overwhelm him, but there's a difference when you practice, you're humming the lyrics softly while playing watered downed versions of certain bits, sometimes pleasing soft riffs. It's therapeutic, won't let you catch him listening though

That changes when you begin to date him. Now he's in the same room! "Im gonna pratice one i dont think youd like much" "I'm sure I can enjoy it regardless" you hum uncertainly hesitantly placing your fingers where they need to go, and begin to play, the melodies seeming uncertain of themselves as if shy. "With all the times I made mistakes infront of you I never expected you to be so considerate it hurts your performance" he sits closer to you "I'll be alright, play as you see fit regardless of me being in audience" "alright..." You play a bit hesitantly in the beginning, but pretty quickly you practice as usual, you sigh as you complete it. "That was too difficult" "do you want me to not be here when you practice?" You're not very sure how to answer that

He'd enter your room at night. "I know you're awake" "WOAH" you jolt back squinting your eyes to try and get a better look at him. "Why are you here at this hour?" "I got scared" "Sure bud" you embrace him, letting stiff arms return the favor. In truth he was kept awake by the thoughts of things couples usually do, sleeping in the same bed being one of them, imagining you there just wasn't going to cut it for him, to have you near him, to trust him enough to sleep in the same room as him let alone close to his chest, he felt at ease. You would wake up to his grip firmly around you or from him carassing your cheek or playing with your hair.

It feels werid when you two aren't in manor games together, you're like eatchothers lucky charms, he can't really handle if you're in too many games without him in a row. "I gotta get back soon Frederick might sleep on the piano again" Demi raises an eyebrow "he what?" "what if he stares so hard at my guitar it ends up full of sorrow" Demi's heard it all, she's heard of him evaporating, laying on couches, playing piano then sighing pausing and continuing to play a more loudly and harshly (according to Luca) "he thinks about alota things at once you know"

He does feel a bit strange when it comes to physical affection. Hugs and small kisses did feel a icky, when you do show him physical affection you'd try to keep it to a minimum accolading this, he judges you for that. Playing with his hair and stopping he looks up at you with narrowed eyes "what?" "Keep going" he grumbles. He'd start turning around to judge you if you dared to remove your hands from him. Sometimes even initiating, which would confuse and fluster the heck out of you. He does have his limits don't push them and he'll be fine.

He'd invite you to practice with him sometimes. It would always fluster the hell outta you but barely for him. "Are you sure?" You look around a bit frantically "I'm sure" "I'll get my gutair then" as soon as you sit down with him it usually goes with him beginning to play, you joining in after seeming to get the gist, you realize there was sheet music the entire time for you, say that you're "built diffrent" for just knowing what to play automatically "I'm just built like that" "Uh huh..." he disregards it, he knows you forget about the sheet music most of the time. Atleast he doesn't stay there for hours away from most people, that much anymore, now he spends atleast half of that practice session with you.

So to punish you for almost always never paying attention, he decided to make a song, no surprise he'd already think of making you a song, this was just an excuse for if you ever asked him why. "Do you mind if we practice again today" "you can't get enough of me can you" teasing him, you go with him hearing the unfamiliar song he began to play, you get behind him and begin to read the sheet music. "This one has alot of emotion to it" you continue to listen, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I think I got this" letting go of him, you play along with the emotional tone of the song. Test magically passed

You'd tease him with some song choices, letting him recognize the songs he wrote played on your gutair, or singing a lyric he just can't pass over for some reason "you haven't found everything you've been searching. Find it with me then we'll lose it and find it again" he blushes you could tell he was thinking too much on it. he turned away closing his eyes as you continued on singing, was your voice always this hypnotizing? Why are these chords so flustering now of all times? "Please stick to rock" "this is rock" "oh" you could barely hear that, getting closer to him you whisper in his ear "pleasantries-" "something I say to you, love" "so you know this" he tries to hide his flustered face. "The lyrics are pretty tame I'm surprised a song you've heard for a while now flustered you" you hug him kissing his cheek. You look foward to his reaction whenever you play songs like that near him, or just him paying too much attention to the lyrics and drifting into his imagination

Now imagine him finding out those you being an aristocrat rumors were real. You had him thinking you were normal until you ate a grape with a toothpick and knew how to tie his aggressively fancy bows. As soon as a partner dance came along you quite litterally swept him off his feet. A style of partner dance that was unique full of dramatic turns it almost felt like you were just dragging him along a bit, a weightless, graceful dance that would have been unexpected if you weren't accustomed to it. A dip is where you two make eye contact. "Did I tuker you out too much?" You smile uncertainly,him huffing to catch his breath, his mind racing with thoughts. "I'm fine" "would you like to do for another then?" "I'd rather not"

Ugh, pretty loud and he just hears the mumbles, he'll think it's incoherent metal, disrupts painting when you hear a sudden yell no matter how pretty it is

He dosent dislike you personally, after all you gave him your spare ear muffs when he brought this up to you. He becomes a good ally after that, you could go for a rescue and he'd be able to cover you. Those ear muffs come in handy, so handy that hunters try to take them. Unfortunately, you or him are always the first to yank them off or knock It out the hand of the hunter

He would slowly become apart of you Demi and Lucas crew. That one guy in a group that's never there but when he is it makes that day better, he's that guy. It gets so hype over there the hunter would turn their head wondering about the noise. "we got it guys!!" "YEA" "were getting a 4 escape!!" The hunters oprea singer

He'd grow super attached to you after you say something positive about his art. "Youve made this in a day?" "Yea?" "I find that hard to believe, the layering in this, the way they don't just lay ontop of eatchother but blend, not to mention accurate shadows" you take a pause dazed at the fine work. "It's beautiful" he doesn't speak, shocked that you knew the beauty and worth of his art something that most he met didn't understand, he fell for you hard over those comments, exactly why he shows you his pieces more often

You two would start dating rather quickly, you dropping signs the most aggressive way possible, causally holding hands when alone, sharing a cipher and really bad ideas "we should rescue luca" "no" "?" "He told me I should cut my canvas in half so I had four drawings instead of two" "...I mean in concept it's good but it might set ya off" "it already did" "after half then?" "Yea" thankfully Demi swooped in

You do try to sit down and paint with him. It was like a toddler following along a Bob Ross tutorial, but atleast Bob didn't stare at your painting for long periods of time. "Are you familiar with aristocrats?" "Yea?" He narrows his eyes "are you one?" "Are my drawings that bad?" "No these strokes are just ones nobility usually do" "crazy" he knew you were an aristocrat, and one that appreciated his art is even better. "Consider me your biggest fan in the art world" he giggles going back to his piece

He's run out of paintings during a match? Suddenly this isn't a match it's a rock show. "Find something in the item boxes nearby I'll distract them for you" distract them the loudest way possible how did you even bring an amp to a match?! "Why do you keep playing poppin party songs" "1) they're loud enough to cover the sound of us moving 2) they're more focused on me, the source of the music and 3) if you actually noticed" you point at Joseph "I found out he in particular has a real liking for Arisa he's not just gonna ignore her out of all people" Sure enough a familiar photographer appeared in the distance. "You mind opening the exit gate"

Despite him being sarcastic as hell he tries to sing along when you practice or perform. "You look like someone just sucked the life outta you" "how do you do this on the regular?" "Vocal practice wait till you have to scream in matches to save people" "." This stuff isn't for him but listening to you do it sounds alot better, and its nice to hum. You've caught him humming more times than you can count, and whenever you tell him he gets embrassed. "It's cute tho" "I'm sure the hunter could catch us if I continued" "They're across the map"

He hates the way you kiss whenever you're rushing somewhere. You do this thing he calls the entertainer's peck. Where you'd wave or acknowledge him, kiss his cheek and continue walking. He hates it because of how it lingers, you can't just take his hand to turn him toward you only to kiss him on the cheek and leave to a concert area or to decode. You're making him lose focus, one of those kisses that make you want another. You'd have him mummbling like a fool, espically if he could chase after you he'd give you his own peck, which led to the part he hated the most, the soft "I'll cherish this" expression on your face when you look back at him. He's giving you another until you stop looking at him like that!

He knew you were an aristocrat and he was thankful for it there was a higher chance you realized his talents. Hed ask you to dance first. "Shall we dance?" "Sure" informal way of accepting but formal style of dance. The way you both were able to be in sync no matter what move you threw at him, it turned out to be more of a test of skill than a friendly dance, as soon as you dipped him you could see all of the energy he lost hit him at once as he could barely keep himself up, you giggled at his predicament. "We should do this more often, you're alot more used to this than I thought" "we should, maybe I could try tossing you" his face straightens "nevermind"

Party! She's litterally with you all the time, with Luca as a carry on. You three would basically host rock concerts in the manor. You'd sing about freedom and living on, who cares for the noise complaint invest in ear plugs!!

You'd always be with her or luca during the games, though you do prefer Demi a bit more, she dosent laugh so hard it alerts the hunter. She's also more aware than Luca making running away alot easier. Though after games you prefer Luca, Luca doesn't cling to you so much you have to sleep in the same bed as him to make him feel better, he just calls you his hero

Does help when you're rescuing her, Naiad could be dashing toward you yet all be stopped by a simple ear spliting shreak from you, you had her seeing double. "I didn't know you could also do metal" "it's useful with the amount of commissions I get"

She'd randomly get an idea to try and wing along while you play. "I got it I got it" reasuring herself you begin to play familiar chords as she opens her mouth you change them to diffrent ones "I DONT KNOW THE LYRICS TO TEAR DROPS" "you got it!" She indeed barely had it, barely able to say of the lyrics correctly. Her revenge? "You mind playing this" she shows you probably the most confusing sheet music you've seen in your career a Frederick special if you will. "Alright-" and so the manor wondered what happened to the music they randomly heard when passing your room for the next 2 days

She'd fall asleep If you two weren't summoned for a round that day leaving you and her alone to explore the manor or practice guitar. People would come and go to you twos makeshift karoke. Espically Norton apparently. "IT WAS LOST LONG AGO BUT ITS ALL COMMING BACK TO ME" those two would sing with their hearts out the whole manor could tell you the lyrics by heart. You could play a cord to a song she'd accidently "ITS ALL COMMING BACK TO ME" "." "That wasn't the right song?" "No"

Almost scream royality. Random bug? "AHHHHHH" small spoke? "AUHHHHHHH" you and luca pretending to be possessing eatchothers bodies "NOOOOOO" surprisingly she doesn't scream like this when a giant nun lady jumps at her, except when she did and found out why you're scream royality. "So how'd ya get chaired?" "Rescue me first" "you're way too far from half" she pouts "so I tried screaming to burst her ear drums like you do..." "and?" "And she looked me straight in the eyes, then the cat screamed louder I swear it was like one of yours and then I was here" ".pft" "not cool!"

She gets tipsy during rounds, leading to some fun confessions of love. "Y/n...I love youu" she leans onto you, puckered lips to an exaggerated degree. "I gotta decode Demi" sighing you let her cling onto you tighter "did any person tell you how cute you are? Am I the first?" "You aren't" she gasps dramatically "reallllyyyy?" "Yea, a barmaid got to me before you" she blows a raspberry

She leads you away for rounds, asking for help setting up a kiting area. "Thanks for the help" she lands a kiss on your cheek. "Demi" "what?" "I appreciate it but Luca might vomit over this again" "he forced himself to" she wraps her arms around your waist, leaning in to be closer to you "he'll be fine" he wasn't fine. "You two really gotta get a room" "wadya mean?" "You keep looking with these lovey dovey eyes, were all on the same cipher and that poor guys probably single handedly evading that rock guy. "Arent they the same person" "yea they both got that same scar" "now you're tag teaming me?" "Yea" you both make the same look.

If she were ever to escape the hunter injured she'll run to you near instantly. "I think you should kiss me and all my injuries will heal" "that's not how it works Demi" you continue your healing "you're so warm..." "I know" "hehe" you kiss her forehead, finishing up. "I'm still injured" she dramatically places her hand on her forehead, both of you hearing a cipher being popped. "Oh look you're at full health" she sighs "worth a shot"

You being an aristocrat? She didn't care much but it did affect how you did certain things, and explained why you knew how to take care of plants,paint, and piano...barely the gutairs more fitting. When you asked her to dance, she got flustered, such a formal request, but comming from you it should have been a bit obvious it was comming. She didn't expect how graceful you were, it felt like an instructor dancing with their student for a test, the turns focused eyes turning to soft looks whenever you made eye contact with her. It was a flustering the hell outta of her she couldn't think for more than two secounds with you suddenly invading her thoughts with the shift in demeanor. When she took the lead by the end and dipped you, you seemed to snap out of it. "You're really good at improv" "how sweet of you" she huffs bringing you up to stand. "Would you like to dance again later?" "You sound like an old noble"

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

Be Mindful Grateful Positive True Kind Distressed Flannel Shirt

This listing is for a one-of-a-kind distressed bleached "Be Mindful Grateful Positive True Kind" button down flannel shirt.

If your size is showing sold out, reach out to use to see if we have received a shipment of products in, due to the availability of items during this holiday season, we receive our products in daily.

No two shirts will ever be exactly alike so please aware and embrace the differences. All shirts are carefully curated, hand-dyed, and re-purposed so that each shirt is going to be different from the next in terms of color and plaid print.

SIZING: These shirts vary, many are unisex and come in men's sizing. They can be worn by both men & women. Ordering your normal t-shirt size is recommended for a regular fit. Going 1 size up works well for a baggy/oversized fit. Women's or Children's Specific sizing will be noted on the photo/variation options selected.

FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.

COLORS: Each flannel is unique, and no two shirts are going to look exactly alike. Colors are sent at random. Because the colors often change throughout the bleaching process, I cannot take specific color requests for these shirts.

CONDITION: All of our flannel shirts are brand new and washed twiced.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.

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[phoebejaysims]

Social Clubs Mod - DOWNLOAD

Tired of your sims walking aimlessly through town? No friends, no hobbies, no purpose? Put an end to their lack of a fulfilling social life by creating a million and one clubs for them to join and/or get kicked out of! 

With 50+ activities for you to push, including activities from over 10 different mods, and 4 specialised club types, you can create almost any club you can think of: book clubs, invite-only hangouts, afterschool clubs and more! Grow memberships, take part in tournaments and ship cute little subscription gifts straight to your sim’s door.

Note: This mod is very extensive, so please thoroughly read the documentation in the download that I’ve painstakingly written up.

Compatibility: Should be base game compatible however expansion packs, store content and mods add more content.

7 New Objects: Credit to @aroundthesims who has generously allowed me to use her items as well as @twinsimming who converted 2 items for me. Full credit in the documentation.

Testers: @desiree-uk who not only tested the mod, but contributed ideas for club activities, the banking system and the subscription gift system. @simsdeogloria who kindly offered to test the mod and caught some bugs that I had completely missed.

Credits: Full credit in documentation. However, thank you to @olomayasims​, IcarusAllsorts, Arsil, Buzzler & @zoeoe-sims​, @anitmb​, @greenplumbboblover​, @flotheory​ as I push some of their mods as activities.

Club Types

Custom Club: Push specific activities (or no activity at all) and watch your active and inactive club members congregate and do said activities. Push bowling, swimming, rumba, nectar drinking, collecting, studying, music lessons, among many other things. 

Subscription-Only Club: While members won’t meet up, force them to pay a subscription fee to the club owner for your own purposes. Consider: food subscription service, council-tax payments, school fees.

Book Club: Choose a book for the book club. Your sims will sit together, have discussions, and read said book.

Formal Gathering Club: Set musicians and/or a speaker (podium or pulpit). Have your club members sit down and act like they’re listening to said musicians and speaker. Choose a skill to increase while the club is in operation.

Club Vibes

Clubs can have different vibes depending on the cost and activities, attracting or repelling different types of sims. There are sports, games, intellectual, low-brow and high class clubs. Some personalities will be more inclined to join than others.

Customising Clubs

Set different open days, open hours, required club outfits, subscription fees, gender, age, career and trait requirements/restrictions, forbidden actions etc.

Autonomy

Allow or restrict autonomy in different ways. Make clubs open or closed invite, allowing or disallowing sims to join, leave, or be kicked out of clubs with or without your own input. Put club boards around town and let sims browse. Impress observers by having a great club session and watch them beg to join!

Tournaments

Win tournaments and gain club acclaim. Get cash prizes, find yourself in the newspaper, and find out if any of your fellow club members are playing for the opposing team. Your own sim isn’t exempt from the repercussions of being a club traitor!

Banking

Create Bronzo accounts for your sims. You can link these accounts to schedulers and have the club fee delivered straight into the account. Take out loans, find the best interest rates online and stay out of your overdraft. Try not to get your account details stolen at the all new ATMs that you can place around town and don’t leave your debit card laying around near strangers!

Download MTS: http://www.modthesims.info/d/677428

Conflicts: None.

If you would like to donate to say thank you, you can do that at my Ko-fi, here.

It’s been a long 8 months getting this mod done; thank you all for your patience and enjoy! @ me if you post any pictures of your clubs—I’d love to see your pictures.

[wordy-little-witch]

Ya know what occurs to me?

Karai Bari is in the New World.

Crocodile and Mihawk only showed up after the establishment of the delivery service.

Buggy was in Paradise. Marineford would have been in Paradise, I think, or at least Buggy's crew still was.

He doesn't have conquerors to cross the calm belt.

So... to get to the New World and set up shop, he'd have to have gone through Fishman Island, wouldn't he? So he'd had to have gotten the ship coated.

He'd likely have had to face Rayleigh or at least he'd have anticipated it - maybe Shanks even mentions Rayleigh hanging around there, maybe even mentioning him having NEVER missed Shanks passing through....

So when Buggy goes when Buggy expects to be found and claims to be dreading it and is but is also so hopeful so scared so broken so hesitant he's got a few different courses figured for how this will go down.

Only.... Rayleigh isn't there. Shakky is. She just directs them to another coater. Buggy fights himself, wants to ask, doesn't want to beg, and-

Shakky answers the question he couldn'tdislodge from his throat. "Sorry, baby blue, Ray's just working on something real important. You know how it is."

He does. He does know how it is. Important, huh? That's fine. It's probably a job. It's probably not that big of a deal that dad master Rayleigh is preoccupied. Buggy shouldn't have expected the man to drop everything and come running why did he think that, Rayleigh never did it before, not even Shanks' assurance he'd leave a message for Rayleigh would change much, and fuck he can't afford to cry so-

So Buggy gets the ship coated. It's not as pricy as he'd worried. He navigates them down, can even bring himself to smile at the wide eyed wonder from the rest. It's nice. He's fine here - these are his people. He's okay, really, and he'll be able to let this go or shove it into that nameless box in his head and heart soon enough. He just has to ride the wave, you know-?

Only no. Not really. Because a newspaper lands in his hands. And his brain is racing.

Because Rayleigh wasn't at Sabaody at all. He was with Strawhat. He was training Strawhat. He showed up, after the war, so close to the conflict, to train the kid. Rayleigh is fast, but not that fast. He'd have to have left around a week before Buggy even arrived. Shanks had assured him Rayleigh was there when he dropped by ((two weeks ago)). He knew because his brother had wrapped him in his arm and tears were shed, voices were raised and hearts were broken, wounds torn open to drain the festering rot and the healing hurt, it hurt then, it hurts now, it will hurt and hurt and hurt, because Buggy had pushed the Big Top to her near limits just to reach the archipelago that his former guardian ex-father previous family that Rayleigh called home. Shanks had called him, said he'd dropped the message and Rayleigh had chuckled and nodded and Buggy wanted to see his dad because there were still so many scars that had to be seen and acknowledged and Buggy himself wasn't even fully recovered physically but emotionally he had to do it, had to take the step and try because vulnerability brought the best and worst of him out, because he lost a brother and gained him back and he wanted for his father, at least one of them.

But Strawhat was on that front page. And Rayleigh was behind him, smiling, warm, proud, happy, and - Buggy aches. He's angry. He's livid. A week or so, by his estimate, for Rayleigh to find him and get there to the war ground. A week or so because Rayleigh was old but he was still painfully fast. In a week or so, the older man hunted down a boy he'd possibly met once or twice in passing. A week or so and The Dark King showed up to bring another strawhat wearing monster of epic proportions under his wing, had made impressive time in finding the kid, making the plan, getting to the navy hq, getting out, and that's accounting for the article writing, printing, and distribution.

A week or so to find a bright little sunshine boy he barely knew when one he raised rotted in a cell for months on end.

Busy with something real important, he recalled Shakky saying.

His chest burned for a moment, hot and wild and unyielding - and just as suddenly, the fire was gone. He was tired. He was so fucking tired. His injuries throbbed, his head hurt, his scars itched. He sighed, set the paper aside and curled impossibly small into his chaise lounge with a teary chuckle as he gripped his hair and tried to silence the keen building in his chest. He cursed himself for it, bitter and angry.

After all, he should be used to being outshined, out classed and out loved by energetic boys with bright smiles in little wicker crowns.

Story of his life

He is unaware of the many eyes on him, of the people Plotting and Arranging things on their own time. Their captain is the best - uncommon, unexpected, temperamental though he is, he is everything everyone needs him to be because it's the only thing he knows how to do. They see the seams in his mask and performance, and they ache to pay back the pain left on their captain, their boss, their leader and friend. Buggy pirates stick together, freaks and weirdos united - and nobody is allowed to hurt their captain without some serious followup.

[babygirl-riley]

There was During You Pt.II

Both you and Ghost came to terms of being in love

“I’ve never fallen from quite this high. Falling into your ocean eyes.”

Warnings: fluff, establishment of relationship, mentions of sex, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst list

pt.I pt.III

You leaned back in the tub feeling the warmth of it relax your muscles. The candles flickering the darkness and the smell of lavender made you relax even more. You heard footstep approach as you felt a hand graze your cheek.

“Care for me to join love?” You opened your eyes for the beautiful caramel brown eyes looking at you. You smiled at him and shook your head. You scoot yourself up as Simon came from behind you, having himself nestled against you, wrapping his arms around you. You played with his tatted arm as you sighed in content.

Simon brought you close as he placed his lips on your shoulder. You leaned against his back even more. “You ‘ight, didn’t go too hard?” He mumbled kissing more up your neck.

You moaned quietly. “No, little sore but nothing too serious,” You chuckled as you looked over a bit to kiss his cheek. “Going rough isn’t always bad.”

He hummed into your skin as he rubbed your sides. Both of you were pent up bad, mission that almost took Soap’s and Price’s life. It was the most difficult one so far for you at least. So when Price gave the go for the task force to have a little leave, both you and Simon went to his apartment. Non stop sex for hours, he was rough against your body. Biting, small choking, his grasps harsher. You could have stopped it at anytime but it felt good everywhere. His back was also marked by you, the scratching from the pleasure that would run through your veins.

“How’s your back?” You asked moving to face him.

“Nothin’ I can’t handle,” He smiled looking at you with lidded eyes. You cupped his cheek and kissed him softly before nestling back into him. It was quiet, a good content quiet. Both of you have been together for over a year never established anything.

Simon noticed the way his actions have changed around you. He made sure you were alright during missions, make sure he was sitting next to you during debriefs, and especially making you your favorite tea he introduced you. Then going to each others flat and staying there until the next mission or work at the base. Simon has been in denial about the sudden change of feelings towards you and so have you.

Simon even noticed by the way he would feel when you looked at him. Giving him a soft smile. The flutter that would fill his chest. The way he changed his actions, being soft with you, making sure you were safe. Even the last couple of months he has taken you out for dinners, activities, or just work outs. Simon never really wanted or needed someone to be around. You. You changed that.

It was the same for you, wanting to be near him. Hear his voice. Make sure you can touch him. Simon never admitted it neither have you. But both of you have shown each other the difference. Both of you too stubborn to say anything but the shift change between the situation-ship to something more.

You noticed the small acts of service he has been doing for you. You have been doing the same, more smiling when he was around, getting excited when you see the skull mask appearing. Making sure he was fine on missions. Leaving small things at his apartment, like a toothbrush. Some clothes being left in drawers.

Simon sighed once more. “You should move in.” You mumbled, your heart rate picking up.

Simon froze from behind you, his hands stopping. You froze as well. It was a long silence before he shifted a bit. “Or you can move into mine,” He offered. “It’s a bit bigger.”

You smiled a bit. “That would be fine, my lease ends in a couple of months.” Simon hummed, going quiet again, the air feeling tense. “We don’t have to though,” You whispered could feel cold sweat starting on your forehead. “I know this is just sex and I don’t want to…”

“Ya think this is just sex?” He interrupted, his voice lowering.

You felt a hitch in your throat, is this the time? What if he runs away from you admitting what is happening is more than the sex? Or close up? Or request a move out of the 141. You inhaled and moved to turn to him. His brown eyes locking on yours, his eyes searching for the answer. His heart was beating hard enough he was sure you could hear.

Simon shouldn’t have said anything, he noticed the nervousness in your eyes. Which made him want to get up and leave entirely. Act like nothing happened. On the other hand he couldn’t move, he wanted to know what is going to be the answer.

“I,” You paused letting out a shutter. “I don’t think so,” His facial expression didn’t move from the emotion he had on originally, you couldn’t read him like this yet. You both never talked about feelings much let alone how you both feel about each other. “Simon…I have felt like this. I think it has become something more. Something that we both are scared of but I know that I am not afraid of us.”

Simon listened closely waiting for the punchline of ‘But.’ Or ‘It won’t work.’ But it never led to that, the sentence ending there. Simon glared for a moment before he inhaled. “I share the same thoughts love,” He sat up as the water moved against your bodies. “I’m…scared as well.”

He had been terrified the last couple of months. When he first realized that the feelings had changed was when your life was almost taken. Bullet just grazing your head. You knocked out from the other bullets hitting your vest, blood pooling from your head. He thought you were a goner until you all reached the medical tent. He paced, he couldn’t sleep, he could barely think as you were being worked on.

When Price came into the room with Gaz, Soap, and him. He thought you were gone but once Price said you were awake and moving. His heart skipped then leaped into full speed. When walking into the tent, he froze, everything hitting him like a freight train. You smiling at him and reaching for him. For him. That’s when he knew he was not in a friends with benefits relationship.

You smiled, the smile that always lightened his mood. The smile that right then Simon could see the light engulfing his dark thoughts of what ifs. Anyone he got this close to, to consider love for always gets taken away. He is afraid of saying it, acknowledging it but now with your comfort smile it went away.

You placed a hand on his cheek. “Me too but Si…I never have fallen this hard before. I don’t know if that scares you more than me but I have to say it I can’t…”

Before you could even finish Simon’s hand went to the back of your neck to pull into a kiss. Simon had been feeling the same way, relief engulfing his chest and veins. Finally he felt like everything was coming together. That he felt safe and loved. The kiss was passionate and basically hit the air out of you. You kissed him back, as your tongues danced against one another. It felt like your world was coming together, fitting a puzzle piece you have been so carefully making.

You didn’t know how it got to the point of you on your bed. He worshiped your body, slowly kissing your body, nipping and sucking on your favorite spots. His hands softly roaming your body. Squeezing your hips or breasts. It felt like you were on cloud 9, your body just feeling adrenaline after a work out. Simon sat back admiring your naked body on the bed. “Fuck baby, what have you done to me?” He whispered crawling back up, hovering over your body. Caging you in. Making you feel secure and safe.

You smiled up at him kissing him tenderly. You wanted this for so long, just watching Simon’s eyes soften whenever you touched him tenderly. You broke the kiss and stroke his cheek. “What have we done to each other?”

[itsabouttimex2]

A Brand New Journey:

Part Three

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six)

The screen of your phone is lit up with a cheerful blue, displaying a picture of a shipping container that’s been converted into a restaurant, decorated with images of stylized kittens and tea bags.

Swipe.

Glowing reviews from visitors, praising service and atmosphere. Even more praise for the tea. Overwhelming adulation for the felines present at the establishment. The only thing that’s lacking is information on the food.

Swipe.

Pictures of the menu, drawn on a standing chalkboard easel. The prices are fair and reasonable, each item having a printed photo pinned up near the flowery writing.

Swipe.

The most recent deal of the day- for mooncakes. Buy one box of six, get one box of six free. And for a slight upcharge to the original price of the first box, two bottled drinks.

Click.

That was… entirely unhelpful. You would have expected your mentor to comment on the picture you had sent, or maybe to be told what flavor they’d like you to pick up- but it seemed that he had either not seen it or simply thought you were giving him an update on your general status.

Also, you really had to get his information updated. Since no one else ever really touched your phone, you’d probably be safe putting his name and a photo- all you had to do was talk him into holding still for a picture.

Aside from all that…

The restaurant was close enough that you could walk to it on foot, so it’s not as though you’d be out so long that you’d miss training. The deal was incredibly good- and each customer could use it twice for a total of four boxes and four drinks, which meant that even after having a meal with your mentor there’d be leftovers to snack on after long training sessions.

All you had left in your fridge was… what was it? A jar of peanut butter, several bananas, some yogurt aaand… maybe a few protein bars? Oh, and several bags of mixed nuts.

You make a quick note to restock your post-workout snacks the next time you come into Megapolis. Concealer, too.

You plug in your headphones and turn on directions, then shove your phone into the pocket of your bag, heading towards the restaurant.

Although you don’t get to the city as often as you once did, it’s a sort of ‘second home’ to you. The air is fresh, the people are kind. The streets are clean. The food is very good.

You love it, a little bit.

Your thoughts soon turn away from the city and back towards your mentor, who you had never managed to talk into a visit, even for just an hour. Sure, he’d indulge in the snacks and drinks you brought around. And he seemed a little interested in the locations you offered to bring him to.

So much coaxing and reassuring, so many proffered hoodies and sunglasses to disguise his face- but he hadn’t ever accepted them.

You would get him out for a trip one of these days, you had sworn to yourself. Drag him out to the zoo or a museum. Maybe one of the public gardens.

But, until then…

You’d just have to enjoy the all the wonders of the city by yourself-

Like the converted shipping container that’s standing in front of you, labeled “Mo’s Cakes”, and painted blue. The “o” is a replica of the moon, painted so that the famous ‘bunny’ mark is actually a cat.

The craftsmanship is incredible, and it doesn’t look too crowded… so you hurry and go inside, peering at the menu.

…what would he like? With twenty-four mooncakes in total, you could introduce him to- no, it wouldn’t be introducing, really. He had probably had lots of these before. They’re a popular food throughout China, and tons of stores sell them in Megapolis. But with how far out you had to go to see him, it felt sometimes like he was an old hermit.

“Excuse me,” calls a gentle voice, standing at the counter. “Can you come over here?”

So not introducing, not really. Maybe there’d be a few new flavors in the mix somewhere he hadn’t tried yet, but it’s not like it’d be his first time eating mooncakes. Maybe a few of the more modern makes. Ice cream filled, perhaps? Or transparent crystal jelly?

“I just need you for a minute, please!”

And then maybe one of these days you could introduce him to several other treats that he might not have had access to. Cheese tea? White Rabbit Candy? Pineapple buns? Hell, there were a couple of “exotic snack” shops in Megapolis. Maybe you could bring a bag of konpeitō or a tin of florecitas for him to try.

“Mo? Could you…?”

Unbeknownst to you, a blue-furred cat sits on one of the many scratching board platforms nailed into the walls, peering down at the customers. He stretches out with a little ‘mrrow’, then leaps from his perch and lands on the space between your shoulder blades.

You’re pretty composed, most of the time.

But when an unseen and very fuzzy thing lands close to your neck and clings tight? It’d have been more of surprise if you hadn’t freaked out.

There’s a few embarrassing seconds spent squealing and flailing around, futilely trying to reach for the furred thing, only stopping when someone grabs your shoulders. Warmth and power in equal amounts enfold your upper arms, two hands lifting you off the ground, turning you around, and placing you in front of the checkout counter.

“You must be Y/N!” The man- not quite a human, now that you get a better look at him- says, hurrying back to his station. When he holds his arms out, the cat on your back leaps in them. “Pigsy’s been telling me about you!”

“…Mister Pigsy told you about me?”

The river demon smiles ear to ear, baring fangs that would be intimidating on anyone else. But with his pink apron and blue cat and white sweatpants, he’s actually really endearing.

“He did,” the demon confirms, one large hand reaching out to meet the one you tentatively offer. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N! I’m Sandy, and this is Mo!”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mister Sandy. And you, Mo.”

“Aww, you’re so polite!” Sandy warmly praises, still grinning. “Thanks, little guy!”

His words might have been patronizing from another mouth. But there’s a genuine sincerity in them, a kindness blooming from every word that makes them feel truly flattering instead of condescending.

“Um, then… you must be one of Mister Pigsy’s friends, right?”

“That’s right! We’ve known each other for along time, actually! Now, what can I do you for?”

“Oh, um… is the buy one get one deal still… going on, like, currently? I wanted something to, uh… share with my mentor, and this seemed like a good deal, so I thought… to come check?”

Smooth, Y/N. Tell him you have a mentor and stumble over your words. Typical, really.

“That’s sweet of you,” he eagerly says, uncaring of your fumbling. “Two boxes or four, kiddo?”

“Four, please. I’m trying to introduce him to, uh, new things. He’s kinda, I guess… traditional with what he eats?”

“I can get you two of a few things so you can try them together!”

“Oh, um, please! And thank you, Mister Sandy!”

“Of course, of course! And what four teas?”

“Two green and two oolong, please!”

“Coming right up!”

———————————————————————

…today has been a good day. You got to see MK and Pigsy again, and made what you think is probably a new friend. And you’ve got twenty four mooncakes to share and good, healthy tea for workouts. And for such a good deal, too- Sandy had applied a “friend” discount almost without you realizing it, probably because you were dear to someone he cherished. You had slipped a tip under Mo’s collar before you left, under the guise of giving him scratches.

As you head back to your mentor’s house, the events play on repeat. Today was a really good day. And, as you look ahead of you, it only gets better.

The trees down the path are newly blooming, it seems. Each one branches proudly towards the sky, standing tall. Down the middle of the path is a neatly paved stream, full of aquatic flora blossoming in the crystal waters.

[ereardon]

At Sea [Bob Floyd x Reader] Chapter 1

Summary: I’ll be home in five weeks. That’s what naval aviator Y/N told her fiance before leaving for deployment in the Atlantic. But time ceased to stop when she met Bob Floyd, the ship surgeon. Shy and honest, Bob quietly slipped into Y/N’s life, creating a complicated dynamic on an already intense mission. Falling for Bob was not in Y/N’s plan, and as she continues to weave a web of lies, she must make a choice: return to the life she left on land, or forge ahead into the unknown with Bob. But before Y/N can decide, disaster strikes, leaving Bob to make the decision that will alter their lives forever. 

Pairing: Navy Doctor Bob Floyd x Female Aviator Reader

Warnings: Implied emotional cheating, lots of Naval inaccuracies

WC: 2.3K

Masterlist here

When you first stepped onto the ship, you didn’t notice him. You were too caught up with the running list of checklist items in your head. 

Is your bag too big? Did you bring enough pairs of underwear? Were there enough officers for a carrier of this size? What was the threat level of the mission? Were you wrong to say yes? 

You looked down. The two carat oval engagement ring glinted back. The ring you had dreamed about since you were a teen and first saw a similar one on a debutante. 

You just weren’t sure that the man who had purchased it was the man you had been dreaming of. 

Connor proposed three weeks before the carrier run. The two of you had met almost two years before, at a museum opening. He was a prince, for a while. But at some point, and it’s different for every relationship, the carriage turns back into a pumpkin. The prince becomes a pauper. The tux has to be returned to avoid a late fee. 

You had expected magic. And then you joined the Navy and reality set in. You were no longer the bright eyed Louisiana girl who believed in fairytales and princes. You were an aviator who witnessed death up close. 

When Connor placed the ring on your finger, nothing stood out. Tears didn’t choke your line of vision. Your hands didn’t shake, your stomach didn’t cramp, your pulse didn’t raise. 

The only thing that happened was you hesitated. For a split second, but a hesitation nonetheless. 

And then you smiled and nodded. 

And with that, you belonged to him. 

***

You grabbed the first bunk and tossed your bag on it. A five-week mission with barely any service, except for satellites. It feels wrong, but a part of you was relieved knowing Connor couldn’t contact you. 

At dinner, you entered the mess hall and sat at a table toward the middle when a round of laughter erupted from near the doors and you turned to look. 

There was a group of five men, all attractive in the way that large groups of men can be intimidating from afar. Four brunettes and a blond with wire glasses. Of the brunettes, three were wearing wedding rings that glinted beneath the fluorescent lights. Scoping out wedding rings had become a habit about ten years before, right before you left for college. 

And now, you were the one carting around the ring that said, Don’t talk to me. I’m taken. 

You must have been staring, because the blond turned and looked at you for a moment, the two of you locking eyes before you began to panic and ripped your gaze down to the overmixed mashed potatoes on your plate. When you looked up again, he had turned away. 

Later, once everything had been cleaned and your introductory meetings for the day had been complete, you found yourself wandering on the ship deck. The water was calm. You rested your fingertips on the rail and peered down. The blackness of the sky mixed with the blackness of the deep water, and on the horizon it isn’t clear where one ends and the other begins. You never liked water all that much. It’s why you chose to be in the skies instead. The deep ocean and how at night on a ship light this, you and the crew were the only ones for miles – the thought terrified you. 

It took a moment in the darkness to realize that the blond from the mess was standing not ten feet away, leaning on the rail and looking down at the water. It wasn’t until he sighed that you realized he was on a satellite phone. 

“Those aren’t good. Run another panel and let me know how it looks. Get back to me as soon as the blood work is done.” 

You heard the click of the phone just as you locked eyes. You gave him a quick smile before turning back to the water. He rested his head into his arms and let out a loud breath. 

After a moment, he lifted his head and said, “It’s not fair, you know.” 

You pushed yourself up off the rail and turned to him. “What?” 

“The fact that kids get sick. If an adult gets sick when they’re seventy or even forty, I feel bad, but it’s not the same. They’ve had lives. They got to grow up and find out what hobbies make them happiest. They fall in love, get married.” You noticed he wasn’t wearing a ring. Instinctively, you felt for your ring with your thumb, the diamond pressed against the fleshy part of your palm. It was too big, and you hadn’t gotten it resized. Unconsciously, you slipped your hand inside your pocket. “But kids,” he continued. “They haven’t really experienced anything yet. They have so much more to lose.” 

You gave him a quick once over. He was obviously distraught. He gave you a tight smile. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I must sound crazy to you. Just going off to a complete stranger. I promise, I’m not dangerous and I never really talk this much.” 

“I don’t mind,” you replied. “I don’t think you’re crazy. And out here, nobody can really be strangers for long.” 

He nodded and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he muled your words. After a moment, he looked over at you and you felt my heart start to race as his blue eyes smoothed over your face. The two of you were less than six feet apart now. Somewhere during the conversation one of you had moved closer, or both of you had. You weren't sure who made the move first. “Well I’m sorry, again, for interrupting you. I’ll let you be.” He made no move to leave.

You tilted your head. “Don’t worry about it. It can get pretty lonely out here. I don’t mind the conversation.” 

He was still looking at you so intensely that you had to look away. He was difficult to read. But the way his large hands were gripping the railing made you want to reach out and brush your hand over his and tell him it was going to be OK. To calm down. To relax.

He gave you a small smile. “Goodnight, then.” He had a long gait, neat. No uniform. 

You wondered what he thought of you. Sloppy, to say the least. Hair in a bun, pajama bottoms dragging down over ratty sneakers. 

Along the horizon, you spotted the light of another ship, barely visible in the thick darkness. Some reassurance that others were out there. 

***

On the second night, you were standing in nearly the same spot on the railing, hands pressed against the cold metal, peering over at the churning waves. The water was rockier, angry. It lept against the side of the ship. 

You heard his footsteps before he was within your line of sight. 

“Hello again.” 

You turned, the slight lick of wetness beneath the fabric of your sleeve. On a ship, everything is wet all the time. It’s nearly impossible to stay dry. “It’s you.” 

He took his spot next to you against the rail, closer this time. You reached up, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, silently sending up a prayer that you had put in an ounce of effort that night. It had been an educated guess he would come. 

A part of you hoped he would, however terrible that was to admit. 

“Can I ask what you’re doing here?” he asked. 

“Here, as in the deck at midnight? Or here on the ship?” 

“Both. Either.” The edges of a bright white smile shone through soft pink lips. “Neither, if you don’t want to talk to a stranger. Whatever you’d like to tell me. I’m a bit starved for conversation. It’s been a quiet day down in the sick bay.” 

So he was med corps. That tracked. 

“You seemed rich with conversation in the mess last night,” you blurted out. Regret flowed through your veins instantly and you wanted to smack yourself for letting onto the fact that you had been watching him. 

He gave a small laugh. It was rough and deep and forced a layer of goosebumps on your arms. “They’re good guys. But they can be a lot.” 

You tilted your head, waiting for him to fill the empty space. But he simply gazed out at the azure waves, letting silence envelop the two of you. 

“To answer your question of what brings me here,” you said, “why don’t you give me your best guess.” 

You could feel his stare all the way to the marrow of your bones. The way his eyes gently rolled over your hair, down your face, across your chest, over your abdomen, all the way to your feet. You felt a tingle work its way through your body. “Intelligence?” he guessed. 

You shook your head. 

“Engineering?” 

“Nope.” 

“OK I give up,” he said with a small grin. 

“I’m an aviator.” He blinked in disbelief. “You’re surprised?” 

“Honestly?” he asked. “Yes. You look really young to be on this carrier as an aviator.” 

“I’m twenty eight. Not sure that’s considered young.” 

He groaned. “Trust me, it’s young.” 

“So how old does that make you?” 

“Thirty five.” 

“God, ancient.” You watched him grimace. “Being a grandpa suits you.” 

“People are living to one hundred now, easily. I’m young by those standards.” 

My eyes scanned him top to bottom. He was taller than me, with thick blond hair combed evenly to one side, soft blue eyes behind a pair of thin wire glasses. Nerdy in an unassuming way, but there was an energy that radiated from him. 

“OK, my turn to ask questions,” you said and his lips twitched into a smile. “What brings you here?” 

“The ship or the deck?” he teased. 

“Either.” 

“If we’re talking about the ship – I’m a doctor. Peds. Someone had to drop out last minute and I got called in. That phone call you overheard last night was about one of my patients back home. I didn’t know I’d be here. Didn’t realize I’d be gone so long without seeing him.”

A doctor. You had suspected, but it fit. The sympathetic eyes, the large steady hands. The way he made you feel calm without even saying anything. 

“As for the deck,” he continued, “what if I said it was because I thought maybe I wouldn’t have to be alone tonight?” 

“Presumptuous,” you whispered. 

“A bit,” he murmured, round cheeks turning pink, “considering we’re not even on a first name basis.” 

You told him your name and he smiled. 

“I’m Bob,” he replied. “Bob Floyd.” 

“See? Now we’re not strangers.” 

He smiled, wire glasses sliding down his nose and he pressed them up with one fingertip. Behind him, a few security lights casted thin yellow halos, and you could make out the faint shape of a person on the other end of the long, flat deck. It couldn’t be more than forty degrees out, and you shivered in your thin jacket. “Are you cold?” he asked. 

“I’m alright, thanks.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, and in doing so realized you left the engagement ring back in the bunk after your morning shower. It had yet to become a habit to wear it. After twenty eight years with an empty finger, it’s an adjustment to slip on a ring every day and let it be one fact that the world knows about you before you even open your mouth. 

Bob shrugged off his jacket, a black Patagonia puffer, and held it out. “Here,” he said softly, blushing again like he was embarrassed to be offering it. “Please? I’d feel really guilty for monopolizing your time and keeping you cold while doing it.” 

You smiled and he held out the jacket as you slipped your arms into the sleeves. Bob’s hands lingered on the coat for a moment before dropping as he backed away. “Thank you.” His scent surrounds you – a warm woodsy pine, mixed with the sharp mint of toothpaste. 

You tapped your fingers on the rail, desperately racking your brain for something to say to continue the conversation. 

“What brought you out here tonight?” Bob’s deep, throaty voice punctuated the silence. 

“I’m not sure, honestly,” you replied. “I think I prefer to be out here as opposed to being in there.” His eyes followed your gaze to the cabin door. 

“I get that,” he replied. “Not a fan of small spaces either.” 

“There’s something about the ship at night that I really like. It’s quiet.” 

He gave you a sideways glance. “Sorry to be interrupting your quiet time.” 

“Trust me, I’ve had enough of that already and it’s only been two days.” 

“Where are you getting off?” 

“Pensacola.” 

“Quite a trip.” 

“Always is,” you replied. “Not really what I thought I was signing up for.” 

“It never is,” Bob added. 

You turned around, pressing your arms against the railing and propping up one foot. You watched as Bob ran one hand across the corner of his mouth before shoving it in his khaki pocket. The Atlantic wind penetrated Bob’s jacket and your shift, nipping at your skin. “You said you came up here hoping you wouldn’t have to be alone. Were you looking for me?” 

Your words are tossed out into the open like a gunshot. 

Bob stilled for a moment and you half expect him to make an excuse to leave. To avoid answering. But then he opens his mouth. “Yes.” 

That’s it. One word. Simple and complex at once. He is honest and raw in a way you’ve seen with very few men up until that point. A younger man would find a way to deflect. A smarter girl would have asked in a more coy way. Understated. Neither of which you excelled at. You’ve always been too pushy, too bold, too forward. 

“Why?” you pressed, embarrassed by how badly a part of you wanted this near stranger to want you. The neediness was unbecoming. And despite the fact that he was a stranger, you wanted Bob’s approval. It felt like an Olympic medal you had been chasing your entire life. 

“You were so kind last night,” he said, voice dipping down into a whisper. “I just, I wanted to learn more about the person who was nice to a complete stranger. That felt like someone worth knowing.” 

“You’re sweet.” 

Bob blushed and it spread to the tips of his ears. You could feel Bob’s gaze linger for a beat too long before he, too, turned back out toward the open, angry sea. 

“I should probably get to bed.” You stepped away from the railing, unzipping the jacket and handing it back to him. Instead of putting it on, he folded it over one forearm. 

Bob smiled. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Part of you wants more. Maybe it’s the chill of the wind and the sudden loss of warmth from his coat. Perhaps it’s your future, looming ahead. The unknown. Dark and uncharted, like the water the boat is struggling against. 

You wonder what Bob is thinking. His blue eyes searching yours, evaluating your next move. 

“Goodnight.” As you make your way inside, you resist the urge to turn around and see if he’s watching you walk away. 

A part of you knows that he is. 

Lying in the bunk, the cool dampness of the sheets on your skin, you curse yourself. What are you doing? You have a fiance at home. You have a life at stake. 

But who is to say that if you had met Bob before Connor that you wouldn’t fall into the same trap. Maybe every relationship is bound for it, eventually. Everyone boards a train headed in the same direction. There is no basis to say that one relationship is inherently more exciting than another. There’s every reason to believe that it’s because you grow older, more set in your ways. You get busier, drink more, have less sex, watch more TV, spend more time apart. That might just be life. And no matter how strong the butterflies are, it’ll eventually route back to that same destination. The end of the butterfly period, where everything turns into the inevitable. 

But that doesn’t explain why the last thing that crosses your mind before you fall asleep is Bob’s soft face, smiling at you from behind his wire frames. 

And how part of you can already feel him slipping away. 

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