#decked out visitor day

[give-grian-rights]

Why Hbomb94 Should Join Hermitcraft - Propaganda

this took me like three hours and i think theres some weird formatting but fucking hell

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x dc AU: the watchtower gives out very strictly limited passes for visitors. They don’t need the world knowing that their HQ is in space after all, but sometimes family needed to visit.

Batman was the one to install the day pass system back when Dick was Robin- he needed the excuse to send Dick home to Alfred after a certain amount of time has passed and it just stuck. Unless you were a full time member, day passes were the best you got. Engineers and other supportive staff that weren’t members weren’t afforded day passes however- but Jazz is determined to be the one exception.

Jazz Fenton has been a psychologist for the JL for a year now (she just had a very productive performance review, thank you very much) and it’s been killing her to not tell Danny her office is in space. They do weekly dinners that he portals in for, and he knows that she takes a Zeta tube to work, but he’s technically not allowed to know that her office is a satellite. So, she sets a meeting with the man who started the system in the first place.

Batman is hard to read for most but she’s been his therapist for a while now, and she can tell he’s at least considering her request. Dinah couldn’t speak more kindly on Jazz and she’s been an asset to the JL in many ways since she was hired. Jazz’ arguments aren’t preposterous either- she’s submitted all of his identification papers, his background check, his job description and all of his friends names. She assured him that Danny will be able to keep a secret but when pressed she doesn’t reveal if he has any of his own.

Turns out, months of back and forth and negotiations were going be basically worthless- the second Danny got his little wrist band day pass, made it up via the zeta tube and got presented the view of Earth from the observation deck: he immediately transformed. Like zero caution, just went ghost and hyper fixated on the stars.

“You could have mentioned your Brother being Phantom. He’s been an ally to us for a while.” Batman grumbles in the way that only his family and she can tell through his deadpan.

“Yeah, I just thought that would’ve been a second visit conversation.”

[bitterchocoo]

The Never Ending Rain

Imbibitor Lunae . Dan Heng | M. Reader as Neuvilette [Genshin Impact]

----------

"It's raining... Why is it still raining..?"

----------

The day Imbibitor Lunae decided to do the unthinkable was a tragic one.. So many people have lost faith and trust.

But one thing stood out from the rest...

It's raining... How..? This is the first time the Luofu ever rained... Is it even possible? For the ship to rain like that...

The Vidyadhara was as clueless as them. They don't remember ever doing something that may cause rain to happen. Even the Divination Commission was confused. In the entirety of their lives, never had they thought they'll ever see rain as a thing they now should worry about. It was strange.. A phenomenon of great mystery..

And so, the Seat of Divine Foresight search day and night for any information that might tell them what's happening, was it a prophecy? An old legend?

That's when they found it, in an old scroll, they say...

The legend says that, a dragon of water once resided in Luofu. Though the Luofu doesn't know where the dragon went, every time they weep the skies will cloud up and pour out rain. And they say that if you want to go out while the skies are clouded, yell out toward the sky at the top of your lungs.

"Hydro dragon, Hydro dragon, don't cry!"

Soon this Hydro Dragon became a normal legend you'll hear everywhere on the Luofu, even visitors had become accustomed with the legend.

Some poets write about it, some storytellers make up some stories about the legend, and so on and so on. Some even made theories as to why the dragon cries on that specific day... The day that Imbibitor Lunae was banished...

Some of them made sense, while the others are just words being put together and hope something sticks.

.

.

Then... The Nameless arrived...

Kafka had informed them about the Stellaron but she never said anything about the rain.. At first they thought that it was the Stellaron's doing until Miss Tingyun told them about the legend.

Never have they thought such a legend exists but here it is, the cloud up skies and the pouring rain.

March was more than excited when she found out about the legend, yelling out those words in the efforts that the dragon heard it and stopped crying. She expresses her sympathy to the dragon, talking to Mr. Yang and Stelle of how sad it is and start to make her own theories as to why the dragon is crying.

.

.

But on Dan Heng's side...

He was immediately met by rain the moment he steps on the Luofu, he knows full well why that is, his chest hurts at the thought of it before mumbling out an apology and heading out to wherever the trio is at.

During the course of his journey, Luocha and Sushang talk regarding the seemingly endless rain. Some say that it hasn't stopped raining since a specific day, sure there are some days where the skies are clear but that's only for a moment as rain pours out once again. As if the pain and suffering the dragon felt won't go away no matter how hard they try to forget about it.

This got Dan Heng thinking...

It hasn't stopped raining since back then..? This only adds up to his guilt.

To think that... That man cried that much... For a man that was banished...

He can't help but feel guilty because of it.

.

.

While the trio's journey continues, they soon meet the Chief Justice, [Name] [L.Name].

The man could be seen as aloof, distant, maybe even cold as his expression never changes from a neutral one. But despite that he's quite kind to people. As March would put it "Nicer Dan Heng."

They were surprised when the Judge leap from his seat and took care of the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus that invaded the courtroom, they never thought the ever so calm Judge could fight.

As time went on, [Name] insisted on going with them with the excuse that they needed all hands on deck with this crisis. Which isn't wrong.. So they let him. Then... They finally arrived at Scalegorge Waterscape... The flash of hurt and recognition on [Name]'s eyes as he saw the very person that had abandoned him...

As if clockwork, the skies began to cloud up once more.

"It's going to rain again." Stelle says as she looks up to the cloud sky. "Yeah you're right, and here I thought the sky's going to be clear a lot longer. Hydro dragon, Hydro dragon, don't cry!" March yelled out, looking at the sky with hope in her eyes, she actually likes that phrase because it sounded like she was comforting someone.

"Miss March I would appreciate it if you focus on our main objective here, I believe the Stellaron is a much bigger threat than the Hydro dragon." Jing Yuan spoke up, reminding them of their current objective.

"Not to mention it's just a legend, I don't think the skies will clear up just because you say that." Fu Xuan added.

Dan Heng only stays silent before approaching [Name] with a heavy heart. He knew what caused the rain.. Or rather... He knew who the Hydro dragon is...

[Name] is standing far away from the group as if he's collecting his thoughts, this doesn't surprise the group as the man would usually be like that. Like March says, a "Nicer Dan Heng." With hesitation, Dan Heng wrapped his arms on the dragon's waist as he hugged him from behind, burying his face on the taller man's back and mumbled out. "Hydro dragon, Hydro dragon, don't cry."

This caught the Judge off guard, did he hear that right? Did Dan Feng—No... Dan Heng just said that to him? As if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders and maybe his heart...

The skies cleared up.

"See! Did you guys see that!" March pointed out with excitement, her words have reached the dragon!

The group looked up at the clear sky with wide eyes, the sky had cleared up... So the legend is real..? People from the Cloud Knights usually think that the legend is just that.. A legend... But to see it for themselves as the skies cleared up once March said those words...

...Unknown to them it was Dan Heng who had comforted the dragon.

[Name] placed his glove hand on top of Dan Heng's before mumbling a small "thank you." But what was it for? Thank you for comforting him? Or was it a thank you for coming back?

Only [Name] knows.

He then patted his hand as if silently telling him to let go, Jing Yuan's right they have more important matters to attend to and Phantylia needs to be stop. Dan Heng reluctantly let go as he took a few steps back. He needs to separate the sea to get to Scalegorge Waterscape.

As Dan Heng gets ready, he tries to use his powers. Only for it to falter as if he's missing something.

Dan Heng tries again. "Hearken, as arbor revives and foe nears, we call forth the mighty waters of ancient sea, to flood abodes of heaven and quell roots of evil. We etch this in stone for all to heed."

It didn't work.

He tries to remember what he was missing he had said the incantation perfectly, and his power is completely at its peak... so what is he missing..?

He tries again, with his hand reach out he say the incantation one more time. "Hearken, as-"

Dan Heng stopped himself once he heard [Name] saying the incantation with him, he turn his head to the side and saw the other man standing next to him with his right hand stretched out, [Name] looks at Dan Heng and gave him a small nod before looking straight ahead. Giving a small nod in return, Dan Heng looks back at the ancient sea.

"Hearken, as arbor revives and foe nears, we call forth the mighty waters of ancient sea, to flood abodes of heaven and quell roots of evil. We etch this in stone for all to heed."

And just like that... the ancient sea separates...

The group was taken aback by this sudden revelation. Dan Heng wasn't able to do it on his own... and needed [Name] to do it with him...

But that can't be... a normal man can't just separate an ancient sea...

Unless...

"Your Honor... are you...?" Jing Yuan spoke up as he looks at [Name] in disbelief. The said man only sigh before giving him a firm nod. Jing Yuan smiles at the answer he was given, a confirmation.

[Name] [L. Name], the Chief Justice of the Luofu... a Judge in a courtroom... is the Hydro dragon.

[justabigassnerd]

Unexpected Visitor and Revelations

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradford!reader

Word count - 4,843

Warnings - swearing, angst, fluff, Jake almost punches Tim, Tim's a bit of an ass at first (and potentially OOC), alcohol, brief mentions of military

Summary - one evening at the Hard Deck, your brother decides to visit, meaning you and Jake have to confess your relationship status

A/N - hey y'all. sorry it's been so long since I last uploaded a fic, my motivation took a divebomb so finishing this took longer than expected. it's been a hot while since I wrote for Jake but I had fun with this! as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

Much like your older brother, Tim Bradford, you had grown up in a rough household. You had wanted out the first chance you had, so when Tim joined the Army after moving out, you had wanted to do a similar thing a couple of years later when you finally turned eighteen. Only you found yourself more drawn towards the Navy, and instead of wanting to throw yourself on the front line the same way your brother did, you decided to go to college, get a medical education and become a nurse within the Navy and funnily enough, it led you to meet your boyfriend Jake Seresin.

After a few years of moving around from base to base, even helping on certain deployments, You found yourself getting a permanent position in Top Gun’s medical centre, and one day a rather handsome aviator had been brought in after an ejection during his training session. You had heard him outside your office insisting he was fine and didn’t need any sort of evaluation but the second he walked in and locked eyes with you, he never wanted to leave the room. He started coming to your office complaining of various minor things like headaches and stomach pain so that he could have a ten-minute conversation with you. You had somehow unknowingly made Jake uncharacteristically nervous, and it took him a few unneeded visits to your office to get the courage to ask you out for drinks.

And from there your relationship blossomed.

Two years later and you still hadn’t yet told your brother of your relationship with Jake. You truthfully didn’t communicate enough to warrant telling him such information. You knew he was busy with his career in the LAPD and you were always up to your eyeballs in various Navy personnel and their ailments. But part of you wished that he’d respond to your texts and calls instead of only contacting you when he saw fit.

“Hey, Darlin’. I was thinking we could head to the Hard Deck for some drinks tonight.” Jake muses from where he is lounging on the couch, his eyes flicking up from his phone screen to look over at you as you enter the house, kicking your shoes off at the door.

“What did Bradley challenge you to this time?” You ask with a laugh, entering the living room as Jake gets up from the couch, meeting you halfway, sweeping you into his arms and pressing a delicate kiss upon your lips.

“Why do you always assume Bradshaw challenged me to something?” Jake asks lightly, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he pulls you ever so slightly closer.

“Because you either go to the bar straight from work. Or you get home and start texting the Daggers and then one thing leads to another and you’re asking to go to the Hard Deck because someone, usually Bradley, has challenged you to something and you’re incapable of saying no.” You say with a smile, watching as Jake rolls his eyes jokingly.

“It was a pool match,” Jake reveals, smirking at you.

“Told you.” You say, raising an eyebrow as you pat Jake’s chest.

“So… are you coming?” Jake asks with a raised eyebrow, testing the waters.

“Of course, I’ll come. Can’t support my boyfriend from home can I?” You say, smiling at Jake before he leans in for another kiss.

“Perfect. Because I need my good luck charm.” Jake whispers against your lips softly both of you smiling as you pull away.

“I better get changed.” You say, pressing one last kiss to Jake’s lips before heading upstairs to shower and change into something. You pick out one of your favourite outfits, put it on and admire yourself in the mirror with a smile before you finish getting ready and heading downstairs to join Jake who smiled widely.

“Lookin’ gorgeous, Darlin’.” He says, already grabbing the keys to his truck and gesturing for you to come with him, letting you take his hand with a grin. Jake leads you out to his truck, opens the door for you, and lets you get comfortable in the passenger seat before closing the door after you. He then rounds the truck and gets behind the wheel to begin the drive to the Hard Deck. As soon as Jake pulls out of the driveway, one of his hands naturally comes to rest on your thigh, and both of you are unable to stop the smiles widening on your faces.

Pulling up at the Hard Deck always filled you with excitement. The nights were never repetitive and you loved watching the aviators and their friendly competitions as they’d attempt to win free drinks from each other, only stopping when the familiar sound of the bell rang out, signalling a free round from the person who ignored Penny’s rules. As you entered the familiar bar, you smiled at the familiar patrons, giving them friendly nods as you passed them by before you made your way over to where the rest of the Daggers were hanging out by the pool table.

“So, you didn’t run away then?” Bradley teases from where he was leaning against the pool table, pool cue in hand as you and Jake approach the group.

“In your dreams, Bradshaw.” Jake retorts, scoffing lightly as he takes the spare cue from Javy’s outstretched arm.

“I’m going to grab us some drinks. Do you want a beer? I’ll drive tonight if you want.” You offer, resting your hand on Jake’s shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze as he smiles at you.

“You sure you’re okay driving? I can go one night without drinking if you want a couple of drinks, Darlin’.” Jake then says, his eyes scanning yours for answers as you nod.

“I’m fine to drive tonight. I’ll have just as much fun without the alcohol.” You say reassuringly, shifting your hand to pat Jake’s chest before turning on your heels and heading over to the bar, greeting Penny with a smile and ordering a drink for yourself and Jake. Once you get both drinks, you make your way back over to Jake who is beginning to set up the pool table with Bradley, both of them exchanging friendly teasing as they prepare their game.

“Just on time. Are you ready to see me kick Bradshaw’s ass?” Jake boasts, taking the beer bottle from you as Bradley rolls his eyes behind Jake’s back.

“Two years of dating and you can’t make Hangman less of an asshole?” Bradley asks, glancing over at you as you shake your head with a shrug.

“It’s a work in progress.” You reply, a teasing tone to your voice as you briefly glance in Jake’s direction.

“You love it, don’t lie Darlin’,” Jake says with a wink, making you giggle lightly before you lift your drink to your lips to take a sip.

“Can we quit the yapping and start the game? I’ve got good money on this.” Mickey complains, gaining joking glares from the Daggers as Reuben reaches over to slap Mickey on the back of the head lightly.

“Did you really bet on this?” You ask in a hushed tone as you sidle up alongside Mickey, your eyes fixed on Jake as he takes his first shot.

“Yeah. Coyote came up with the idea and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get some money out of him.” Mickey replies, glancing over at Javy who was studying Jake’s moves carefully.

“I take it you bet on Bradley winning then?” You muse lightly, taking another sip of your drink as Mickey nods sheepishly.

“Yeah… sorry,” Mickey admits, making you chuckle and shake your head.

“Don’t apologise. I won’t be the one having to pay up when Jake wins.” You joke, nudging Mickey lightly as he laughs.

“Wanna bet?” Mickey says, raising an eyebrow as you scoff lightly.

“I’m good. I don’t want you to lose too much of your money.” You tease before shooting Mickey a quick wink and crossing over to Jake.

“Hey, Darlin’, what were you and Fanboy talking about?” Jake asks, leaning back against the wall while Bradley readies himself.

“Oh, nothing much. Just finding out about the bets going on.” You reply nonchalantly, leaning into Jake’s side as he wraps an arm around your middle, pulling you close.

“Bets, huh? Are you not getting involved?” Jake asks, looking at you, one eyebrow cocked in amusement.

“I already know you’re going to win. I’d feel too mean taking people’s money on top of that.” You say with a soft smile as Jake lets out a soft chuckle.

“You’re too good, Darlin’. I’d be taking advantage of my incredible skills to win all the bets I could.” Jake jokingly brags, kissing the top of your head as you laugh, lightly elbowing Jake in his side.

“Hey, Hangman. If you’re done flirting, it’s your turn.” Bradley calls over to Jake, watching your interaction with an amused grin.

“And he has the audacity to call me an asshole when he’s the one disturbing my time with my girlfriend,” Jake whispers against the shell of your ear, his breath tickling your ear as he squeezes your waist slightly, manoeuvring around you and stepping up to the table to take his next shot as you watch with a smile. You continue to watch the game with a smile, taking small sips of your drink as you watch the game progress. As time passes, you begin to feel flushed, the heat of the bar beginning to feel suffocating so you approach Jake once more, taking his hand softly to get his attention as he smiles at you softly.

“I’m going to step outside for some air.” You say, not missing how Jake’s expression quickly became concerned.

“Are you feelin’ okay?” Jake asks worriedly, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

“I’m fine. It’s just a little hot in here so I just need five or ten minutes outside.” You explain as a cheeky smile makes its way across Jake’s face.

“I knew I was good-looking, Darlin’ but I wasn’t aware I was making the whole bar hotter.” Jake teases, making you roll your eyes as you laugh.

“You’re insufferable.” You joke, making Jake’s grin widen.

“Yet you love me,” Jake says smugly.

“That I do.” You admit quietly, giving Jake a soft kiss before taking a step back and heading out onto the porch of the Hard Deck, the cool air hitting you like a ton of bricks as you sigh in relief. You quietly watch the waves crashing against the sand, taking in the beautiful views of Miramar. After ten minutes of enjoying the cool evening air, you hear the door swing open behind you before a pair of arms wraps around your middle.

“Guess who won, Darlin’?” Jake asks, a large smile on his face as he presses repeated kisses to your cheek.

“Was it Bradley?” You say teasingly, turning in Jake’s arms and smiling at him as he raises an eyebrow in challenge.

“Where did all that faith in me winning go, huh?” Jake replies, his teasing tone matching yours as he pulls you a little closer.

“You know it never went anywhere.” You reply quietly, winding your arms around Jake’s neck as his smile widens, leaning to meet you halfway as your lips connect. One of your hands finds its way into Jake’s hair, running through the short hairs on the nape of his neck as he pulls you impossibly closer, squeezing your waist slightly as he deepens the kiss.

“y/n?!” At the sound of a shocked voice saying your name, you pull away from Jake, looking over in the direction of the voice, and quickly notice your older brother staring at you with a look of absolute shock.

“Tim, what are you doing here?” You ask, moving away from Jake slightly as you turn to face your brother.

“I wanted to come and visit. I thought I could surprise you when I saw you were here and I find this happening?” Tim says, eyes wide as he gestures between you and Jake who subconsciously tightens the arm he wrapped around your waist.

“This is your brother?” Jake whispers, putting two and two together.

“Jake this is my brother, Tim. Tim, this is Jake, my boyfriend.” You say, deciding now was the best time to introduce them.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jake says, a friendly smile on his face as he holds his free hand out towards Tim who glares at the outstretched hand before focusing on you.

“How long have you been together?” Tim asks, an almost accusing tone to his voice as his gaze flicks between you and Jake, watching Jake’s hand slowly drop, returning to his side.

“Two years.” You state proudly, leaning closer to Jake’s side.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Tim questions accusingly, his glare hardening by the second. You were aware of the side eyes you were on the receiving end of from the other patrons of the bar that were out on the porch but with Tim’s accusing tone you couldn’t help but stoop to his level and continue to argue.

“I’m a big girl now Tim. I don’t need to tell you everything. We barely talk enough as it is. I don’t expect you to tell me when you get into a relationship-”

“If you were newly dating him I’d understand why you weren’t ready to tell me, but two years? I thought you’d at least have the decency to tell me by now.” Tim interjects, his anger rising.

“Would you have even cared to pick up the phone if she rang? I may not know the ins and outs of your relationship but every time y/n calls I’m the one watching when her face falls when she gets no response.” Jake says angrily, dropping his hand from your waist so he can take a protective step forward, manoeuvring himself in front of you slightly to shield you from Tim’s lethal glare.

“Did I ask for your input? This is between me and my sister.” Tim says lowly, stepping closer to Jake who clenches his jaw, his hands balling up into fists but holding himself back.

“When you’re being an asshole about something that has quite frankly been none of your business, I’m going to have an input.” Jake snaps, feeling the urge to punch Tim grow stronger and stronger until he feels your hand gently grab his wrist, stepping alongside him.

“Hey, Jake. Why don’t you step inside and hang out with the others and cool off? I think Tim and I are overdue a conversation.” You say softly, your hand drifting from his wrist to his hand, gently prying his closed fist open and interlocking your fingers.

“Are you sure?” Jake asks, his voice quickly becoming soft and gentle as he faces you.

“I’m sure.” You confirm with a nod. At your confirmation, Jake nods softly, pressing a soft kiss upon your lips.

“Get me if you need anything.” Jake then whispers softly, shifting his gaze to give Tim one final warning glare before making his way back into the bar.

“Let’s sit over here.” You say quietly, leading Tim down to one of the benches sat just by the sand. Both of you settle onto the bench, watching the ocean quietly for a moment before you let out a small sigh.

“So why are you here? How did you even find me?” You ask, struggling to believe that Tim came just purely for the reason of it being a surprise visit. That just wasn’t in Tim’s character.

“I still have you on that phone tracking app. I check on it sometimes… I also wasn’t lying about it being a surprise visit. But… someone did push me to visit. She said something about not distancing myself from you. You’re the only family I have left and I was wrong to barely communicate with you.” Tim says, glancing at you, a soft expression not many get to see on his face.

“I’ve missed you. It used to just be us against the world but that stopped so quickly I don’t think I was ready for the change.” You whisper softly, a ghost of a smile on your face as you look at your brother. 

“I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been handling communication with you over the last few years.” Tim apologises, already prepping himself for you to reject his apology.

“It’s okay. I can imagine life in the LAPD keeps you on your toes.” You say softly, reaching out and resting your hand on Tim’s shoulder.

“It’s not an excuse. What if you had needed me? Did you need me at all?” Tim asks, concern all over his face as you nod lightly.

“Things get a little lonely while Jake’s on deployments. But I can handle it.” You assure softly, frowning lightly when Tim shakes his head.

“I should’ve been there for you,” Tim says apologetically as you take your hand off his shoulder, resting it in your lap as your frown becomes a soft, reassuring smile.

“Well, you can start now, right? We can make more of an effort to meet up and talk.” You offer gently, watching as Tim nods, a small smile of his own making its way onto his face.

“We can. So… how did you and Jake meet?” Tim asks, smoothly changing the subject as you roll your eyes jokingly.

“If you must know, he came into my office after an ejection for a check-up. I heard him from a mile away complaining about how he didn’t need to be there in the first place but he changed his tune as soon as he came into my office.” You explain, chuckling fondly as you relive the memory of meeting Jake for the first time.

“And he’s treating you well?” Tim then enquires, wanting to make sure you were happy with Jake.

“I’ve never been happier with anyone than I have been with Jake.” You admit with a smile, watching as Tim nods, clearly happy that you were happy.

“Have you got anyone?” You then ask curiously, not missing the way your brother’s eyes widened slightly and a slight blush crossed his cheeks before he nodded slightly.

“I do yeah… her name is Lucy. She’s actually the one who talked me into coming to visit. You’d probably love her.” Tim admits, a small smile gracing his face as he talks about Lucy.

“I might have to come to LA so I can meet her. It’s only fair since you’ve met Jake.” You say, your smile widening as Tim lets out a breathy laugh.

“Hey, I feel like I owe Jake an apology. I was pretty rude to him and I’d like to meet him properly.” Tim then says, becoming more serious as you nod and get to your feet.

“Come on. We’ll head in and you can properly get acquainted with Jake.” You say as Tim stands up alongside you, following you into the Hard Deck, and you expertly manoeuvre your way through the various patrons until you find Jake with the other Daggers by the pool table. Upon noticing you approaching, Jake lights up, swiftly crossing to you and bringing you into his arms, noticing Tim over your shoulder and fighting back a frown.

“Is everything okay with you guys?” Jake asks quietly, pulling back to look you in the eye.

“Everything’s good. We’ve talked it out and Tim wants to get to know you so make an effort please?” You ask, your hands moving to rest on both of Jake’s shoulders as his hands drift to your waist.

“I was willing to make an effort at first but then he was a dick to you,” Jake says with a slight frown, his gaze flicking to glance at Tim who was awkwardly mingling away from the group before focusing on you.

“Tim knows he owes you an apology. Just meet him halfway.” You request softly, watching as Jake sighs lightly before nodding.

“For you, I’ll try. But if he’s an ass to you again we’re heading home.” Jake says before you give him a soft reassuring kiss, hoping both Tim and Jake are able to form some sort of friendship. After pulling away from the kiss, Jake heads over to Tim, as you follow behind.

“y/n said you wanted to talk?” Jake says, folding his arms across his chest as Tim nods.

“I wanted to apologise for the way I acted earlier. It wasn’t right of me to be so rude to you for no reason.” Tim apologises, studying Jake’s expression, briefly glancing at you as Jake remains stonefaced.

“It wasn’t just me you were a dick to.” Jake states simply, making you speak up.

“He’s already apologised to me, Jake.” You say quickly, defending your brother from Jake’s potential anger.

“You’re right. I was rude to y/n too and that wasn’t okay either. We’ve talked it out and we’ve agreed that we’ll make an effort to communicate and meet up more.” Tim explains, his gaze flicking between you and Jake who nods slightly.

“I better not find out you stop talking to her after this,” Jake says, watching carefully as Tim shakes his head.

“I won’t let myself. I don’t want to lose my sister.” Tim says, looking over at you and smiling softly which you mirror, the action finally getting Jake to soften.

“Okay. Fine. Let me buy you a drink and we can talk properly. Darlin’, are you good to stay with the others while we talk?” Jake says, at first directed to Tim before he turns to face you, watching you carefully as you nod.

“I’ll be fine. You go and talk with Tim.” You assure Jake softly, waving him off and watching as Jake leads Tim over to the bar, both of them sitting on a stool as Jake orders drinks before you turn to join the Daggers.

“Here you boys go,” Penny says, placing the two beers down on the bar counter, watching as they each take a beer with a nod after they pay for their drinks before focusing on other customers.

“So, y/n said she met you after you went through an ejection. That makes you an aviator, then?” Tim asks, after taking a sip of his beer, watching as Jake nods.

“Yeah, I am. That group over there with y/n is my squadron. We’ve been a permanent squadron just longer than I’ve known y/n.” Jake replies, glancing over at you laughing with the Daggers.

“I used to be in the Army. I served on a couple of tours myself.” Tim says as Jake turns around to face him, smiling.

“At least you had the sense to get out of there. I’m glad y/n was smart enough to join us in the Navy.” Jake says teasingly, chuckling as Tim quirks an eyebrow.

“If that helps you sleep at night,” Tim says with a laugh, lifting his beer bottle to his lips and taking a sip.

“I mean I sleep very well at night. Especially considering-”

“You know what, you can end that sentence there.” Tim quickly says, holding his free hand up, grimacing at the thought of what Jake was going to say.

“Alright, alright,” Jake says with a laugh, holding his hands up in surrender as Tim rolls his eyes.

“You know. y/n told me how happy you make her. I’m glad she has someone like you.” Tim admits quietly, but somehow Jake hears him, instantly softening, his eyes flicking across to you as the corners of his lips tug up in a small smile.

“I don’t deserve her. She makes me so unbelievably happy. So I’ve made it my mission to make her as happy as she makes me.”  Jake replies, his voice quiet as he turns back to face Tim who nods in some semblance of approval.

“I can tell you both love each other. But if she ends up telling me you did something to break her heart I won’t be afraid to hurt you.” Tim says, suddenly becoming serious as Jake nods.

“Well, the same can be said for you. If I find out you’ve cut communication with her again or are just being an all-around shit brother, it won’t just be me tracking you down. It’ll be those guys too. They love her just as much as I do.” Jake says pointing over at the Daggers who were all far too busy chatting with you and playing darts and pool to notice Jake pointing them all out as a warning to Tim.

“You’re very protective over her. I appreciate that. And I won’t fuck up. I won’t let myself lose my sister.” Tim says, nodding when Jake glances back over at him.

“Of course I’m protective. y/n is the love of my life. But I also know she can hold her own if she needs to. I know what you mean though. I’m an older brother as well, it would be hard for me to handle seeing my sister with a partner because well… she’s my little sister I want to make sure she’s safe from any heartbreak.” Jake admits, thinking of his younger sister and how he’d react if he went to visit her one day and found out she was dating someone.

“You’re a good guy, Jake,” Tim says, offering a hand out towards Jake who smiles before grasping his hand, shaking it firmly.

“You’re not bad yourself Tim. I think we’ll get along.” Jake says, releasing Tim’s hand and moving to hold his beer bottle up in an act of cheers. Tim gently taps his bottle against Jake’s before the two men exchange a nod, solidifying a friendship.

“How has it been going over here?” You ask, getting the attention of both Tim and Jake as you stand alongside Jake.

“I think we’re going to get on well, Darlin’,” Jake says with a reassuring smile, his free hand grabbing yours and squeezing softly, pulling you a little closer.

“Good, I’m glad. I didn’t want to have to break up a bar fight or something.” You laugh as both men’s jaws drop in mock shock, both of them insisting that they’d never do such a thing.

“You picked a good guy, y/n,” Tim says with a soft smile, nodding in approval as you smile gratefully in return.

“Thank you, Tim. I’m so glad you came to visit. Even if it was a surprise and we argued at first.” You admit with a soft laugh as both Jake and Tim nod with laughs of their own.

“I’m glad I came too. Look, as much as I’d love to stay longer, I might need to head home. I’ve got an early start tomorrow and I don’t want to get caught in traffic.” Tim says, noticing how you frown slightly before you nod, understanding why he needs to go.

“Okay. Text me when you’re home. I’ll have to find time to come and visit you in LA.” You say as Tim stands up, moving to hug him tightly.

“I’d love to have you come visit me in LA. I’ll keep in touch.” Tim says, squeezing you softly before releasing you. When you step back, Jake shakes Tim’s hand.

“I’ll see you around, Tim,” Jake says with a smile.

“Definitely,” Tim replies, releasing Jake’s hand, both of them nodding at each other before stepping back, letting you lead Tim to the door to say one last goodbye, watching as he gets into his truck and drives off to head back to LA. After Tim has driven off, you make your way back into the bar and over to Jake who sweeps you up into his arms, holding you close.

“Thank you for everything tonight.” You whisper only audible to Jake who moves to kiss your temple softly.

“You don’t need to thank me. I did nothing. I’m just glad you and Tim have been able to make amends.” Jake says with a soft chuckle, hugging you a little closer.

“You supported me and tried to get to know my brother even if you almost punched his lights out earlier.” You say, pulling back enough so you could look Jake in the eye, your hands gliding up to his shoulders and winding around his neck, fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

“For you, I’d do anything,” Jake replies softly, leaning in closer as you mirror his actions, leaning in until your lips connect, kissing softly, not caring about the things going on around you.

“We definitely need to plan a trip to LA. Tim told me he has a girlfriend and I need to meet her.” You mumble as you pull away, hearing Jake hum lightly in response before the reality of what you said sinks in and his eyes widen.

“Wait. Tim has a girlfriend?”

Top Gun tags (comment or ask to be added):

@malindacath @kmc1989

[hallietblr]

Omg! I love your writing! You write Conrad so perfectly. Can I please request one with Conrad Fisher where the reader and Conrad are best friends but everyone knows that they love each other because they’re always touchy and affectionate with each other. They even have cute nicknames for each other and everyone else just wants them to get together already. Your blog is amazing ❤️✨

orange bikini, the marina, and ray bands | c.fisher x reader

a/n: thank you so much for the request love! i had a lot of fun writing it, i hope you enjoy <3

warnings: fluff

—

summers were always unforgettable. maybe because you got to spend every moment of it with your best friends. as a local in cousins, you watched different families come and go every summer — only a few of them being regular summer visitors. for example, the fisher and conklin families.

susannah fisher was such a bright light to the lives of the locals, bringing charity events to cousins every summer along with invested a lot of money into the country club. as for her sons, they were just like her. both conrad and jeremiah were bundles of sunshine, like a warm hug, or maybe a refreshing glass of lemonade on a hot summers day.

i had immediately bonded with conrad when i first met him when i was eight and he was ten. we met at the beach and instantly clicked. i soon was introduced to his younger brother, jeremiah, and two family friends, belly and steven. although i spent just as much time with the rest of them as i did with conrad, somehow him and i were always the closest.

despite the small age gap between us, we were like two peas in a pod.

i always looked forward to june since it indicated the start of summer, when my best friends return back to their summer home. i do have close friends here at cousins who are also locals, but the conklin and fisher siblings bring a new sort of fun to my life.

now that i’m sixteen, i stand at the marina dock, working alongside my friend cam. we both got internships with the marine biology department for the summer. i was laughing as cameron shook his brunette curls dry from water from the dive we just came back from. the droplets of water landing on me and my orange bikini.

“cameron!” i squeal, pushing him away, “i swear to god i’ll throw you off this deck if you continue to shower me”

he laughs as he steals my beach towel to dry himself, “you know you love it.”

i roll my eyes before they land on a very familiar red jeep wrangler that parks by the dock. i lift my ray bands off the bridge of my nose and place them on top of my head, i squint harder to see if it was who i thought it was. as the driver door opens, my favourite 6’2 dirty blonde boy steps out — conrad fisher.

he sees me staring at him while standing in just my bikini before a large smile paints across his face. i don’t even notice jeremiah stepping out from the passenger seat as i start running sprinting towards conrad.

he meets me halfway, where the dock began. “oh my god!” i exclaim as i jump into his muscular football player arms. my arms wrap around his neck and legs around his waist as i hug him tightly. he smells like sea salt, coconut sunscreen, and a hint of weed.

conrad has his arms holding my torso as he spins us in circles, “hey beautiful, did you miss me?”

“more than anything” i tell him, lifting my head from the crook of his neck, “you know, nine months is too long to be away from you”

“you say that every year, sunshine” he chuckles, carefully placing me back onto my birkenstock covered feet. his green eyes flicker from my sunkissed face to my chest for a split second.

i feel myself blush at it. he’s grown up a lot since i last saw him in august. his shoulders are broader, his biceps are larger, and his hair is longer. i smile sweetly at him, “because it never changes.”

“alright that’s enough from you two lovebirds. you look great in orange, y/n!” jeremiah compliments me as he pulls me into a squeeze hug, “how are you?”

i hug him tightly, “i’m doing great! cameron and i have been busy since school ended with this marine biology internship — but we get to be by the ocean all day so i’m not complaining!”

jeremiah grind his infamous smile, “sounds like fun! you know, steven and i are working at the country club this summer. time to make some bank!”

i giggle before pulling the brothers into a group hug, “ugh, i’m so happy you guys are finally back! when are belly and steven coming?”

“tomorrow afternoon,” conrad says as we all pull apart. i motion them to follow me down to the dock,

“i want you guys to meet one of my best friends,” i explain as cameron looks up at us and offers a smile, “this is cam, well, cameron. he just moved here last september and we’ve been hanging out since. you know, he’s just as interested in marine biology as i am!”

little did i know, cameron having his arm hanging around my neck ignited a small spark in conrad’s stomach at the sight. conrad gives a weak smile, meanwhile jeremiah daps cam up,

“what’s good, cam cameron! i’m jeremiah” he laughs, “you know, you’re making my brother conrad jealous right now. you have your hands on his future wife”

cam’s eyes go huge, “oh shit! are you two dating? y/n, you never told me you have a boyfriend! that’s my bad, bro.” he quickly apologizes and removes his arm from my shoulders.

“fuck off, jere” conrad says to his younger brother.

i smack jeremiah’s shoulder playfully, “i do not have a boyfriend, i don’t know why jere is making up bull”

“you mind as well be married at this point, considering the amount of hours you two spend texting each other.” jeremiah shrugs as he picks up my colourful printed backpack, “let’s head back to our place, cam you can come too”

cam thanks jeremiah but turns down the offer due to being needed back at his home. the two exchange instagrams so they can make plans later in the summer. with that, cameron runs off to his bike and waves us all goodbye.

conrad and my eyes meet and i can’t help but feel my heart rate pick up at the eye contact. i know i’ve always thought conrad was cute and was more drawn to him, but this felt a lot more different compared to the previous summers together.

i called shotgun as we all raced back to the wrangler, jeremiah pouting as he sits in the back seats. i plug my phone in for aux and start playing my new summer playlist that i just started making.

what once was by hers starts playing loudly from the car stereo as the windows are down and rooftop of the jeep was removed. the sweet summer breeze flowing through the car and our hairs as we all sing our hearts out. conrad has a hand on my knee, massaging it with his thumb while he drives. i try to surprise the butterflies and the heat rising to my cheeks at his actions.

as he parks the car at the familiar white summer home, we all jump out as conrad exclaims to race to the kitchen. he claims that whoever is last is getting thrown into the pool first.

the two fisher boys had an unfair advantage because of their longer legs, thus being able to take longer strides. we make it into the kitchen where susannah stands, smiling her golden smile,

“y/n! sweetheart, look at you!” she coos, pulling me into a warm embrace. she smells like roses and fresh laundry as i hold her tightly, she whispers into my ear, “so when are you and connie making it official? i know how you two feel about each other and he speaks of you so often at home.”

i flush at her comment but smile on response, “it’s so good to see you, susannah.”

she caresses my cheek, “i swear, you get more and more gorgeous every time i see you. plus, that orange bikini top looks absolutely fabulous on you.”

“i look just the same as last summer,” i laugh, “and the summers before that.”

she rolls her eyes playfully, “oh sweetie, don’t brush off my compliments. i mean it, you are glowing! don’t you think, connie?” she asks, looking over at her older son who already has a slight blush across his cheeks.

he smiles, “yeah, yeah you do.”

jeremiah grabs my wrist and pulls me away from his mom, “stop trying to avoid you fate, y/n! time to get thrown into the pool!” he grins, tugging me towards the sliding glass doors.

i squeal as the two both have grips on my arms as i try my best to free myself, “oh, come on! at least let me take off my shorts and ray bands!”

they surprisingly allow me to do so, before conrad grabs my wrists and jeremiah grabs my ankles.

“1…” they count together, starting to swing me back and forth by the edge of the pool.

“2…” i squeeze my eyes shut, preparing myself for the cold pool water.

“3!”

i scream as i’m thrown into the air before splashing into the chlorine water. i swim to the surface of the water with a cheeky idea in mind, i grab a hold of my left ankle and distort my facial feature in discomfort,

“shit!” i cry out, taking a breath from being under water for a moment too long.

conrad immediately straightens up at the sight, “baby, what happened? are you okay?” he panics.

“y/n, are you good?” jeremiah asks, the two having obvious concern laced in their facial expressions.

i shake my head and fake a sob, “i think i sprained my ankle at the bottom of the pool.”

in seconds, conrad removes his burgundy tee shirt in one swift movement before diving into the water. his strong arms lifting me and bringing my legs to wrap around his waist, “fuck, i’m so sorry, pretty girl.” he breathes out, planting two kisses on my forehead, “let me see it.”

he swims us over to the edge of the pool where jeremiah once stood before he left to grab towels and an ice pack. conrad lifts me up effortlessly onto the pool side, beginning to inspect my left ankle,

“wait,” he pauses, noticing no swelling nor bruising.

i couldn’t hold in for much longer before i broke into laughter, “i’m sorry! you should’ve seen the look on your pretty face!”

his worry drops before splashing me with water, “you’re so lucky that i love you.”

i stop laughing and wipe my face dry from water before looking at him, “w- what?”

conrad’s eyes widen at the accidentally confession, “i mean… as a friend of course!”

my heart feels a slight tug at the correction but i smile weakly. why would he love me in the way that i feel towards him? i awkwardly laugh before kicking water back at him, and jumping back into the pool.

“ok good, i got worried for a second” i lie, swimming towards him. his hands subconsciously hold onto the curves of my hips, his green eyes looking deep into mine.

i known him for what feels like forever and i can read him like an open book, well typically. but right now, his expression is unreadable. i’m distracted by him, his hands on me, the explosion of butterflies in my gut, and my heart beating loudly in my ears.

his hand cups my cheek, both of our eyes fluttering close as he pulls me closer to his face. i can feel the slight minty feeling of his breath on my lips before,

“i got the ice!” jeremiah yells, with a loud slam of the glass door which caused conrad and i to jump away from each other.

we almost kissed.

i cant even look at my best friend right now, embarrassed with the bright pink colour of my cheeks as i swim over to jeremiah, “thanks” i say quietly, pretending to ice my ankle.

i watch conrad get out of the pool and dismiss himself to his room,

“did something happen?” jeremiah asks, completely lost and confused of the situation.

[dfortrafalgar]

Special Delivery

(Sanji x Fem!Reader)

Red-Leg Zeff wakes up to surprising visitors.

You can read Part 1 here! Original AO3 link

Days on the open ocean were long and monotonous.  It was a decent struggle to keep track of the sunrises and sunsets, but Red-Leg Zeff had developed a system, very recently at that.

Next to a parchment letter and three photographs he nailed to the wall of his captain’s quarters, he tacked up a separate piece of paper and made a tally mark for each day that passed since he received the small parcel.  Each day that went by was another day of inwardly hoping to see the image of the Thousand Sunny off the deck of the Baratie.  It was wishful thinking, and Zeff was a level-headed man, not one for futile hopes or daydreaming, but could you blame him?  He had a grandchild and a daughter-in-law, all things considered, anyway.

The three photographs that Sanji had sent in the package were what greeted him every time he awoke, and were the last images he saw behind his eyelids as he shut in for sleep.  As the days turned into weeks, and then months, and now well over a year according to his tallies, and as Zeff’s braided facial hair continued to slowly turn gray at the roots, the pictures stayed the same.

Like clockwork, Zeff rose from his stiff mattress before the sun rose in the morning, stretching his aging muscles and groaning.  He gazed off across the room at the photos hung on his wall.

“Good morning, Sa–”

“CAPTAIN ZEFF, YOU’RE NEEDED ON THE BOW.”

Patty’s booming voice outside the thin wooden door sent a startled shockwave through Zeff.  He jumped and yelped at the commotion.  Followed by the command, a pounding on the door caused the blonde man to grumble and stomp across his small cabin towards the noise.  He swung open the door, right before Patty threw his fist into the wood for the hundredth time.

“What in the fresh hell do you want?  You’re gonna wake up the whole crew, you oaf.”  Zeff rubbed two calloused fingertips against the bridge of his wrinkled nose.

Eagerly, with a light in his eyes, Patty waved a hand in the direction of the ship’s bow.  “There’s a large vessel spotted approaching from northwest, about ten miles away.  It looks like a pirate ship but we couldn’t make out the image on the sail.”

Zeff stepped into his one boot and rolled up his pants around his peg-leg, making it easier for him to walk.  He firmly gripped his chef’s cap in his hand as he marched past Patty and closed his door behind the two of them, leading him out to the front of the Baratie.  It took them a few moments to roam down the flights of stairs to the lower deck and dining hall, and upon opening the large double doors to the outer deck, he spotted his kitchen crew huddled around Carne, who firmly gripped a pair of binoculars in his large hands.

“What are you all doing?” Zeff’s voice boomed over the hushed whispers of the kitchen staff, who quickly turned their heads to address their captain.  He pushed past the men and placed a firm hand on Carne’s shoulder, yanking him back slightly and grabbing the binoculars out of his hands, holding them up to his own eyes.

“It’s definitely a pirate ship, Captain, but my eyes are shot,” Carne eagerly noted.  Zeff merely grumbled in response.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the binocular lenses, but when they did he managed to make out a fairly clear picture of a ship in the distance, now well less than ten miles away and approaching quite rapidly.  Definitely a large pirate ship.  It had a very odd looking nautical figurehead, almost like a sunflower he assumed, but his heart leaped into his throat when his blurry eyes focused on the primary sail which flowed outward, fully unraveled and pushing the vessel towards the Baratie.

A simple Jolly Roger, a rudimentary skull and crossbones design, with a peculiar red-banded straw hat placed on the head of the skull.

“Should we man the–” Patty began to ask, before being cut off by Zeff.

“It’s the Straw Hats.  Prepare the mooring ropes and fenders, they’re going to tie up to us.”  Zeff shoved the binoculars back into the chest and hands of Carne, who once again put them to his face and gazed at the sail of the ship.  The rest of the kitchen staff ran to awaken the boat crew and make the necessary preparations for a vessel connection.  

“Sanji?” Patty simply asked, with sudden wonder in his voice.

“Hopefully,” Carne responded, passing the binoculars to his coworker.  “It’s definitely them.  Look at their Jolly Roger.”

Zeff had turned his back to his two right-hand men to help the others prepare the baratie’s starboard side for the tie-up.  Crew men, freshly shaken awake from their slumbers, bustled around the lower deck tossing heavy, tightly coiled ropes to each other, tying them around the deck’s bollards and laying them down to make them easier to access when the Thousand Sunny would pull up alongside.  Zeff quickly found that there wasn’t much for him to do, the sight of his crew excitedly scurrying around as the news of the Straw Hats’ return to the Baratie spread like wildfire from the mouths of the men bringing a fond smile to the old man’s face.

Now within enough distance to the Straw Hats’ ship that they could hear the excited yelling of their captain perched cross-legged on the top of the figurehead, waving his hand in the air.  A few of the other crew members leaned over the side of the ship, excitedly waving to the Baratie crew.  Once close enough, a large, strangely built blue-haired man launched a heavy rope from the deck of the Sunny downwards towards the Baratie’s crew, who grabbed it and began to pull it taught.  An orange-haired woman (Zeff thought she looked familiar) instructed the sails to be furled while the larger men of the ship helped the Baratie’s sailors moor the two vessels together.  A few stragglers from the floating restaurants crew looked through their portholes at the commotion.  Carne and Patty assisted the blue-haired man (were his arms made of metal?) in raising a gangway for the Straw Hats to board the Baratie, but their captain, still donned in the same straw hat that he wore when they first visited the luxury cruiser, wasted no time in launching himself off of the figurehead and landing with a hard thud on the wooden deck.

“Hey, Geezer!”  His smile almost covered his entire face.  “Do you have any food?”

“Luffy, seriously?  Can you not wait a single minute?”

A familiar voice caused Zeff to turn his head.  Through the hustle of the crews finishing their mooring duties, a head of bright blonde hair and a thin trail of gray smoke met the old chef’s view.  He immediately broke out into a fond smile.  Sanji was leaning precariously over the side of the Sunny, any more and he would tip over the side, a large grin on his face.  Next to him was a young woman, a bit shorter than him, with a steady hand placed on his shoulder ensuring that he didn’t fall overboard.  She gazed down at Zeff, and her face broke into a grin just as large as Sanji’s.

He recognized her as the woman in the photographs.  She was just as beautiful in person.

The gangway was successfully tied, joining the two boats together, and the two first mates excitedly welcomed the Straw Hats aboard the Baratie.  The four who had already visited almost five years prior marveled at the impressive renovations done to the vessel.  New decks, refurbished dining and lounging, impressive paintwork on the outer hull.  The same blue-haired man from before (his arms were made of metal!) was starstruck by the craftsmanship of the restaurant and immediately began asking questions to a few of the crewmen.  A green-haired man with three swords on his hip and a shorter man with curly black hair greeted Carne and Patty with excitement, remembering the two of them from their first visit.  The two women from the Straw Hats, with tangerine and black hair, quickly exited the gangway and joined their companions.  Zeff watched curiously as a skeleton donned in formalwear hauled himself over the side of the Sunny, followed by a fishman.  The Straw Hats were a very curious bunch, but he was filled with a giddy, child-like joy at the sight of them all, healthy, fit, and just as excited as his own crew was for the surprise reunion.

Sanji and his wife disappeared from the side of the Sunny, but quickly reappeared.  Sanji was the first to step onto the gangway before turning around and taking something from his wife, who swiftly followed his lead.  She looked like a natural on the water, and Zeff hummed, pleased.  Sanji turned around to march down the ramp, a child held in his arms, tightly gripping his shirt in her fist.  The two were the last to disembark, and immediately headed toward the Baratie's captain, who stood in mild shock as the three approached.

Sanji passed the child back to his wife so he could greet Zeff with a handshake, but he was beaten by the captain’s speed as he enveloped the smaller man in a bear hug, almost lifting him off his feet.

“Sanji,” he muttered, voice quivering.  “You look incredible.”

“Hey, no crying on me now, Zeff,” Sanji returned the gesture in kind, squeezing his adopted father back and jostling the hat on the older man’s head.  

The two released their warm embrace, and Sanji held out a hand towards his wife and the child in her arms.  The woman stepped forward with a warm smile.

“Red-Leg Zeff, it’s an honor to finally meet you!” she said with profound enthusiasm before introducing herself.  “Sanji’s been talking nonstop about this visit and how excited he’s been to see you again!”

Sanji flushed, embarrassed, but Zeff could only muster a hardy laugh.  He remembered Sanji as a stubborn, hard-to-crack kid, endlessly determined and stopping at nothing to get his way, and the man who stood before him was all of that and more.  He was gazing tenderly at his wife, cheeks rosy with embarrassment and adoration, a smile adorning his thin lips.  Zeff was beyond proud of the man Sanji had become.

“So, who’s this little one?” he asked, cautiously approaching the child in the woman’s arms.  His heart fluttered at the sight of her.

She had wavy, strawberry blonde hair and her dad’s ocean-blue eyes.  A mixture of her mom and dad’s skin tone, and she was clearly developing Sanji’s facial features.  The right corners of her eyebrows had a very slight upward curl.  She was beautiful, and her large eyes gazed curiously at Zeff as he approached.

“Sora, this is your grandfather,” the woman said affectionately.  “Say hi!”  She bounced the baby on her hip.  

When she came to the infantile conclusion that Zeff was indeed not a threat, her chubby cheeks wrinkled with a smile revealing a few barely there baby teeth.  Zeff held out one of his thick, calloused fingers, and she eagerly reached for the man.  Sanji’s wife passed the baby, Sora, over to him, and he held her like a delicate porcelain pot, like she could break at any moment.  Sanji watched the action fondly.

“Her name is Sora, she’s almost two now,” he said, his voice light and airy, almost a whisper.

Zeff bounced Sora, his granddaughter, in his arms, and she released a shrill giggle which brought a smile to his face.  “Sora…”  He knew that was Sanji’s late mother’s name.  It seemed only natural that his daughter would take the honor of bearing her name.  “She’s beautiful,” he sighed, looking at his son and daughter-in-law.  

Sanji looked like he was fighting back tears at the sight of his honorary father holding his daughter.  His wife gently squeezed his hand, and the floodgates leaked, making her chuckle.

“He’s been a bit nervous,” she said toward Zeff.

The gruff captain stepped toward his son and ruffled his smooth blonde hair in his free hand.  Sanji sniffled, picking his head up and wiping his eyes on his sleeve.  His shoulders trembled slightly with the motion of his repressed crying, but he quickly shoved it down and locked eyes with the fatherly ones staring at him.  Zeff didn’t need to ask any questions to know how much a moment like this meant to Sanji.  A child so wronged by his family and the world, growing up with no purpose, no encouragement, losing the one source of love in his life, forced to age so rapidly to survive some of the worst experiences a human should ever have to face.  To have been blessed with a crew that cared for him, fulfilling his dreams, practicing his passion, meeting one special woman who loved and supported him, and being the father of his own child, Sanji was finally content.  He was finally happy, finally content.

Zeff’s voice cracked as he uttered the sentence that he knew would make Sanji crumble.  “I’m so proud of you, son.  Look at how far you’ve come.”

Sanji’s blue eyes welled with tears that he had been holding in since his own childhood.  The commotion from the rest of the two crews faded into a muffled static as Zeff pulled Sanji’s head into his chest, holding him close.  Sora’s hand lightly smacked the top of Sanji’s hair, making him laugh, but it came out as a crackled sob.  His wife laughed, rubbing his back.

“I didn’t want to cry,” he uttered into Zeff’s chest, voice blank with slight resentment.  

“It was inevitable,” you responded with a humorous lilt.

“I know.”  He easily relented to your words, picking his head up from Zeff and placing a hand on his father’s shoulder, giving it a firm smack.  “Sorry for getting your shirt all wet, old man.”

Zeff’s chest bounced with the force of his laughter.  “You’re gonna pay for it, kid.  You’re on dish duty.”

Sanji’s mouth fell open in a panicked retaliation, but after realizing Zeff was, in fact, joking around, his tense shoulders fell in relief.  Sora reached back out toward her mom, who took her from Zeff’s grasp leaving both his hands free again.  He was able to deliver a quick, encouraging slap on Sanji’s back.

“I do expect you to help prepare this feast, though.  Show me how much you’ve improved since you left.”  He winked at his son.  “Though, I doubt you improved that much.”

“Shut up, old man!  I’ll make you the best feast you’ve ever laid eyes on.  A feast that could kill you!”  Old habits die hard, and the family meandered towards the rest of the crew, who were now milling around the lower dining hall excited for a meal to celebrate the Straw Hats’ return, and Zeff’s new granddaughter.

Zeff clapped his hands, alerting his own crew, who frantically took their places around the ship to cater to their pirate guests.  He quickly made his way into his kitchen, rustling through the main pantry for a piece of equipment he hadn’t needed to use in a very long time.  He pulled out a small food processing machine, equipped with an internal blade perfect for mashing fruits and small vegetables.

“Captain, do you need anything?” Patty was rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands in the large wash basin.

“All the fresh fruit we have.  The kid doesn’t have teeth yet, she needs some mush.”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 37

Part 1 Part 36

Between being poked and prodded by doctors, visitors trickle in. Hopper stops by, gruff as he claps Steve on the shoulder. Mrs. Byers pops in too; she hugs him gently, kissing his forehead with warm lips. Something inside of Steve burns.

His Mom doesn’t come. Neither does his Dad. Or Tommy and Carol. Steve wonders what it says about him that no one he knows comes by. From before. Before monsters and strangers made their homes in Steve’s life in equal measure

His life is thin. And everyone is holding it up to the fluorescent hospital lighting and looking right through it. Like his old Hawkins High basketball shirt from Freshman year, worn and washed enough to make the thread loose and thin everywhere but the seams – almost translucent. No one who knows him comes. 

But Eddie never leaves his side.

He’s still there three days into Steve’s hospital stay when Nancy Wheeler shuffles in, Barbara Holland flanking her like a bodyguard. 

Steve shuffles up in his bed, foisting himself up with the multiple pillows Eddie’d stacked behind him earlier. Barbara loiters in the door, light glinting off her glasses almost menacingly as she purses her lips and looks Steve up and down.

“Harrington,” she says, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. 

“Holland,” Steve says, voice still croaky. 

Eddie’s not saying anything, but he’s sitting up in his seat now, staring fixedly at Nancy as she does the same. Neither of them are blinking. He clutches the sheets tightly, wrong-footed.

“Glad you’re not dead,” Barbara says, ignoring whatever Eddie and Nancy have going on.

Steve nods, clearing his throat, looking down at his lap. He tries to run his fingers through his hair, and meets only stubbled skin. It’s just another nail in King Steve Harrington’s coffin. A week in that other place, and it’s hard to put him on, like a fancy suit. But now the suit’s for his own funeral, and he doesn’t know how to talk to anyone who isn’t Eddie or Will.

“I’m sorry about Tommy,” Steve says, blurts involuntarily in the silence. He hears Eddie shift, doesn’t look up from his lap to see how anyone else is reacting. “That wasn’t cool.”

He thinks of Tommy slinging the same curses at Barbara that his Dad slurs at the television screen when he’s three whiskeys deep. Thinks of Barbara’s nasty voice in the Upside-Down, hears her saying, maybe he’s off with his parents, like they’d ever take him anywhere.

Like they’d even realized he was missing. 

“You’re not responsible for Tommy Hagain,” Barbara says, “I don’t give a fuck about Tommy Hagan. I care that you’re friends with such a piece of shit.”

Nancy lets out a sharp, reprimanding, “Barb!” 

Barbara continues, ignoring her friend. “You don’t get a free pass because you tried to get eaten by a monster.”

Steve snorts, looking up at Barbara Holland, really looking at her for maybe the first time. Her jaws clenched, chin held high. She looks like she’s just as likely to deck him as help him with his homework. Tommy Hagain had shouted slurs at her back that could get her killed, lies or not, while Steve made excuses, and she’d still showed up in his hospital room before his best friend. 

Steve looks Barbara in the eyes and says the only thing he can, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

Barbara squints at him judgmentally before rolling her eyes and taking a seat by Eddie’s side. “Whatever, Harrington,” she says, eyeing him critically. “How are the injuries?”

“I’m fine,” Steve says, ignoring Eddie’s scoff. “I’ll be out of here soon–”

“–with required physical therapy–” Eddie interrupts. 

Steve plows on, “–and back to school in no time.”

“–after another week of bed rest.”

“Glad that’s all cleared up then,” Barbara says.

As if Eddie’s attention finally being away from her has made her bolder, Nancy shuffles her way closer, sitting on the foot of Steve’s bed. Everyone else goes quiet. Barbara’s eyebrows are raised as she looks over at her friend, and Eddie looks one second away from lunging out of his chair and ripping out her throat. Clearly, something had happened while he’d been away.

“Steve?” Nancy says, shoulders back, chin raised, as she finally meets Steve’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Steve blinks. “For what?” 

Nancy bites her lip, shifting her gaze to the empty side of the room. “For leaving you at the party,” she says.

“Nancy–”

“And for,” she says, looking down at her clasped hands before looking back up into his eyes. “You were gone, and Jonathan–”

She stops talking abruptly, looking at Steve beseechingly, like he should already know what she’s talking about. He looks over to Eddie, hoping for help, but Eddie’s too busy glaring at Nancy, so he looks over at Barbara, hoping she’ll put him out of his misery.

“Nancy and Jonathan have a thing going on,” she says, mouth pursed again, but this time, like she feels bad for him. It takes him a minute to figure out why.

“Nancy, it’s fine,” Steve says, trying to think of a tactful way to tell her he’d forgotten they were dating at all. “We kissed a few times, that’s all.”

He doesn’t know how to tell her that his life rearranged itself around Eddie Munson and Will Byers, can’t explain the pull – the way she sort of fell away on his list of priorities, without it sounding cruel.

“Really?” Nancy asks, at the same time that Eddie says, “are you serious?”

Steve nods. “Really,” he says, meeting Nancy’s eyes. They’re glittering, and he can almost remember that feeling from before. The euphoria of having Nancy WHeeler’s undivided attention. But then Eddie takes his hand, and it fades back again. “Friends?” He looks from Barbara to Nancy, offering the branch to both girls.

Barbara shrugs, but Nancy smiles, “Friends.”

They don’t stay much longer, both slinking off now that the air’s been cleared. Eddie stays by his side, like he always does.

“You’re really fine with her running off with Big Byers?” he asks. “Just like that?”

Steve rubs the back of his head, grimacing at the way the prickly hairs feel on his palm. “Does it make me an asshole if I forgot we were going out?”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, tangled hair trailing down his back, neck muscles straining. His eyes are twinkling as he answers, “I think just this once, you get a pass.”

It's not long until his next visitors of the day stop by. Luckily, they end up being far more enjoyable. Will comes into the room, standing in front of the door, hand clasped on the doorframe.

A body collides with his back, sending him stumbling forward as his fingers scrabble to keep their grip on the frame.

“Will,” a childish voice whines form behind him. “Let me in!”

Eddie’s laughing at his side as Will smiles sheepishly at them. “I brought the party,” he says, looking at his shoes and then up to Steve’s eyes repeatedly. “They wanted to meet you.”

Steve’s stomach flutters, a weird mix of anxiety and excitement coursing through him. “Uh, okay,” he says, sitting up straighter to try to look over Will’s shoulder and see whoever is trying to get past him into the room.

Will steps to the side, and nerdy kids pour in. The first a gap-toothed kid with curly hair. He smiles broadly at Steve, bouncing up to Steve’s bed. Next is a black kid with an awkward smile, shuffling his feet as he follows his friend over to Steve, rubbing the back of his head. Lastly, is Nancy’s brother. Steve recognizes the chubby cheeks and awkward haircut from the pictures lining the Wheeler’s staircase.

His arms are crossed, and he’s glaring at Steve, but he comes up to Steve by Will’s side.

“Children,” Eddie says, opening his arms magnanimously from his seated position, like he’s welcoming them to his grand castle. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

The curly-haired kid squints at him, “don’t you live in the trailer park?”

Eddie puts his hand to his heart, falling back into the chair like he’s been shot. “You wound me, Henderson,” he says, wobbling his bottom lip like he’s about to cry. “I live to serve my King.”

It’s a joke, he knows it’s a joke, but it curls strangely in Steve’s stomach. Like he’d eaten bad Chinese food but wanted to keep eating more. He decides not to think about it anymore.

“You wanna introduce us?” Steve asks, looking at Will.

Will looks up at him through his bangs, smiling softly. “Steve, this is Dustin,” he says, pointing at the hyper kid with the missing teeth, “Lucas,” gesturing at the awkward smile kid still loitering behind him, “and—”

“Wheeler,” Steve finishes. “You look a lot like your sister.”

Mike grimaces, glaring at Steve. “It’s Mike,” he says.

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. “Will talked about you all,” Steve says. Will smiles bashfully, and Mike’s frown lines lessen, clearly pleased. “Told me all about your adventures.”

Dustin sits familiarly on the edge of Steve’s bed, bouncing with excitement. “Will told us you played D & D with him!” he says, as if that was leagues more impressive than fighting real-life monsters, “and that you kicked Xanthar’s ass!”

Steve’s mind’s still a bit hazy with drugs, but he remembers Will whispering hints conspiratorially into his ear, practically leading him by the hand to his victory roll.

“Beginner’s luck,” Eddie says, reaching over to pat Steve’s thigh. “I’ll get you next time, Stevie.”

That gets Lucas into the mix. “Next time?” he asks, awkward smile turning genuine and excited. Even Mike can’t tamp down the glimmer of interest in his eyes as he leans closer to Eddie. Steve can’t blame him. Eddie’s got this magnetism about him – it either draws you in or repels you back out.

“You’ll play again?” Will asks, enthusiastic.

Eddie leans his elbow on Steve’s bed, and he knows by the sly glance sent his way that he’s in trouble. “I’m in if Steve here is.”

The force of four children sending wide-eyed pleading looks his way is enough to send him huffing back into his pillows. “This isn’t fair,” he says, glaring at Eddie, even as his heart blooms. Eddie just keeps smiling at him. “Fine!” He throws his hands in the air before crossing them in a huff. “But I lost my character sheet.”

Eddie brightens, reaching beneath Steve’s mattress, and pulling something out. It’s a crumpled piece of paper, torn at the edges, and stained. He smooths it out before handing it over to Steve.

Steve looks down at the character sheet Eddie had made for him, his character’s name and stats printed at the time, Steve’s own notes scrawled along the bottom as things had come up.

“I hid it when the scientists started stealing our shit for their tests,” he says, leaning back in his chair, obviously pleased. “I figured a paper originally from the Upside-Down would be right up their alley, so I snagged it for you.”

There’s a lump in Steve’s throat. He pushes past it, muttering a quiet, “thanks,” as he runs shaky fingers over the ragged paper.

As children bicker around him, begging to play right away, Steve looks down at the paper and thinks that Eddie Munson might just be a miracle.

Part 38

[punkshort]

The Stranger

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: An unexpected visitor barges into your new apartment, turning your whole life upside down, then disappears just as quickly. Or does he?

Warnings: infidelity is mentioned (reader gets cheated on by OC), language, threats of violence, heavy making out and some sexy situations but no smut

WC: 3K

A/N: When I wrote this, I had still yet to see The Equalizer 2 but I wanted to write an assassin fic and Dave was just right there. So, for the sake of this story, Dave doesn't have a family and he has a cover job. K bye.

Written for @undercoverpena April Showers Challenge

Collection Masterlist

Sunday Night

The apartment was small and a little dirty, but it would do. It would have to. The choices were limited on such short notice, and beggars can't be choosers.

The last thing you thought you would be doing the night before you started your new job was unpacking what little belongings you had in the middle of a goddamn thunderstorm. In an ideal world, you would have waited to move in when the weather was expected to clear, but when you walked in on your boyfriend of four years naked in your bed with his ex-girlfriend only a week ago, you would have moved in the middle of a blizzard if you had to.

That was how you found yourself late Sunday night drenched in a mix of your own sweat and rain, unpacking the last of your clothes from wet cardboard boxes. Making your bedroom the priority was a must. The last thing you needed on top of everything else was wrinkled clothes and a bad night's sleep for your first day of work.

If only you knew what your night had in store.

You were just starting to unpack the boxes for your bathroom, cursing under your breath when you noticed the towels at the very top and bottom of said box were soaked in rain water, when you heard a pounding on your door so loud, you almost screamed.

Nobody even had your address yet. Too embarrassed to tell your friends what your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend - did, the only people who knew you were moving were your parents, and they certainly wouldn't be blessing you with a surprise visit on this side of town after dark.

Tip-toeing out of your bedroom, your hair a half-dry and tangled mess, you slowly crept towards your door. Just as you were about to peek through the peephole, you heard the deadbolt unlock and the door swung open, only to be stopped by a laughably weak, eight link chain.

"Alvarez, it's me, open up," a gruff voice said through the crack in the door. He sounded panicked, but at least it wasn't a home invasion. This man just didn't realize Mr. Alvarez was no longer here and he must have had a key.

Combing your hair back from your face, you tentatively stepped into the beam of light that stretched into your living room from the hallway. When you locked eyes with your stranger, all dark and mysterious, your throat constricted. You could only see part of his face, just one eye and half of his soft looking mouth, but your heart still fluttered a bit in your chest.

"Who are you?" he frowned, eyeing you up and down, and suddenly you felt incredibly self-conscious standing in your own apartment only wearing your white tank top and sleep shorts.

"Excuse me? I live here. Who are you?" you countered, crossing your arms defensively. The man scoffed and tried to get a better glimpse of your apartment, as if he were expecting another person to emerge.

"Where's Alvarez?"

At that point, you felt a little bad. If this man knew Mr. Alvarez well enough to have a key, what you were about to tell him would be devastating, so you sighed and motioned for him to step back.

"Let me undo the chain," you explained, and he paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on your chest before taking a step back and allowing you to close the door and slide the chain off. When you reopened it, you finally saw all of your mystery man. He was decked out in black: black ski cap, black leather gloves, black jeans and jacket, and he dripped rainwater from each article of clothing, creating a small puddle in the thin carpet right outside your door.

"I'm so sorry, but Mr. Alvarez passed away a few weeks ago," you said sympathetically, and while, in your experience, men tended to be less emotional, you didn't expect his response.

"Well that's just fucking great," he muttered, and for the first time you realized he was out of breath. Red flags began to pop up everywhere: the dark clothes, the indifferent response to a friend's death, the fucking hand hidden behind his back. How didn't you notice that before?

You went to quickly shut your door but his hand shot out and stopped you.

"I'm sorry, but I'm gonna need to come in," he said, and your eyes went wide. Your parents warned you this side of town was bad, but the very first night?

"No!" you protested, putting all your weight into pushing on your door, but he wedged himself so you couldn't close it.

"I left something in here and I need it," he explained through gritted teeth.

"Nothing was here when I moved in," you said, still pushing on the door, "I have my phone and I'm calling the police!"

It was a lie. You didn't have your phone. It was still charging on your bed, but you had hoped that would make the man leave. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.

The door shoved open and you flew backwards, falling onto your back with a yelp, a sharp pain shooting up your spine.

The man entered your apartment and quickly shut the door behind him before glancing around.

"Are we alone?"

You scowled at him, about to lie, but you realized there was no point so you didn't say anything. He sighed and reached out an arm.

"I'm sorry," he said, and for the first time in your brief interaction, you heard some emotion in his voice. You stared hesitantly at his still wet, gloved hand before grabbing it and allowing him to pull you back up as you rubbed the back of your head with a wince. "You okay?" he asked, his brows furrowed and when you realized both his hands were visible, you relaxed a fraction.

"I think so. What the hell? Who are you?"

"I'm-"

He was about to explain when you both heard heavy footsteps running towards your door. In the blink of an eye, he reached forward and slid the chain back into the lock and deadbolted the door. There wasn't a second to spare because two fists began pounding heavily on the door from the other side.

You gasped softly and stepped backwards, eyes wide and filled with fear. That was when your mystery man pulled out the handgun from the back of his pants, silencer already attached, and your mind went blank.

This was how you were going to die.

"Open up!" a man's voice shouted from the other side as he began to kick at the door, making you jump. The intruder turned to you just as a rumble of thunder shook your building.

"You gotta make them leave."

"Me?" you whispered in a panic, "how do you expect me to do that?"

"They want me, and if they know I'm here, they'll kill me. Do you understand?" he asked, matching the volume of your voice while grabbing your shoulders.

Your lower lip began to tremble and he noticed.

"You can do this," he assured you, walking you backwards towards your bedroom as the shouting and pounding got louder. And as you stared into his deep brown eyes, you started to believe him. "I'm gonna hide and then you gotta tell them I'm not here. Can you do that?"

"If they just want you, why don't I just let them have you?" you asked as he continued to walk you backwards.

"Because they'll kill you, too," he said, his gaze never wavering. "These guys don't leave loose ends."

Fear shot through your body like the bolt of lightning outside your window.

Once he got to your bedroom, he released his grip on your shoulders and headed for your closet. He opened the accordion doors and pushed your clothes aside before sliding in against the wall.

"Just convince them I'm not here. You just moved in, you have no idea what they're talking about, okay?" he said, holding your gaze until you slowly nodded. Then he snapped the doors shut and shuffled your clothes around, leaving you all alone.

As you walked back towards your front door, you snagged a towel from the open box of bathroom stuff and wrapped it around your hair. You could do this. You had to.

You took a deep breath, your hand curling around the brass doorknob, and yanked it open, the chain still holding the door in place so you only saw a glimpse of the men in the hall, but you could see at least four.

"Can I help you?" you asked, trying your best to sound annoyed and not scared for your life. "You interrupted my shower," you added, pointing to your wrapped hair.

"Where is he?" the first man asked. His head was bald but you could see some stubble coming through, indicating he must shave his head.

"Who?" you asked innocently, and the man sneered.

"You know who."

"Actually, no I don't," you said, crossing your arms. "This is my apartment and I was enjoying a quiet night in before you arrived."

"Oh, yeah? You wear a men's shoe, size eleven?" the beefy looking guy asked, quirking an eyebrow as he stared down at the floor. Your eyes slowly drifted down and noticed a wet and dirty outline of your stranger's boot pressed firmly into the ancient beige carpet.

"No," you said, meeting his eye again. "But my boyfriend does. And he's out getting us dinner. We just moved in tonight," you told him confidently, squaring your shoulders and fucking praying the chain would hold if push came to shove.

You saw the men behind him exchange glances and shift their weight as they mulled over what you said. It was working. All you could hear was your own heart pounding loudly in your chest, the rain beating heavily against the glass windows of your living room, and in the distance, another soft rumble of thunder.

The bald man shot one more cursory glance into your apartment before meeting your eye.

"Must have the wrong unit."

You smirked.

"Honest mistake," you said, bravely holding his gaze as the group of them slowly ambled back towards the stairs. Once they were out of sight, you shut the door and twisted the lock, letting out a shaky breath. Your arms and legs were weak, head fuzzy from the adrenaline when you remembered a stranger was stuffed inside your closet.

Stumbling back towards your bedroom, you swung open the closet door, breath shallow and fast just to find him leaning up against the wall, a floorboard in your closet removed, revealing a now empty cash box, and holding up a piece of lingerie.

"For your boyfriend?" he questioned, and your fear quickly transformed into anger when you snatched it from his hand and tossed it on the floor next to his feet.

"Get the hell out of here," you told him, voice trembling.

He gave you a cocky smirk and pushed himself off the wall.

Gazing down at you, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes, he lowly asked "got a towel I could use?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced your feet to move towards the open box in the middle of your room, snatching up a clean towel and tossing it to him before pulling your own towel from your head and dropping it by your feet.

You watched for a moment as he plucked the ski cap off his head, revealing a thicket of dark brown, wet hair and used the towel to help flick away the moisture. Then your eyes landed on his gun, now tucked into the front of his jeans.

His gaze followed yours and smirked, thinking you were looking at something else.

"See something you like?" he asked, making you blush.

You swallowed roughly and took a step back. "Are you going to kill me, now?"

His gaze softened and he dropped his towel next to yours.

"No."

You eyed him wearily, still not believing him until he took the gun from his pants and tossed it on your bed, a good five feet away, leaving you both defenseless.

"Better?" he asked, and you raked your eyes up and down his body.

"How do I know you don't have any other weapons on you?"

He grinned and took another step forward, his eyes darkening. "You wanna frisk me?"

Your cheeks flushed with heat and you looked away, but he pinched your chin, the leather soft against your skin, and tilted your head back in his direction.

"Tell me something," he murmured, his eyes boring into yours, "you really got a boyfriend coming back here?"

He could see your face fall and he instantly felt regret.

"No," you said softly, your eyes now pinned to the floor with shame, "we broke up. It's why I just moved in here."

He frowned as he studied your face. "Why did you break up?" he asked, his fingers still gripping your chin.

"Caught him cheating on me," you told him. Why could you tell this perfect stranger your deepest shame but you couldn't tell your best friends?

He tsked and inched a little closer. "He's a fucking idiot."

Your eyes snapped up to his in surprise, only to find desire and need reflected right back.

Before either of you could overthink it, your mouths crashed together, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck and his hands pulling at your waist, dragging you against him as you devoured one another. Your fingers raked through his still damp hair, his skin smelling like the rain and sweat and gunpowder, the combination intoxicating. His tongue slipped past your lips with a groan, his exhale coming in quick, hot puffs against your cheek as he walked you back toward your bedroom wall. Once your body made contact with the chipped paint, he reached down and snagged the backs of your thighs, wrapping your legs around him while his tongue swirled aggressively around yours.

When he ground his hips into you, his hardening length rubbing against the ache between your legs, you gasped and tipped your head back.

"I don't even know your name," you whispered as his lips traveled down your neck, nipping and biting playfully as he went, the rain sounding like little musical notes against your singular bedroom window. He just moaned against your skin, his teeth dragging lightly over your collarbone while you rolled your hips against him, desperately some seeking relief for the fire he started between your legs.

He yanked you from the wall, a small squeak of surprise slipping past your lips, fingers digging into his broad shoulders as he carried you to your bed and dropped you down next to his gun. His assault on your neck never stopped. You arched your back, wishing he would take off those damn gloves so you could feel him when his phone suddenly trilled in his pocket. His lips stalled and you held your breath, each of you frozen in the moment wondering how you managed to find yourselves in such a compromising position so quickly.

"Shit," he whispered, reaching into his pants pocket, and you knew right then and there it was over.

He glanced at the screen and gave you an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry," he said, pushing himself away from you and snatching up his gun and hat. "I gotta go."

You sat up on your bed and pressed your legs together, hoping your face didn't look as red as it felt.

Before he left, he glanced back at you, his eyes falling to your mouth, watching as your teeth sunk anxiously into your lower lip, chin bright red from the burn of his five o'clock shadow.

"Thank you," he said, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching at his side. And before you could respond, he disappeared with just a soft click of your door, making you wonder by morning if you had dreamed him up.

Monday

As expected, you hardly slept. Sleeping in a new place all on its own had its challenges, but after almost dying a handful of times within an hour, a good nights sleep was pretty much out of the question.

You don't know why you did it, but as you were getting ready for work, after a lukewarm shower, you foolishly grabbed the piece of lingerie your stranger discovered in your closet and put it on under your clothes. Maybe you wanted a reminder of him, or maybe you just wanted to feel more confident.

Arriving ten minutes early, the rain drying on the sidewalk but the smell still thick and heavy in the air, you strode up to the front doors of the financial consulting firm, hoping that the amount of coffee you poured down your throat that morning would be enough to keep you at your best.

The perky blonde from HR was showing you around the impressive building as she led you back to the department you would be working with. You were longingly eyeing the fresh fruit in the break room when you turned around and nearly ran smack dab into her back, stumbling a bit in the process.

An apology died on your lips when you found yourself looking past her, gaze falling onto an all too familiar looking man inside an office less than ten feet away, his phone cradled between his shoulder and ear as he typed into his computer, a concentrated look painting his impossibly handsome face. His dark, soft hair was neatly combed, his plush lips twitching into the receiver as his muscular shoulders stretched the fabric of his light blue button down, and when he reached for a file, his eye suddenly catching yours.

Neither of you looked away while he continued to give one word answers over the phone and you barely recognized that the HR girl was showing you your new desk. A desk right outside his office. All you could think about was what his hair felt like between your fingers, what his mouth felt like when he left those marks on your neck you had to cover that morning with makeup.

How he left you, needy and aching for more.

Then your eyes flicked to the shiny name plaque next to his door frame: Dave York.

pt. 2

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[macbethsymphony]

Cherry Girl | Chapter 1

Eustass Kid x Reader

Chapters: [2] [3]

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, eventual smut, slow burn-ish

Chapter wc: 3.8k

Summary: Eustass ‘captain’ Kid was in a shit mood. He was pent-up, irritated and you… you and your pink mini denim skirt wasn’t helping. OR You and Kid obviously pine for each other but you're both idiots.

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3 Wanna read it all? it's completed over there

Chapter 1: The start of an adventure

Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid was in a shit mood. He was pent-up, irritated, and you… you and your pink mini denim skirt wasn’t helping. They weren’t usually this long at sea between islands, it’d been months since the last time they set foot on land, the last time he fucked a pretty girl senseless. The log pose showed signs that they were almost there but at this rate, if it went on much longer, he’d murder someone. The atmosphere on the ship was tense, most of his crew did all they could to keep away from the shadow of his black temper, and that somehow made it even worse. Hell, even Killer kept to the kitchen more than normal. He hated when people tiptoed around him. His teeth gritted in irritation. He was bored and he was horny and this was shit.

His eyes followed you on the deck of his ship. You usually were holed up in the kitchen to help Killer out with cooking duties but today was hot and you were being the nice, useful little thing you were by handing out refreshments to the crew. Kid scowled. You weren’t his type. You were too soft, where he was sharp. Too kind where he was moody. You were, well, too fucking wholesome really. You stood out like a sore thumb with your pink sundresses and mini skirts in his crew full of leather and chains. He liked tall women with supermodel bodies, you were short and round. He liked loud women, women that matched his fucked up energy. He liked his women a little insane. You, you were as adorable as a fucking kitten. Even your fluffy hair flowing in the sea breeze felt like an insult to his gelled-up spikes.

 With a growl of irritation, he stomped back to his workshop. At least he wouldn’t have to hear that cute fucking laugh of yours there. Why the fuck had he even said yes to having you on board of HIS fucking ship again? He wasn’t sure, really. Yes, you were beyond useful. It was nice to have a trained healer on his ship instead of whatever fucking first aid they all knew. And he knew Killer appreciated the extra help in the kitchen. But still, this was shit. He wasn’t this type of man. Not that he’d never fucked anyone in his crew, he didn’t mind that. But you, you were sweeter than honey and he didn’t like sweet. You weren’t his type. He gritted his teeth. If they didn’t get to an island soon, he’d go batshit crazy.

He picked up the goggles he’d been fixing the day before with disinterest as he slouched in his chair. He bet you’d feel real fucking nice sitting on his dick right now. He wondered how soft your plush body would feel under his rough fingers. How you’d sound when you came, maybe he’d eat you out make you come again and again till you reached your limit. The sugary echo of your laugh carried through his door. His scowl worsened. No. He wagered you’d sound even better begging for release after denying it to you for hours. Yes, you’d look good with red lipstick smeared on bruised lips and tears staining your pretty cheeks as you pleaded for him. Implored your captain for release. He tossed his head back against his chair and audibly groaned.

Shit… he bet you’d look amazing in red.

For days you’d lingered near the bustling port, stealing glances at the imposing figure of the Victoria Punk anchored in the harbor. Everyone was curious about the arrival of the pirates, Eustass “Captain” Kid’s bloody reputation was well known even on this outlying island. Most of the townspeople worried whether the pirates would be friendly or if they’d have to defend their home. Others were simply fascinated to have unknown visitors after so many years of….Well, nothing really. 

You’d been born on such a remote island of the grand line that most ships went past without bothering. Pirates never cared as their log pose reset for the next island far before they reached this small patch of land. You weren’t a rich island so the detour wasn’t worth it. As for the Navy, well… even they thought it was too much trouble to offer protection to such a far-removed place.

Your heart had yearned to escape this place for years now. This place you called home felt oppressing, like you couldn’t breathe properly. You wanted to see the world and maybe, just maybe, this ship could allow you to do exactly just that.

At first, you’d planned on manning up and asking the captain himself to let you on. But your resolve had crumbled oh so very fast the moment you’d taken a look at him. He was scary, far too scary. When you’d seen him, standing tall and broad, screaming profanities at one of his crew members, you’d turned back on your heels and run home. Hell, his whole crew made you nervous. They marched through the streets doing whatever chore they were charged with, leather boots stomping on cobblestones, chains rattling and whoever dared look in their direction received a violent scowl. 

Loud uncaring raucous laughter sounded more and more deafening the closer your feet got you to the harbor. You could do it, you tried to convince yourself with empty encouragements. You’d catch the least intimidating person there, make your case, and hope for the best.

You looked around, most of the crew was out and about busy doing their thing. There was a duo talking to each other not too far from you. One of them was tall, probably more than two meters taller than you. The other had long light blue hair and his face was stitched up in weird ways. They must have sensed your inquisitive gaze for they turned to stare at you with a scowl twisting their features. 

Scary. 

No, these two wouldn’t do. 

Your eyes traveled to a single figure sitting on a crate. He was wearing a mask, long blond hair flowing behind him. He wasn’t drenched in leather and spikes like the rest. Apart from his mask, he looked somewhat normal but his presence somehow felt just as intimidating. 

Fuck it. 

You had to do it, this was going to have to be the one. Maybe rejection wouldn’t feel as bad if you couldn’t see his face. You smoothed the ruffles of your pink sundress nervously before marching over to the masked man with a resolute look.

“Excuse me,” your voice caught in the back of your throat, you tried to clear it slightly but it still sounded squeaky. “U-uhm...I couldn’t help but overhear your crew talking about your travels I… I want to see the world too. Would you… would you please consider taking me with you?” 

That was a lie, you’d been too fucking scared to approach anyone close enough to hear jack shit about their travels. But who cared, it was the best line you’d rehearsed in that mind of yours. You observed the masked man expectantly.

His head rose from the papers he was looking at. The mask shifted up and down lightly as you assumed he assessed what you were about. You swung softly from one foot to another in anxiety. You probably should have worn something other than a sundress now that you thought of it. Not that you owned anything more intimidating anyways. 

The silence dragged on uncomfortably.

“I may not look like much, but I’m a trained healer!” you continued, spilling out the pitch you’d practiced over a hundred times in front of your mirror. “While I might not be the best in the field, I can tend to the wounded and I have a good understanding of most illnesses,” your voice went up an octave as your nerves got to you. This was your chance, who knew how many years would pass by again before another ship would dock in this shit place. “I’m also a great cook! S-sooo… I can help with that too if you don’t need another healer. And I’m a quick learner. If you don’t have a need for another cook… I-I’m sure I can learn to be useful in any way you might need,” each word lowered in volume, your nerves were catching up to you. “P-please,” you stuttered delicately. ”I’ll do anything to get away from this island,” your eyes were stuck to the ground too anxious to try and gage his reaction.

“Do you know how to fight?” his voice was nice, unexpectedly soft.

“What?” You squeaked in surprise, looking back up at the blue and white mask. “ I, well, I…”

“What we’re doing, it’s a dangerous trade,” he cut you off. “And you don’t seem the type…” he gave you an up and down again, “... well to survive dangerous situations.”

“I can defend myself!” you answered a little too fast, “ I know the basics of self-defense at least!”

The masked man audibly sighed.

“That so?” He didn’t sound convinced. He let the papers he’d been holding in his hands drop next to him. ”Doesn’t matter anyways,” he got up and you sensed yourself shrink in size. Was everyone so tall in this crew? “I’m not the one you have to sell yourself to, if you want in,” he started walking back towards the ship. “It’s up to Kid.” 

You felt the blood drain from your face at that. 

“You coming?” he asked when you didn’t move.

You took a shaky but determined step towards the gangplank.

“Huh?! What’s this fucking thing about, Killer,” Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid screeched when he saw you approach with his first mate.

You cowered slightly in the face of the scowl marking his features. You felt small next to the two pirates. Inconsequential.

“She wants to join,” The man you now knew as Killer answered calmly. “Healer, cook, or whatever we need apparently,” he pointed at you with nonchalance.

Kid looked down at you, the twist on his lips deepening. “You fight?” he asked.

“I know the basics!” you replied trying your best not to break eye contact with the pirate captain, a resolute expression on your face, defiance in your gaze.

“The basics huh,” he took a step towards you, his scowl transforming into a smirk oozing with condescension, “Kitten, the basics aren’t gonna keep you alive on a pirate ship.”

“I’m a fast learner,” your brows furrowed in an angry glare. He was crude but you could endure. 

The expression was childish on your cute little face. Lips pouty and eyes burning with fire. Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid laughed. He looked majestic, sun shining bright on his face. It made your heart beat in a way you’d never experienced before.

“Oi Killer, didn’t ya say we need a healer? Need help in the kitchen too?” Kid asked, his intense stare leaving you momentarily. You took in a long overdue breath as hope filled you at his words.

Killer grunted, you weren’t quite certain if it was approval or not.

“Listen here, kitten,” Kid looked down at you amused and gaze locking back onto yours. “You become too much trouble and we’re leaving you at the next port.”

“Really? I can join?” You asked, your cheeks flushing in a soft pink with excitement, his warning not registering in the slightest.

“Sure, why not,” he yelled over his shoulder, already turning back to do his thing.

“Thank you, Sir! Captain, Sir! I won’t disappoint you!” You shouted at his back.

“Try not to get yourself killed, kitten,” he answered laughing.

A deep blush he didn’t see settled on your ears at the pet name. You decided in that moment that maybe, just maybe, Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid wasn’t so bad.

The Kid pirates were kinder than you’d originally thought. Killer had made sure you’d settled comfortably and as days became weeks on the Victoria Punk you started to believe that this was exactly where you were supposed to be. 

You spent most of your time holed up in the kitchen. Sometimes alone but mostly you were accompanied by Killer. Cooking for the rowdy bunch had turned out to be far more work than you’d anticipated, especially as you were constantly interrupted by members of the crew in need of healing. 

They came to you for the littlest of injuries. It made you wonder how they’d managed before you’d boarded the ship but you didn't really mind the unending interruptions. 

The way the door to the kitchen would often open in panic as someone would shout, “New girl, I need your help,” made you smile. Be it a simple cut or a broken bone, their intensity was always the same. They made you feel part of their family. No one had actually bothered learning your name. You mostly went by ‘New girl’, ‘Kitten’ to your captain. Although, Quincy and Dive had taken to 'Girly Pop' these past few days. Killer was one of the very few using your name, but you didn’t mind it. More so, it often brought a smile to your lips.

You opened the door of the kitchen, stepping out onto the deck of the ship as you skillfully balanced a tray of freshly made lemonade for the crew on your hip. The sun was blinding today and the warmth unbearable. Even you had ditched your long sundresses for a pink mini skirt. You were certain they were suffering covered in all that leather. You felt the slightly cool sea breeze touch your face, your curled fluffy hair flowing in the wind in a welcome momentary reprieve from the scorching heat. 

“Oi, Girly Pop!” Quincy shouted at you. “Whatcha got there?”

“Lemonade!” you answered brightly. “I thought you all would enjoy something cold to drink,” a gentle smile made its way on your lips as sounds of appreciation and ‘thank you, new girl!’ were heard all over the deck. 

Your eyes subconsciously sought out your captain. He must be hot with that big red fur coat of his. You wondered if he’d be thankful for the thought. A soft blush crept on your cheeks.

“Tch, don’t bother with the bastard,” Dive said, a scowl marking her face instead of her usual playful smile.

“Yeah, Captain’s in a shit mood these days,” Quincy added, her grin fading ever slightly too. “Cabin fever always hits him when we spend too long at sea. It’s better to leave him alone when he gets like that.”

“Yeah right, he needs either a good fight or a good fuck at this point,” Dive laughed bitterly.

“Preferably both, if we’re honest,” Quincy sighed. “Hope we get to a port soon, or else we’ll all be dead before the next island.”

You’d learned in the past weeks that your captain was temperamental and unpredictable. One day he’d be all smiles and laughing with everyone. The next he’d be looking to fight anyone in his way. Most of your patients were victims of his outbursts. But you’d come to know that his threats were, most of the time, all bark and little to no bite. You'd observed how even after he’d scream at someone for doing a shit job on his ship, he’d still take the time to show them how to properly do it. He even praised them occasionally when he noticed their improvement. 

You liked your captain, he really wasn’t as bad as everyone made him out to be. You liked how he took time to explain you things, he may have called you dumb and useless once or twice, but he always said so with a smile. You knew he didn’t mean it. You also liked how his hand lingered on your waist a touch too long when he passed behind you or how he’d ruffle your hair when he praised you. The thought made you blush. That was irrelevant, you knew you were no match to him. You were too soft where he was abrasive. Your captain was just as intense as his crew, perhaps the most intense of them all. But that made you respect him even more. After all, he was going to be the next pirate king and you’d do anything in your power to make it so.

That said, Kid had been in a bad mood these days. The atmosphere was tense all over the board. Everyone was tiptoeing around him the best they could. At least, you noticed he spent most of his time locked away in his workshop when his irritability hit him. You wondered what he was working on. It must be hot in there. You hoped he wouldn't get a stroke… not that you believed anything could kill him. 

Your brows furrowed in worry, looking at the door Kid had slammed just moments before. This marked the third day in a row, the third day of locking himself away in his workshop.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” Killer surprised you. You handed him a glass of lemonade and added a straw to it absentmindedly, as your train of thoughts kept on your captain.

“But wouldn’t something refreshing and… maybe snacks lessen his mood?” you shot back. You didn’t hear what Killer answered. “The heat is probably really getting to him in there,” you continued.

Killer sighed. You were already walking back towards the kitchen, resolved to whatever plan you’d just made in your head right now. You may not look like much but he’d learned you were just as impulsive as his captain when an idea settled in that mind of yours. Not that he should be surprised honestly. Anyone willing to board the Victoria Punk as you had had to be a little deranged. 

“(Y/n),” he tried again, “I really would recommend not disturbing him right now.” 

You didn’t seem to hear him. He hoped you would be fine. They’d lost crew members in the past due to Kid’s temper. Whatever you were set on doing… he wasn’t certain he could stop Kid if he decided to be an arse today.

In a flurry of pink, you grabbed a new pitcher of lemonade, filled it with ice, and cut up some apples. You’d just make sure your captain was alright in there and turn back. You marched to the door. You heard an offhand comment about you being brave or foolish coming from Heat and Wire. You ignored them and knocked.

“The fuck you want,” Kid shouted through the thick metal. He sounded even more pissed than usual. You cringed to yourself, maybe that hadn’t been such a bright idea you’d had in the end. But it was already too late. With that knock, you’d committed to your actions and now you had to follow through.

“Captain,” You said softly. “It’s me! I brought you something cold.”

No answer.

“Captain?” you asked again.

You heard a faint fuck pass through the door, a few things dropping on the floor, then the loud click of the lock unlocking.

“Ya can come in, Kitten,” he shouted, tone annoyed.

You cautiously made your way inside, careful not to accidentally touch anything as you wove a path to his work bench. 

“Captain! I brought you some refreshments! And something to eat too,” you said with a bright smile as you tried to wedge the tray you had balanced on your hip down on an empty corner of his desk. 

You didn’t see Kid’s scowl deepen nor his eyes linger at your cleavage. His gaze dropped down to that sliver of soft flesh visible right above the waistband of your short skirt. He closed his eyes, letting his head hit hard against the back of his chair. A groan he’d intended for his inner dialogue made it out of his lips. 

He tensed. 

Your eyes shot up from what you’d been doing. “Everything alright, Captain?” You wondered with a hint of worry in your voice. 

He looked alright, maybe a touch warm. You followed a droplet of sweat making its way down his neck to his torso. He was so handsome. Your face felt hot. You thanked the gods above that he had his eyes closed.

He grunted in answer. You guessed that meant he was ok. His gaze met yours again, staring down at you even though he was sitting and you were standing. 

“Need anything else, Captain?” You asked pouring him a drink.

His attention didn’t shift from your form. “Not really. You can go,” he grumbled, his tone was short. There was nothing else you’d get out of him today, that was clear.

“Oh, I see,” a touch of disappointment laced your words. “Well, let me know if you change your mind then,” a soft smile graced your lips as you turned back towards the door.

“Oi, Kitten,” his voice was slightly lower than usual, the gravel sending a shiver down your spine. You looked back at him over your shoulder.

“What is it Captain?” your tone was expectant. Hopeful for something neither of you was quite sure of.

The silence dragged on for what felt like an eternity. His lidded gaze made you nervous. He was stunning, majestic, it took all your concentration for your eyes not to wander. 

A shit-eating grin made its way on your captain’s face. “Nothing, Kitten. You can go.”

A deep blush adorned your cheeks when you shut the door to your captain’s workshop.

The door to his workshop closed gently. He swiftly used his powers to lock it in place. Fuck that had been dangerous. He sighed. What was he? A fucking horny teenager? His dick was half-hard. He downed the glass of lemonade you’d left on his desk. His nose scrunched up, it was sweet. 

He closed his eyes as ice crunched under his teeth in frustration. He was too far gone. Images of you just now passed through his mind. Your cleavage had been perfectly on show, hair flowing down your shoulders framing it just right. But it’d been that sliver of flesh at your hip and the way he’d almost seen your ass cheek from your slightly hiked-up skirt that had almost made him cave. Your soft thighs on display for all made him groan. His hand lazily palmed his hard-on. He bet they’d feel real nice around his head. He wanted to put bruises on your hips from fucking you too hard. Put bruises where all would see, make you scream so loud the whole crew would hear. The thought almost made him come right there. He unzipped his pants and gripped his cock harder. A moan caught low in his throat. He needed to get to an island urgently. He needed to fuck a few good-looking girls. Maybe pick up a fight with a few idiots at some port and he’d be alright. This, this wasn’t fucking alright. He came in his hand, his head banging painfully against the back of his chair.

Fuck that hurt.

Next Chapter →

[novlr]

6 More Writing Playlists for Scenes and Vibes!

If you love music, you’ll love these playlists! We’ve added 6 more amazing playlists to our already-growing collection.

From sweeping classical themes to write a royal court, some eerie tunes and soundscapes for writing a creepy carnival, vinyl classics for a vintage record store feel, pumping euro tunes for a European road trip, sea shanties for ocean voyages, and some vintage and modern French melodies for when you need a French bistro vibe, we’ve got you covered.

Writing a Royal Court

The pomp and circumstance of a Royal Court are palpable in this collection. This classical playlist is perfect for writing grand palaces, stately homes, balls, banquets, and court intrigues. Be transported to a world of nobles and chivalry where life is decadent and opulent.

Writing a Creepy Carnival

Creepy carnivals are staples of the horror genre, so we’ve put together this collection to help you write it. Whether your carnival travels the world, putting up stakes and causing mayhem wherever they go, or if you’re writing a static circus where visitors inexplicably go missing, then this is the playlist for you. Terrifying ringmasters, creepy rides, and eerie rituals – whatever your carnival holds, this is the playlist to write it to.

Writing in a Parisian Cafe

Sitting in a window of a cafe in Saint-Germain-des-Prés, watching the world go by, the young writer puts pen to paper. The characters who pass by them every day inspire and come alive. If you can’t people-watch, you can certainly imagine it! A mix of classical, acoustic folk, and French pop tunes, this collection will make you feel like you’re really there. So grab a croissant and a coffee and bring the Paris to you!

Writing a Vintage Record Store

Indie record stores have a vibe and are always full of interesting characters. There’s something special about them, and they’re always full of people who love music. This is a playlist for those who need to write a modern vintage feel. It’s a mix of tunes from the 1960s to the early 2000s – the kind of records vinyl aficionados would love a first pressing of. Get in the creative space to write about some of the weird and wonderful obsessive characters you’d find in an underground record shop in your favourite city.

Writing a Journey at Sea

Beware, me hearties, for here be dragons! Whether you’re writing an arctic exploration, an ancient sea voyage, preparations for a naval battle, or a band of intrepid pirates, there’s something in this playlist for you. With a mixture of modern folk tracks, sea shanties, and sea journey-themed instrumental pieces, this collection will conjure images of the salt spray on your face and the wind whipping your hair as you stand on deck, exploring unmapped places.

Writing a European Road Trip

Travel is always an adventure, but there’s something unique about a European road trip where you can fit so many different countries and cities into a small space of time. It’s a whirlwind of sights, tastes, and sounds, so this collection of tracks from all over Europe is sure to get you in the mood. From visiting the sights to sampling the cuisines, and nights out in some of Europe’s most infamous superclubs, this collection is sure to inspire you.

[shirefantasies]

Hello, may I please request fem reader x Elrond? With reader that is quite avoidant when it comes to touch, but accepts hugs and kisses from Elrond? I hope it is okay 👉👈 thank you so much in advance, have a wonderful day 💕💕💕💕

Yes, sorry this took so long but here we are! Hope you enjoy how this came to me, a one-shot featuring a third party POV as well as ‘yours’ 😊

The Steel Lady of Imladris- Elrond x F!Elf!Reader

It was known to the surrounding lands that in the Last Homely House one might be surprised by whom they meet; the lord of the land, after all, had a lady by his side, one whose presence was said to carry the chill of a harsh wind with her presence. Resolute as her home's walls, she cut quite the contrast to the hearths always said to be awaiting visitors of the fair valley. Perhaps she was even a witch like the one dwelling in the woods of Lórien.

Such were the rumors swirling in the mind of Rivendell's dwarven visitor, called there as he was to offer his people's wise council. Ha! What was it that had those pointy-ears finally asking for their help Gimli did not know, but happy was he to attend with his father at his side.

Riding in with his kin, he took in sailing white arches and a very well-constructed bridge, hearing his father mutter all the while about how nothing had changed. He had stopped there once before some sixty years ago, after all, during the dragon incident.

A whole gaggle of elves awaited there, some armored but most just decked out in their pretty finery, one clad in white emerging from the center with a deep blue-clad figure upon his arm. Long, elaborately twisted strands of dark hair hung onto his raiment and a circlet of silver crossed his forehead. Likewise, the woman at his side had what hair she could done with equal finesse, a matching headpiece, and a dress more closely tailored than the lord's robes. Elrond and his consort, the so-called Steel Lady of Imladris.

Sure enough, fair as you were your face was resolute as you stepped forward, practical even as you curtsied, surrendering the smallest of smiles. Ready for a fight as he was, Gimli wasn’t sure he’d want to take you on. At least, not without the proper head start and all.

You flinched as Gloin clapped a hand to your back, stepping forward in utter avoidance of his touch. Disrespectful though it may have seemed, you equally avoided one of your elven fellows’ advances. Gimli shook his head. Cold as they came.

~

Alright, fine, maybe this wing of the place was a little confusing. He still could figure it out for himself. One more corridor and it would be golden-

“Trouble yourself not, My Lady.”

Tilting his head, Gimli took a few steps forward, was availed the sight of Lord Elrond…holding you at the elbows, pulling you closer? The sound of… you giggling?

He’d turned away, but that sound along had Gimli swiveling around the corner again. Your head tilted and leaned onto the dark-haired elf’s shoulder. A smile cut further across your face as his lips fell to the crown of your head.

“You needn’t spend any more time in the crowds than you must. It was simply right to have you at my side for greetings.”

“I like being at your side, though,” you whispered, peeling your head from Elrond’s chest to kiss him once, twice, and far more lingering.

All right, that was enough. Off to bed. Gimli turned, trying the other fork in the hall with a faint smile playing upon his lips. Steel Lady indeed.

~

“Greetings, Madam.”

Frowning slightly, you turned to see if your eyes had deceived you; they had not- one of the visiting dwarves removed his helmet in your presence, giving you a jolly little bow.

Generally you were…unsuccessful, shall you say… with guests. Aversion to touch had bloomed from the harsh experiences of your past life, making trust a challenge. No bearing upon their race or character, but outsiders posed a threat. Disrupting routines, bringing louder, brasher customs. Viewing you as either held in thrall to their impositions or else some myth beyond their metaphorical touch.

Elrond was the anchor in your vast sea of anxiety, the only one who saw through story, perceived emotion seemingly unexpressed. Displayed hope and kindness abundant as the cleanest of springs.

But now stood a dwarf of all people fixing you with earnest hazel eyes. Understanding. What should you do?

A smile shook its way to your lips. “Good morning,” you chose a customary greeting. Standard, safe.

“Aye,” the dwarf nodded, “it is, isn’t it? Well, I know you elves like to keep time, so I'll be off to breakfast before there is none. Tell me your favorite and I will save you some if I can."

Stranger or not, you were sure anyone could have read the shock upon your face. Shaking it quickly aside, you kept your face neutral as you named it and gave a thanks. As the dwarf went on his way, he bid you his final farewell by your title, yes, but also your name. They didn't usually use your name.

Light footsteps rang out behind you, barely perceptible even by your sensitive ears. "And what was that about, hm?" Elrond.

Tension melted from your shoulders as the curious little quirk of your lips burst into a wide smile. Turning on your heels, you slid your arms about your husband's waist, relaxing when his hand caressed the top of your head.

"The dwarf," you answered, "he was so kind. Not in that rough way so often seen, but...genuine. Caring. Like he wanted to see me smile. Could someone have challenged him?"

You feel your husband's head shake. "How many times must I remind you," he teased, "of the light that lies in your eyes? That which reaches deepest into the heart. Surely he felt no challenge than that. Indeed, I would say he simply sees you as I do."

Heart thumping, you loosened your grip on Elrond to meet his lips in a loving kiss, safe in the warmth of his words and his hold upon you. Bit by bit he encouraged you to be brave, never leaving you adrift for long, you reflected as he took your hand, bidding you lead the way to the greater halls at your ready.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

[lewkwoodnco]

Falling For You - Lockwood x Reader

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

a/n: tfw you almost die in the arms of your future employer :) rip lockwood and co, never an agents first choice be it in canon or fanon ok ill stop now also just to be clear we’re all ignoring how much the title sucks ass okay god only gave out a limited number of brain cells and we can’t ALL be as creative as @bella-rose29 (will make a separate post on this a little later, not enough space here) (but also she was SICKKK for coming up w the title deck the halls (and not your partner) ok didn’t mean to turn this into a belle appreciation post but 👍)

warnings/tropes: fluff fluff FLUFF, this is about as fluffy as it gets from me ashdkd, cringy pick up lines overload, also I declare plagiarism (?) of some rlly popular incorrect quotes, you'll know it when you read them

word count: 2.6k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

She and Lucy were in the kitchen, putting the kettle on and waiting for the boys to reach home. The four of them had split up to get some errands done that morning before breakfast - she and Lucy went to collect the payment for a few jobs, while Lockwood and George dropped off some paperwork at DEPRAC headquarters. Lucy put the kettle on while she refilled their teabag jar, and a minute later the boys walked in.

George was telling Lockwood off for something, who wasn't looking too sorry for whatever it was that he had done, though he clearly cared enough to try to suppress his giggles.

"Those forms took me hours, Lockwood. I wasn't about to let you drop them into some slush."

"I keep telling you, I wasn't going to drop them."

"How would you know when you were too busy making an ass of yourself?"

"I haven't seen a good pickup line in a while, George. You found it funny too."

"Yes, and the threat of you chucking our forms was downright hilarious."

She handed out the mugs of tea.

"What pickup line?"

"It was just a DEPRAC ad. Something like 'Are you a wraith? Because you have me love-locked.' Just a reminder of some quick signs of a visitor presence for Valentine's Day." 

She meandered over to where Lockwood was standing at the kitchen counter, a little too casual. He immediately snapped up whatever he was scribbling. She looked mildly (read: exaggeratedly) injured, but he just gave her one of his winning smiles. Really, she was well within her rights to be suspicious.

"S'that?"

"A bill."

"What bill?"

"Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried."

"Good."

"Show me the bill."

"You're adorable."

It was a poor excuse of an attempt at a distraction, as she immediately started trying to snatch it away. Lockwood just held the folded paper above his head, trying to pry his jacket out of her yanking hands. After a minute or so of vehement struggling, the scuffle ended the way all of their scuffles ended - her playing at sour grapes.

"Oh! Go boil-yer-head. I don't even want to see that bill anyway."

He slotted the letter into an envelope smoothly as George cut in.

"Speaking of bills, hopefully, we'll be able to pay more of them off soon. Couples like to go away for Valentine's, so it's the perfect time to get any lingering visitors taken care of. We should put an ad in the paper, like DEPRAC."

That set Lockwood off again, and George groaned. As he got up to get another biscuit, she conspiratorially turned to Lockwood.

"Y'know, for someone who's so tickled by pickup lines, I bet you'd be terrible at them."

"Not more terrible than you."

"I beg to differ!"

"Wanna bet?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

Their bet had taken a back burner in her mind while she was preparing for their case that night, but she was still immediately suspicious when she walked into the kitchen to see Lockwood innocently snacking on a bowl of raisins.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing! Can't a guy eat his raisins?" He silently proferred the bowl to her. She narrowed her eyes. 

"No thanks."

"How about a date?"

"When did we get - oh. Ha ha." There was a mischievous crinkle in Lockwood's eye. "Sneaky. I was busy preparing for our case, like a proper agent."

"Hmm, excuses, excuses."

"Fine. If George finds out you haven't read tonight's case file, you're on your own."

"NO no no no please please please -"

She prepped a few pickup lines before they left, just enough to stop Lockwood from becoming completely unbearable.

"Are you a visitor? Because you've been haunting my dreams."

She scrunched up her nose. "Boo. That's terrible."

"You try coming up with a visitor-themed one. They're all so horrible."

She paused for a minute.

"Are you a Lurker? 'Cause you're making my heart race."

"...no one likes a show-off," he grumbled, and she smiled to herself as they continued rooting through boxes, looking for a potential Source.

"Your hand looks heavy. Could I hold it for you?"

"What's it like to be the most gorgeous person in this room?" That one got a good laugh out of him.

"Might be more flattering if my competition wasn't a Raw Bones. You’re pretty and I’m cute. Wanna be pretty cute together?"

"If you and I were socks, we'd make a great pair."

She revelled in the huge smile that lit up his face. She knew he'd get a kick out of that one.

She hadn't expected to have as much fun with their game as she did. They recounted their highlights to Lucy and George on the way home, which made for an entertaining end to the case. As Lucy and George put away their coats, Lockwood lingered behind, looking at her as if there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't quite find the words. She became even more alarmed when he placed a hand on her shoulder, because of how serious he looked.

"Is everything okay?" 

He took a shaky breath and tightened his grip on her shoulder ever so slightly.

"If you let me borrow a kiss, I promise I'll give it right back."

The line itself wasn't particularly outrageous, but in the darkness by the door, with their faces in the shadows and him holding her close, she momentarily forgot how to breathe.

"Good one," she whispered.

He gave her a sloping smile and retreated into the kitchen. She stood there for a moment, thinking about the warmth on her shoulder, as if his hand was still there.

"Did it hurt?"

"When I fell from heaven?"

"When you fell down the stairs. Right in front of us. It's been ten minutes and you haven't even gotten up yet."

With a strangled wheeze, he righted himself, looking more than a little stupid with his affronted expression and hair sticking up in all directions. They were on a case, and Lockwood had been a bit too close to the stairs whilst investigating the death glow on the landing. It had been quite a painful-looking rollercoaster of a fall with many bumps as he flailed for the railings, ending with a muffled scream.

"I was checking for broken bones."

"For ten minutes? Do you even have that many bones?"

He had an oily smirk on his face, though it was mostly nullified by his slightly crossed eyes.

"I've got...so many bones, I could give you a...wait. No. Hey lady, do you want a...bone? If you were a bone, you'd be in my...body...my body has all the bones...hang on. Okay, got it. Bones....fuck."

"...concussion?"

"Nuh-uh."

That was the moment his knees chose to buckle under him, and the three of them hurried to hold him upright. Even though he kept insisting he was fine, he was looking far too pale and woozy, so they flagged down a cab and pushed Lockwood into it. After a quick round of rock paper scissors, she joined him in the cab while George and Lucy got to stay to finish the job.

It had been a bit of a challenge to fumble for the key to the front door with the dead weight that was Lockwood compressing her spine, but she somehow managed. She tried her best to keep track of all of his long limbs after he knocked his head on the side of the door frame, groaning again. She dumped him onto their living room sofa, going down with him in the process, and with some difficulty peeled herself out of his grip. The bump had clearly taken quite a bit out of him, for by the time she returned with a blanket, he had completely passed out.

With some difficulty, she wrestled his rapier off of him and draped the blanket over him. She put away her own gear and rapier and curled up with a book on the armchair opposite the sofa. It was odd to see Lockwood sleeping. And even more odd to see him doing it so peacefully, like all thoughts and worries had been knocked clean out of his head. Much like her thoughts, the first time they met.

It hadn’t even been her goddamn fault. She had been lugging around her uncle’s rapiers since hers had been sent for cleaning and it was starting to make her arm ache. She deserved a little lean, no doubt. Only, what she thought was the door frame had been the door itself, so when her then-future employer had opened the door, she stumbled right into his arms.

And then promptly fell out of them when he let her go by surprise. To his credit, he was superfluously apologetic and sympathetic, and kept asking if her head was alright throughout the interview. It was a little annoying, if she were entirely honest, but she was grateful when that sympathy translated into a job, because all coherent thoughts in her head were lying somewhere on their front door runner.

As much as she tried not to think about the incident since Lockwood showed no sign of doing so himself, it kept her up at night more than she'd like to admit. But it had also been rather liberating, as there was little else she could do that would be any worse.

As if hearing her thoughts, Lockwood began to stir after an hour or so, opening his eyes blearily. She instinctively put her book down and crouched next to the sofa, where she immediately felt awkward. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand on his forehead, and they blinked at each other in confusion.

"How're you feeling?"

"Great." He cleared his throat, which barely helped his hoarse voice. "Chipper."

"Are you sure? Feeling chilly?"

"No, I'm fine. Are you a construction worker?"

"...huh?"

"Because you are building."

"What."

"I win."

He turned to his side and buried his face into his cushion with a satisfied look on his face. 

"Oh, Lockwood. I don't think..."

He pulled his head out of the cushion alarmingly fast. That couldn't have been good for his neck. "Ohhh, too good for my pickup lines now, eh?"

"I...what?"

"I get a bump on my head and you don't like my pickup lines no more?"

"Why do you have a Brooklyn accent?"

"You's got a Brooklyn accent."

"Okay, now you're just throwing a tantrum."

He fussed for a few more minutes, muttering out of the corner of his mouth or into the cushion, but eventually calmed down. As his eyes fluttered close, his breathing becoming long and even, she quietly got up to leave.

"Just so you know...I do think you're building."

The Brooklyn accent was gone, and though his low murmur was comfortably familiar, something in it sent a spark running through her brain.

"I think you're building too."

She could have sworn he had a small smile before his mouth relaxed as he drifted off again.

She didn't see much of him after that, given how much rest he needed, and the reprieve from their game was a welcome relief. The pickup lines didn't slide off her tongue as easily when she meant them as much as she did now. Still, she couldn't hide from him forever, and ran into him in the kitchen a few nights later.

"Oh. Hey."

He held up the biscuit tin. "Hello. Catching up on my biscuit rations."

She smiled. "Feeling better?"

"Definitely. A little sick of lying about, but I think I've finally got my head on straight."

He smiled, and the tension between them melted. She smiled back.

"Must have been scary, having your brain go wonky like that." 

"It was...wild. I don't even know how I had the presence of mind to put my rapier away."

Her cheeks burned as she pointedly rummaged through their pantry for a snack while Lockwood brewed tea for the both of them. They sat at the kitchen table in silence, slowly sipping their tea as they ignored the elephant in the room. That is, until Lockwood broached the subject.

“Did it hurt?”

She put her mug down. “Lockwood.”

“Did it hurt?” He pressed, firmly.

“I’ve already heard this one.”

“Just - humour me for a minute, won’t you?”

She looked at the little she could see of his face, given how close they were sitting, and gave a small sigh.

“So. Did it hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven?”

“When you fell into my life.” 

He lightly squeezed her hand, it was only then that she realised that they were holding hands. She choked on her breath in a mildly undignified manner, but with the proximity and the unexpected answer, she was well and truly taken aback. She waited for the embarrassment to kick in. There were a lot of things to be embarrassed about at that moment - how he could probably see every imperfection on her face, how he could probably tell how nervous she was getting from how clammy her palm must be, and of course that he remembered their dreadfully embarrassing first encounter.

But the shame never came. If anything, she felt oddly…touched. There wasn’t anything embarrassing about the memory anymore. It was…as much as it pained her to admit it…slightly romantic. She looked away from his face, shaking her head slightly, staring at their gripping hands. So easy it was to hold onto each other in the shadows, but terrifying in the daylight. Scratch that, it was terrifying to see herself holding his hand just as tightly as he held hers. Maybe he did compel…something in her.

His hand disappeared into his pocket, and a moment later he was pulling out a familiar, weathered envelope. 

"I've never...I've never asked anyone to be my Valentine. Never knew how it worked. Still don't really know how it works. So I tried writing it all down, and..." Lockwood frowned at the loopy yet measured scrawls in front of him. He sighed in defeat, crumpling the letter. "...and I still don't know how it works."

She swallowed through the lump in her throat. "Me neither. But..." she tore her eyes away from the table, looking at his face with his emotions stacked plain as day. "I think we know enough."

She curled her fingers into his. Years ago, she hadn't thought knowing if she was in love would ever be an issue, but for so many years she struggled to find the love they wrote books, songs and poetry about. But sitting here now, in the dim light of the kitchen, with a person whose face she could trace in her sleep, she realised Little Her had had it right all along.

“I always thought you were very nice to me in that interview. A little too nice.”

“You didn’t hear the way you screamed. I thought you were going down with a heart attack.”

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[dazed-and-confused23]

Act Naturally 3

Summary: It's been a couple of days since Lucy and Cooper married, and the vault doctor is confused when he finds out that they've not consummated it yet.

Pairings: Pre-War Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean

Warnings. None really? Smut with be on the next/final part.

Masterlist

It's been a couple of days since their marriage, and Cooper finds life in the vault... dull, to say the least. There isn't much way of entertainment, and his new job as Althetic Coach was pretty useless, leaving the ex-actor bored most days. Not that Lucy is boring, but the young woman had more duties in the vault than he did, leaving Cooper alone much of the day.

No, Lucy was an amazing, intelligent young woman who Cooper was getting to know little by little. She was raised to be a go-getter, with a can-do attitude, but he could see that there was more to just that. Lucy was kind and thoughtful in a way that few people truly were. Cooper didn't love her, but he could see himself falling for the young vault dweller.

A week passes by, and he's back in their shared home, mindlessly watching a rerun of some old-world cartoon when there is a knock on the door. He pushes himself up and answers the sliding door to find a middle-aged man on the other side with a white lab coat over his vault suit.

"Hello, Mr. Howard. I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting yet. I'm Dr. Gallows," He introduces himself and shakes Cooper's hand when offered.

"Cooper, good to meet you," the ex-actor, "What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

The doctor clears his throat and shoots Cooper a small grin, "Well, usually a new bride has already come to see me after the consummation of the marriage, but Lucy has yet to stop by, so I wanted to do a house call to make sure everything was good to go."

Cooper blinks at the doctor, and the casual way he brings up his sex life. Lucy hadn't made a move to try and sleep with him, and Coop had been fine with allowing her to set the pace. What did it matter if they hadn't fucked yet?

"Okay... and?"

The doctor lets out an awkward chuckle, "Well. Part of the Vault mission is to rebuild human society, but we can't do that if we don't have kids, right Mr. Howard? So I'd like for Lucy to come see me in the next couple of days, that should give the two of you please of time."

Cooper wants to protest, to immediately shut this innane bull crap down, but he stops himself. The vaults were a tight nit group, and he doubted that just he would be in trouble if he decided to deck their doctor in the face. Lucy would be part of this, too.

So, instead, the man sighs and grands the doctor a look little more friendly than a glare, "I'll see what I can do, Doc."

"Ah, splendid then! I'll see you in a couple of days!"

Cooper sneers as the other man be-pops away like nothing had happened and shuts the door quickly. He would have to talk to Lucy about this when she got home.

It's near the evening by the time his wife gets home, and Cooper welcomes Lucy with a smile and open arms, which she gratefully falls into. He holds her close and presses a quick kiss to the top of her head, "Long day, baby?"

Lucy sighs dramatically and leans back so that she can look at him, "You have no idea. Dad had me sit in on all his meetings, and then I had class to teach. No one even paid attention."

Cooper chuckles a bit and leads Lucy over to the couch, where she sits down beside him. He keeps her close, one arm curled around her back as she tells him about her day, which sounds far more interesting than anything he did today.

They are having a light dinner when Cooper brings up his visitor from earlier in the day, "Dr. Gallows came by today."

He pauses when Lucy’s face erupts in , and the fork she holds falls to the plate. He cocks a brow at her and sits back, sitting his own utensils down to give his wife his full attention. Cooper sees her swallow harshly and avoid his gaze.

"What - uhm. What did he want?"

Cooper licks his lips, fingers itching for a cigarette to occupy his hands with, and says as easy as pie, "Wondering why we haven't "consummated our marriage" yet."

Lucy's shoulders draw up to around her ears, and she slaps her hands over her face, "I'm so sorry. He wasn't being pushy, was he?"

Cooper huffed and stood from his seat, "Well, he made it quite clear that he wasn't too thrilled that we've kept him waiting. I'm not a fan of these vault rules, Darlin', so we'll make him wait as long as you want him to."

He gathers the dishes and sets them in the sink for later, and then turns back around to see his wife still slumped over the table. He frowns and mosies over, one hand dropping to her shoulder and squeezing lightly, "We'll follow your lead."

Lucy reaches up a hand and curls it around his own, her fingers squeezing hard before she lifts her head and peeks up at him through her dark bangs. Cooper thinks she looks beautiful like this.

"I want to," she begins and elaborates when he lifts a brow, her voice wavering with nerves, "to have sex with you. I was just too scared to ask."

The ex-actor scoffs and stands behind her, his other hand coming up to land on her shoulder and massage the tense muscles there. She sags under him, and Cooper bends down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. He didn't want her to feel scared or nervous around him, not when he was her husband.

"You can talk to me about anything, Sweetheart," Cooper assures his wife quietly, "I'm always in your corner, no matter what, okay?"

Lucy nods, and when she looks at him again, he catches the way her pupils blow wide and watches her red tongue sneak out to wet her lips. Arousal pools in his stomach, and his hands tighten around her shoulders.

"Can we have sex, now?"

Cooper swallows harshly and searches her gaze for any time that says Lucy might not want any of this but only sees growing excitement. He smiles at her, a slow smirk that speaks for how much he absolutely wants to have sex. He lets her go and rounds the chair, then angles her chin up to look at him with his knuckle.

"Go get ready for me then, baby."

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Mamma mia | chapter five

listen to: Why did it have to be me? - Abba | I don't miss you at all - Finneas (playlist here)

warnings: accidental pregnancy, smut 18+, raising a child alone. warnings will be added as the story progresses. For this chapter single-mothering? and stupid boyfriends.

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fi!!

The sun was coming down, casting a warm golden glow over the pristine beaches and the navy-blue waters. The breeze carried the sweet scent of saltwater and sunscreen as you entered the Hard Deck, following James and August. 

The day was a quintessential summer day. 

After Augustine had kicked both Coyote and Jake, reasonably quickly after James had finished, literally. She chased them out of the house. They barely had time to pick up their clothes; James and you threw the rest of their belongings through the window while you laughed as they dressed in the front yard. 

You can still feel Jake’s eyes on you. He winked at you while running away from Augustine, who was about to shower them with the hose. You’d shamelessly screamed at him, ‘Call me!’ still ran through your mind, and how his green sea-foam eyes shined as he saluted you was still imprinted in your heart. 

Soon after, you biked to the beach; even with your injured wrist, you forced yourself to drive because the day was too beautiful not to spend it outside. By the time you were biking back, you bumped into a larger-than-usual crowd around the Hard Deck. Augustine quickly forced you to stop as she saw a group of Navy newbies walking into the Hard Deck. Parking your bikes in the back, you quickly ran inside, still in your swimsuits; your laughter and excitement filled the air, blending with the cheerful chatter of other patrons. 

The bar was too full; it’d been a while since you’d seen it like that. Maybe it was the fact that you’d been under the sun all day, or the fact that the bar was too crowded, the fact that you mainly drank homemade lemonade and barely any food, maybe it was the fact that you had had your first orgasm that morning but, even in your bikini and body wrap, your body felt like it was simmering, a soft heat surrounding you. 

“Here!” Augustine screams as she drags you to a small spot near the bar, where you take in the sight around you. 

Sailors in their crisp uniforms mingled with locals and visitors. There was this aura around the bar. A sticky general sense of content filled the air, heavy like honey. The tropical breeze that managed to get through the window licked at you as you scanned the bar, momentarily gazing at your friends laughing. 

You stay still for a moment. Trying to paint the memory in your mind, to add the scent of the bar, the scent of summer, scan it in your face, remember every second of that day. Your heart swells as you take everything in. Every last memory of the moment. 

Of your last summer. 

“You don’t have to change places at the table?” James says as Jimmy brings your drinks, recalling how August sat on the opposite side of the table from where you and Jake had. God, you turn maroon every time you think about the morning. 

“Of course I have!” August grumbles as she remembers how she will now sit on your spot, far from where Jake had you. 

“I disinfected it with alcohol!” you answer as you sip the Martini. More than you should. 

“I don’t care!” 

“Let her be,” James replies as she sits down; she eyes you from the side. “I mean, at the kitchen table?”

Your jaw drops for a moment before James bursts into laughter. You can feel your cheeks warming up even more before you dip your fingers into your drink and quickly splash James. The drops scatter around James’ face, and she giggles even harder. 

“You did it all over the house,” you grumble. 

Augustine nods. “I can’t sit on that sunroom couch for at least a week,”

“I disinfected it!” James says with a light smile as she shrugs her shoulders. 

Honestly, you’d never seen James excited about anyone; she barely showed interest in someone since you’d met her when you were ten, and not everyone made an impression. She mostly hooked up one time every six months; it was often the cycle she had. As she called it, she would get bored and choose the most exciting suitor. 

Ignoring them soon after. 

“Who are you, and what did you do with our best friend?”

“Right?” you answer, smiling happily, another big sip. “Those googly eyes aren’t yours,”

“Oh my god, stop it,”

But with Javy Machado, it was different. 

“Anyway, which guys you were looking at, August?” James says as she sips her wine and looks around the bar. Augustine does the same, trying to locate her next suitor, and you decide to help. 

That’s when you see him.

He’s handsome, mainly because he is beaming when his striking amber eyes meet yours. It is strange. The way he moves through the crowd, it looks like he belongs here. It isn’t that he’s exuding confidence. He does seem confident, but it isn’t like that. There’s something in him, a somewhat halo effect. He appears to be glowing. He looks to be like the afternoon sun, with the tan skin and the caramel curls, what seemed to be like an attempt at an 80s pornstach. He looked like cinnamon.

Your heart skips a beat as time slows down, and the warmth of the summer day emboldens you to keep looking as if you haven’t been totally caught. 

It doesn’t matter, though, because he seems just as awe-struck as you are. His soft lips parted as he takes you in. Salty hair, tan skin, just a bikini top and a Martini in your hand. Bradley has seen plenty of beautiful women in his lifetime, but there’s something about you, your eyes, and how dazzling they are. A butterfly in a bar of sunshine. 

“Go talk to him!” James quickly says, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You quickly snap your head towards James, looking away from him as she smiles at you playfully, nudging you to go talk to him. You take the second round James had already ordered as soon as Jimmy sets them on the table.

Your cheeks turn maroon as you sip your Martini again. “No, I can’t!” you answer, shaking your head. Momentarily thinking about Jake and Bob. 

“August just went for hers!” she says. You turn around to find the seat next to you empty. Frowning for a moment, you return to James. “You can go too,” she insists. 

You bite your lower lip as you take a deep breath. Your mind goes back to this morning, thinking about Jake. He was supposed to call you today, and yet he didn’t. Then you remember Bob. For all you know, he might be calling you right now since your phone is dead, but he still hasn’t. You aren’t insecure, per se. It isn’t like you haven’t been thinking about them. If you had their numbers, you probably would’ve called them. 

You hold your breath for a moment. It has been a week since your summer started. Two short live romances in two days and a little more should be enough fun. Fun according to your friends, fun according to anyone your age. This is the time to make stupid decisions, experiment, and learn what you like. 

And so, you turn around looking for him. 

But he is gone. 

Your eyes scan the bar as best as possible, but there’s no sign of the mystery man. “He’s gone,” you huff silently to James, who frowns and immediately starts to look for him as if ready to fight him while you order another drink. 

Drinking the alcohol, feeling the liquid courage settle on your empty stomach, you think that’s for the best. You don’t notice when the music stops, too busy in your thoughts and telling James to drop it to notice what’s happening around you.  

And then you hear someone clearing their throat. 

“I know I’m just a fool who’s willing To sit around and wait for you,” the smooth, velvety voice makes you jolt around, and there he is. 

He is close to you now, enough that you know he can smell the salt on your skin and the thick scent of the ocean in your hair. Enough that you can see the little beads of sweat in his mustache, his pink cheeks, and the freckles surrounding his eyes. You can smell him, too, the olive scent surrounding him mixed with the scent of the beer he must’ve been taking. All-American, all beautiful, and now he’s singing to you. Acapella. 

“But baby, can’t you see there’s nothing else for me to do?” he continues to sign as people turn in delight, making the connection between him and the girl he’s singing to, you. “I’m hopelessly devoted to you,” his eyes are locked into yours as your cheeks flush, and you try to keep your smile down. 

There’s delight in his eyes when he realizes that you can’t stop smiling. He is bewitched. 

“But now there’s nowhere to hide Since you pushed my love aside,” he sings, swinging his hips, a dramatic performance, but now he’s accompanied by a chorus of military guys. You gasp as everyone starts to accompany him. Even James now. “I’m out of my head, Hopelessly devoted to you,”

The high tone isn’t his best for his friends; he still manages to keep it, but it causes you to cover your face with your hands as you giggle. He laughs too but continues to sing, through his chuckles, his smile now wide that he heard your laughter. 

“Hopelessly devoted to you,” he signs lower, his voice husky and beautiful. “Hopelessly devoted to you,” he sings as if the lyrics are meant only for you. For a moment, the world around you fades away, and you stare at him as the last note lingers in the air. 

Your heart flutters as the crowd erupts into cheering and applause. Everyone is now screaming his callsign, Rooster. He smiles at you, an expectation somewhere in his eyes, but you are too enthralled with him, with the gesture that you are simply beaming at him, waiting for him to say something.

“Sailor, sit here,” James finally says as she points to the empty seat beside you. 

Rooster glances at James, giving her a thankful smile before he sits next to you. You frown as James quickly leaves you to it, winking at you and silently wishing you good luck. Rooster eyes trail down your body, taking in your outfit in a bar crowded with clothed people. He enjoys it, the carelessness in you. 

“You don’t look like a singer at all, you know that?” you tease him, deciding you’ll be the first one to talk as if it would do much to diminish your anxiety. 

Rooster’s grin widens. What little he can recall from his dad was that he was never the greatest singer, not that it ever stopped him, but his mom had a prettier voice. Maybe it was the fact that he sang too much as a child until he became talented. He just knows that his father loved to sing; he loved music. Hell, this was how his father and his uncle managed to convince his mom to go on a date with Goose. 

“I like to keep a few tricks down my sleeve, you know?” he responds with the same teasing tone as he orders another beer from Jimmy, getting closer to you. 

“I think that’s the best trick to pick up girls I’ve ever seen,” you answer as you turn towards him. “Do you use it a lot here? What’s your repertoire?”

Rooster bites his lower lip as he shakes his head and sips on the beer, denying your assumptions. You roll your eyes.

“Oh, come on, Rooster,” you say with a playful smile, pushing him softly on his chest, your fingertips grazing against his strong muscles. 

You can’t help but notice how his eyes light up when you say his name, making your heart swell. You wonder for a moment if you are truly good at flirting as you gaze at him, blushing as the moments pass. 

“Bradley Bradshaw to you,” he responds, his voice soft and almost teasing. “You?”

After you tell him your name, his smile grows wider. Your inner cheek gets caught between your teeth as you take in his handsome features - those captivating eyes, the long lashes, and even that distinct pornstache that somehow adds to his charm.

“So, Bradshaw, how many times have you used it?” you inquire, genuinely curious about the adventures of the daring pilot.

“Two,” Rooster answers, but a hint of disappointment crosses your face, hidden behind your furrowed brow. It should be more, you think to yourself. With looks like his and that voice that could melt hearts, you’re sure he’s had many admirers.

“How did it go the first time?” you ask, leaning in. 

“Crashed and burned,” he admits, a touch of vulnerability in his voice.

“And the second?” you ask, the corners of your lips curling up with anticipation.

“Well, do you want to get out of here and find out with me?” he suggests, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You raise an eyebrow, playfully gasping at his assumption. “What makes you think that I want to sleep with you?”

He counters with a playful pout, “Oh, so you’ll leave me brokenhearted?”

You can’t help but chuckle for a moment. The playful banter between you two feels natural, like you’ve known each other for far longer than just this encounter as if you’d known each other your whole life. It makes you feel a bit more comfortable. It’s strange. Feeling the surge of courage in your chest makes everything feel lighter for a moment. He seems lighter, but there’s something else in his eyes. A sense of longing.  

Giving him a mockingly dramatic expression, you quickly stand up from the chair and walk to the door. 

Rooster’s eyes widen. “Wait, wait,” he says, his voice softening. He follows you while you smile as you feel him closely behind you, his fingertips touching yours, before you push the door to the outside. 

The sea breeze hits your face perfectly. The moon is shining bright in the sky, enough to illuminate the beach just in the right way. A wide smile on your face as you close your eyes and relish the day. You don’t notice him looking; you don’t notice how he admires you, how his eyes are glowing as he takes you in. At night, with just a swimsuit, your face clean, your cheeks red, you are beautiful. 

“Dance with me,” he suddenly whispers. 

You snap your head towards him, opening your eyes softly as you take him in. Your heart flutters at his request, and you can’t resist his earnest plea. “You will truly break my heart,” you jest, as you take his hand and follow him to the sand. 

Wordlessly, you take his hand, and he begins to sway the two of you side to side. Your body quickly molds to his, perfectly, moving in sync with the rhythm of the music from inside the bar. His strong arms wrap around your waist, drawing you even closer to him. Olive and beer fill your senses, intoxicating and comforting all at once. 

You gaze into each other’s eyes, and the world around you disappears. It’s as if there’s just the two of you on the beach, lost in the feeling, the electricity, and the warmth. 

“You are so one of them,” you whisper as your hands climb up his chest and wrap themselves around his neck. His skin is hot; it burns. You don’t know why you are so sensitive; you want to blame the alcohol, but you think that’s just an omen for a moment. 

Rooster frowns, unable to understand what you mean. “The one guy that genuinely falls in love, every evening, with a different type of girl only to fall out of it again the next morning,” you explain. 

“That’s not true at all,” he protests as his hand gently trails up your back, sending a trail of electricity in its wake. The touch is both tender but a little more intimate, enough to know that he wants more but also soft enough that you lean into him. You don’t care that he’s too warm, that the heat might turn suffocating. 

“And then, which is worse. As you are breaking her heart, you are telling all of these lies about how she’s too good for you, and you can’t possibly be a good option for her, and you love her too much to stay with her,” you continued.

Rooster chuckles softly as he leans down further. 

“You’re too good for me,” he says, and you can’t help but smile.

His eyes linger on your face for a second, studying it; he’s tasting the moment, and so are you. 

And then, he leans in.  

The way he cups your cheeks is enough for you to gasp softly before his lips connect to yours. His mouth molds perfectly with yours, his nose bumping yours as your eyes close and you let yourself go. Bradley feels his heart thundering in his chest; you taste just like honey and lemon. His fingers dig into the delicate skin of your hips. It’s slow and long; he’s taking his time, but you can feel it, his impatience and yours; you know it by now as he ran his hands along the low of your back and you into his hair. 

The kiss is sweet and pleasurable. It isn’t passionate or soft. It’s something else, too intimate, too unknown. 

It wasn’t like it was with Jake or Bob. It’s different. 

God. Jake and Bob, for all you know, they might be there. 

As the thought crosses your mind, Rooster wraps his arms around your torso, and he’s pulling you closer to him, tight. As if he doesn’t want to let you go, he deepens the kiss. 

But then something’s off. Your stomach churns, and a feeling of nausea washes over you, your breath shallow, and suddenly you are suffocating. You shake your head, barely having time to push him away enough by his chest for him to notice. He lets you go fast, just in time before the bile rises from your throat. 

It might be the dehydration, the mix of alcohol, the fact of not eating, or just your consciousness. 

But as you finish throwing up your guts, everything seems a bit blurry. A pressure on your chest that you hadn’t felt ever before overwhelms you; it feels like you can’t breathe as you wipe your mouth. 

“Honey?”

Your vision goes blurry, and your throat feels so tight that no words come out of your mouth. All you can feel is the panic rising inside your chest; everything goes black. 

SEVEN YEARS LATER

As James and Augustine had promised, they did take care of you. It’d been over two weeks since you’d run into Jake, Rooster, and Bob. They’d taken the toll of doing groceries and doing simple errands around the town so you would avoid places that they might be. Hardware stores, cinemas, bars, and Grocery stores were strictly forbidden until further notice, at least for you. Inés could go out with Augustine and James. You knew that you simply couldn’t. 

Agustine told you that she had a contact in the Navy who might be able to tell you how long they’d be here. You waited patiently as you tried to do your best to work and take care of Inés, trying to cheer her up when you’d tell her that you couldn’t go to the movies together or the grocery store. Or the park on the main street. It was getting harder and harder each day, especially since Inés, three days after you’d sworn off any of these places, had realized and didn’t want to go anywhere without you. 

She quickly decided to hibernate with you, and you honestly didn’t know if it could last long. 

Even more with John’s presence in the house, more often than not. He’d apologized a week prior, and you’d let it go because you didn’t have the energy to fight with him. Not now, at least. He’d stayed over that same weekend; he’d tried to talk to her, but Inés outright refused. She even insisted that she had to sleep with you every night of the weekend until finally John left. Most importantly, John wouldn’t even be allowed to use her bed; he had to sleep on the couch. 

As you looked down at your beautiful daughter, at her button nose, at those oh-so-familiar caramel eyes with flecks of green, her oh-so-familiar twisted soft pink lips, all wrapped together in that small frown as she slightly glared at you with her oh-so-familiar brunette golden hair in disarray, waiting for an answer, you knew that John would be complaining about his backache for at least a week. 

“I just don’t get why she doesn’t like me,” he says as he slurps slightly from his cereal bowl. You cringe at the sound but try not to mind as you close the door of your mother’s house. 

It was her night with your mom; part of you was grateful that she was in another place that wasn’t the house or her summer camp. 

“She just doesn’t know you that well. That’s all,” you pinch your nose as you curse mentally the heels that you’d to wear due to a meeting with a client. 

“That’s why I told you, both of you should come to LA with me; we can go to that Disney Park,” he insists on the other end. 

You wonder for a slight second, only a second, if he didn’t have anything else to do at work because you did, and he still decides to bring up this. You regret it immediately as you stop in front of your car, phone heavy on your hand. Men you’d dated before had run away from you the moment they found out about Inés; here was a man who wanted to spend time with her. 

“Yeah, I know,” you answer softly as you stare at the sky. The cues of orange were already reflecting on the clouds in the sky; the afternoon sun was warming up your skin, toasting it, making your soul sizzle slightly. 

For a second, you close your eyes, and you let yourself go back to that summer. To those afternoons where the sun stretched as much as it could, showering you with its light. Salt air kissing your lips. Clouds lazily drift by. Rhythmic, soothing melody of the waves rushing towards you. You can remember their touch as they’d kissed your neck, your skin, their lips rolling down your body. 

“Babe?” 

You gasped softly as you opened your eyes. “I’m here,” you answer, clearing your throat as you look around, hoping no one else has seen you. 

There were many moments throughout the years when you thought that you’d seen one of them. Jake more often than Bradley or Bob. Your heart always drops to your stomach, and your vision turns technicolor. Colors become so bright that you almost become sick. They, he, they always looked at you just in the way you liked those years ago. They didn’t age when you thought you saw them. 

That’s how you realize that it is him, passing by in a car you didn’t recognize. As your eyes lock with him, you know deep down that he is looking for you. 

“I have to go,” your voice could be barely heard; it’s not more than a whisper as your eyes are glued to the jeep that continues to drive. John might’ve heard you, you don’t know, but you also don’t care. 

Holding your breath, you hope that he will drive away, but he doesn’t. It parks a few feet away from you. Your heartbeat picks up as you see the door opening. You’d seen him a few times with the green jumpsuit. He looks a lot older now, a lot grown up. Grown-up, something about it makes you want to recoil. It doesn’t fit with the memories you have of him. 

He was supposed to stay twenty-five; you were supposed to stay twenty-three. The more times you see him now, the more it eats away those memories. 

“What are you doing here?” You whisper, a sudden cool evening breeze brushing against your skin as you stand in the street, washed in golden light. The moon was now peering over the edge of the horizon, casting a faint shadow to glow over the sky.

“I thought I’d pass by,” Jake replies, his voice laced with a hint of nostalgia as he gazes at you. Those eyes staring back at you, just like they did seven years prior. 

There’s a brief moment when you can feel like you’re back there with him again. Seven years ago, you had your father; seven years ago, you were still innocent; you hadn’t gone through anything, managed to live your life prior to them unscathed, without so much as a crack. Now, as you stand there, you can feel it. 

All the cuts, all the breaks, all the different ways you were twisted and pulled back the way you’d to paste yourself back together for Inés.

Your face was stern, furrowing your eyebrows slightly. “You know what you sound like, right?” you ask. 

Jake’s lips tug slightly on the edges. He managed to see those parts of you seven years prior, hidden through a meekness you’d tried to push down those sharp edges of you. He likes that you let the sharpness come through now.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he admits, his voice ting with regret. “I hoped,” he says slowly; you roll your eyes at him. “I think I was the only one that came to your parent’s house, right?”

As soon as the words drop from his lips, you feel everything stop. Staring at him, your mind rumbles to look for answers to what he means. He has your rattle; he notices it. He knows your body like the back of his hand, every edge, curve, inch. He had it memorized seven years ago. There’s a part of him that’s relieved that he can still read you; he was afraid that he couldn’t anymore, even with this. 

“What are you -”

“I heard your name,” he interrupts softly, “Rooster and Bob were talking about you and how they know you.”

The silence is heavy as you stare at each other. There was a time when this was your worst nightmare, that either Bradley or, Bob or Jake found out about each other. You’d tried to handle it. None of them had asked you for anything else but what you had, and you hadn’t planned to ask for more. 

Until then, they did, until you did. 

“I don’t have to explain anything to you; you do know that, right?” you finally answer after weighing your options. 

Jake nods. He half-expected that answer after the domino of events that trail behind your relationship. 

His eyes examine you. Cheeks flushed, hair loose, the professional sleeveless black dress hugs your body perfectly. He’d imagined you like this: professional, beautiful. A little bit older, a little bit wiser. Sometimes he’d imagined what his life would’ve been like if he hadn’t fucked up as he did. 

But now, as he heard Bradley and Bob bickering about that summer. He realized that maybe he wasn’t the only one to blame. 

“So, it wasn’t only me that summer, and Bradley for that matter,” he says, his eyes flickering now to yours. 

The words come out of your mouth faster than you wished. “It was,” you sound definitive because you knew for a second it was before everything came tumbling down. But then again, you know it isn’t true, and you’d made the choices you’d made. You’d made your bed with all three of them. “I mean, I was also, you were.”

“Forgot that you avoid talking about feelings,” he murmurs, his eyes still fixed on you, the hint of a smile on his lips as he gives a step closer to you. 

Your eyebrows pinch. Memories of that fateful summer flooding back. You recall how confident he was, the charm that always seemed to follow him, and why you got stuck in his web. Anger floods back too, simmering in your chest, defensiveness, everything you don’t want to feel again and less for him. 

“I’ve changed; it has been seven years, and you only knew me for eight weeks.”

It’s filled with poison, you know it, and he does it too. 

“And I haven’t been able to forget you, honey,” Jake confesses, his voice filled with a melancholic longing as he gives another step. “Please, just hear me out,”

You smell the sandalwood, the lemon. You look up at him through your lashes, holding your ground, not moving an inch as you stare at him. He shouldn’t make your heart beat this way, not when it has been so long. And yet he does; he makes your body react. Perhaps it is the fact that he is looking at you like that; perhaps it is the way the sun is hitting you right now, but anger drains slowly as you feel him closer. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say softly, eyebrows still pinched. 

Part of you wishes you didn’t sound so soft when he’s around you, but the thought of him has been marinating for so long in your mind since you first saw him here again. His face is calm, but you can still sense the regret. 

“I shouldn’t have let you go,” Jake repeats, swallowing hard as his hand carefully comes up to your face; he does it carefully, as if not to scare you. 

A sound slips out of his lips as you lean into his touch. It doesn’t even cross your mind to move; you’re not too thrown off by his tenderness; you’d been craving it. 

“It doesn’t matter now,” you argue; closing your eyes, you let his skin touch yours. It burns you, from the inside out, the fact that you still crave his touch like this.

“Honey,” he breathes out. “Of course it does. What are the odds that you are here and I am here?”

He startles you. You open your eyes just as fast as you’d leaned into him. Staring at him, he doesn’t know what you’re hiding. He does not know what kept you here. You want to yell at him, the odds, you scoff mentally. The odds were that you got knocked up by one of them, the odds were that you couldn’t leave, and the odds were that you raised your daughter on your own. Even worse, the present odds. The odds are that if he, or any of them, find out what you’ve done, they might take Inés away from you. 

“Jake, stop,” you bite, taking a step back from him. You don’t dare to look at him for a moment. 

“Honey,” 

“You lied to me,” you pull away completely. “You lied to me, broke my heart,”

Jake frowns. He hates this. He hates that you run away, time and time again; you’ve always run away from him. Now that he knows, he just doesn’t let you go that easily. No, he can’t. 

“You lied, too. I mean, were you sleeping with-”

“Go,” you snap at him. Jake watches as you glare at him, your eyebrows pinched. He remembers the way your lips turn when you’re mad; he knows you. You aren’t mad right now. He stares at you, your long lashes, your golden skin. Eyes that he’d been seeing in his dreams since he left. Pink, plush lips. His eyes stay there for longer than before, and when he looks back at you again, you’re already staring. 

You know what he is about to do. 

 “I said, just go-” 

One, two, three steps, and he has reached you. His hand finds your hip and grabs at it roughly, cupping your jaw; his lips find yours. 

author's note: Thank you so much for your patience!!!!! I have so many questions about this fic because I've rewrote so many things. Need your opinions.

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[notscarsafe]

Okay, so in honor of all the Hermits stirring things up on Twitter today, let's REALISTICALLY consider Season Ten. What do we know, what are our clues, actually???

(Speculating and overanalyzing are really fun so I'm just going to embrace my tendency to Listify Everything and spill my thoughts on Season Ten under the cut!)

First Evidence: The Words of the Hermits.

Nine Days ago Scar said in his Jellie tribute video that Season Ten was “Just around the corner”. Five days ago on the 18th, right after the Hermit meeting that probably finalized their start of the season plans, Cub posted his cryptic tweet whose incorrect capitalizations spelled out “SEASON TEN SOON”. I can't imagine either of those hermits using that phrasing if the season start was more than a month away.

What's more, Gem posted yesterday the 23 that “If hermitcraft s10 doesn’t start soon I’m gonna explode!!!” I can't imagine Gem being that impatient unless there was only a couple of weeks or maybe just one week left before filming.

Second Point to Consider: Hermit Conscientiousness.

The Hermits sre generally really kind to each other and have known when the Hermitcraft Vault Hunters challenge was going to end (Jan 31st, midnight) for months. Per Iskall, the videos of the Herald Vault will drop February 1rst and I can't imagine they'd want video competition between that content and the new season.

Clue Three: The Streaming Activities of the Hermits.

The sheer amount of time Joe has spent playing Vault Hunters lead me to believe they can't have started filming for Season 10 yet. Seriously, when Joe finally has a day without a bonus Vault Hunters stream I'm gonna get mighty suspicious. Joe has streamed more than three hours of Vault Hunters every single day for a week. There was Wednesday when he did his art stream, but I wouldn't expect that to have been a launch day because:

Fact Four: Editing turn around times are so grindy.

The traffic series always has a several day turn around for editing time (IE film Monday post Friday) and several Hermits still struggle to get them out on those days. Even if the hermits were going to ignore the Vault Hunters conflict and start filming season ten this week, tomorrow even, they'd just barely have enough time to squeeze those videos out before the Herald Vault videos. As I'm editing this post Impulse just said he's trying to finish his office reorg this week and have a tour out next week. That does not sound like 'filming this week and editing the new season opener' behavior.

If it goes as Iskall indicated on stream, the Vault Hunter hermits will film the Herald Vault and post as soon as possible on February 1st, meaning the earliest they could kick off season ten would be Friday the 2nd. Even if they film on then I can't imagine them dropping new season videos/having them edited any earlier than Monday the 5th. Furthermore:

Clue Five: A lot of Hermits are very protective of their weekends.

Pearl for example almost didn't join the Decked Out visitor day because it was a weekend. It may be that Monday the 5th would be the more likely earliest useable day for filming after Vault Hunters ended. With editing turn around, we'd guess the start date to be Friday at least.

In Conclusion:

My totally bullshit overanalyzed but still blind guess is that the Hermits will film season ten starting February 5th and will drop videos sometime between February 7th and 9th.

That being said, Cub's cypher today that may have just been trolling said season ten would be “sooner than we'd think” so they may surprise me yet.

Keep an eye out for days where no hermits stream or days where Joe does a brief “1 hour chill stream” to see when the Hermits might be suspiciously behind the scenes. I won't be mad if I'm wrong, overthinking is fun. Either way I hope you join me in hypong up the new season and the new Hermits joining the Hermit Fam. I can't wait!

(Note: this post originally reported the herald vault videos as dropping the 2nd which was an estimate from a stream, but Iskalls video today reported they'd drop the first and this post has been edited to reflect that ❤️)

[ohtobeleah]

PL2

6 - In bed at 2am, blissfully drowsy

&

37 - “You're stuck with me, like it or not.”

With my favorite WSO good ol' Baby On Board (Sorry Fanboy)

I see you, and I raise you Bob Floyd with the Admirals Daughter.

Warnings: None :)

Bob had been freaking the fuck out ever since he’d gotten the call from the county hospital that you’d been admitted. The worst part about knowing you were in the hospital was the fact he couldn’t just up and leave in the middle of a tactical response seminar. But the second he was finished? The second Mav had stopped talking and dismissed the group of Elite Naval Aviators that sat before him, Bob was racing off down the hall, collecting his keys from his locker and making a rush to the county hospital across town. 

Because of course they couldn’t take you to the Base Hospital could they? No—that would’ve been too easy. 

“You have a patient here, Y/n Y/l/n—what room is she in?” There were two things about Robert Floyd that still seemed to shock people when they figured him out. 

“Miss Y/l/n, is resting and—“ Bob didn’t let the nurse sitting at the nurses station finish her sentence. 

“I asked what room she’s in.” The first thing that seemed to shock people about Bob was that he lost all sense of politeness and rationality when the people he cared about were in pain or in any kind of danger. Phoenix found that out one night at the Hard Deck when some guy touched her ass. Robert Floyd, who at that point had shown no sign of aggression or intention to ever engage in any sort of physical contact, stood up after he finished his last sip of lemon lime bitters and threw the hardest right hook he could. 

“As I was saying, she can’t have any visitors.” Bob didn’t like that response at all as the nurse went back to her paperwork. 

“Listen to me—“ The second thing about Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd that shocked people when they finally connected the dots, was that he was dating none other than Admiral Beau Simpson's daughter and had been doing so for a number of years before he even crossed paths with Cyclone at Miramar. “I’m gonna ask you one more time—“ But Bob already knew Cyclone from the many dinners he’d been over for during holiday seasons and family get-togethers. It didn’t however change the hostility the pair shared. “What room is my girlfriend in—“ Because there was something Bob hadn’t done yet that your father thought he should have done by now if he was serious about his baby girl. 

Bob hadn’t Proposed. 

“Floyd.” Cyclone called out from down the hall as Bob turned in the direction your fathers voice had come from. “She’s in room 1024.” Bob waisted not a second of time as he made his way towards your dad. 

“You’ve seen her?” 

“It’s locked.” 

“I don’t care—“ You were Bob's entire world, his best friend, the love of his life, his better half. “I need to see her.” As Bob tried to push past your dad, Cyclone put his hand on Bob's shoulder, catching his attention and stopping him from taking another step forward. 

“What are you gonna do kid? Are you gonna break the door down?”

“Yeah—“ Bob nodded as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “If I have to.” All Beau did in response was let his hopefully one day soon son in law go, watching as he made a direct line towards your hospital room. 

“I spoke to the doctors, they said she fainted at school but she’s fine Robert.” 

“If she fainted then she isn’t alright now is she!?” Bob spat back at your dad as he continued down the hall. Cyclone stayed hot on his tail. 

“They said she’s run down and a little dehydrated but she’s okay.” 

“Alright so then why won’t they let anyone see her?” Bob asked as he stopped in his stride and turned back to Cyclone who looked just as worried as Bob. 

“Because she’s sleeping, she needs it.” Bob knew better than anyone how hard you’d been overworking yourself. Between working full time and studying you were spread pretty thin. Bob thought you needed to take a step back, he saw the way you had been neglecting your own health in order to fit study into your already jam packed schedule. “Bob, she’s fine.” Bob let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in ever since he got the call you’d been taken to hospital. “She’s gonna be okay kid.” 

“What are you even doing here?” Bob questioned your dad as he ran his hands through his hair. 

“I’m one of her emergency contacts, they called me.”

“Yeah I know that but—“ Bob didn’t mean to sound rude, he was just stating the obvious. Beau Simpson had never been an overly passionate father figure. And it seemed as though Beau caught onto what his somewhat son in law had been insinuating. 

“You mean what’s a heartless shithead like me doing in a place like this?” 

“Yeah something like that.” Bob replied, was he proud of himself? No not really, but he knew his point had been made. 

“I would’ve come for you too if you ever worked hard enough to pass out.” Cyclone tapped Bob's shoulder as he smiled softly. “But you never have.” Bob chuckled softly too as both men saw a nurse stepping out of your room, gesturing that they could enter if they wanted to. “You go, I’m sure she wants to see you before anyone else.” 

“Thanks Sir.” Bob replied as he nodded and pressed his lips together. “Thank you for caring about her enough to come.” Bob left it at that, not quite hearing what Admiral Sysmpison said under his breath.

“You too son, you too.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

The next day after Bob had admittedly refused to leave your side overnight, you were both getting home to an empty house that had been left unattended overnight. 

However, as you slept soundly while Bob kept a watchful eye on you, he asked Fanboy and Phoenix if it wasn’t too much trouble, if they could swing by and just spruce the place up a little bit. 

They did without hesitation because they knew if there were still things that needed to be done around the home you and Bob shared, you truly wouldn’t be able to rest. And all you needed right now was rest. And plenty of it.

“Alright so here’s what you’re gonna do.” Bob cooed as he cupped your face and pulled you close the moment you both stepped through the threshold of your humble abode. “You’re gonna go upstairs and take a long, hot shower and relax while I cook us some food.” 

“I can help you cook.” You tried to argue but the look you got from your boyfriend in return was enough to tell you that he was serious about you doing nothing. “Alright alright, I’ll be in the shower.” 

“When you're done it’s straight into pyjamas, no ifs or buts.” Bob shouted after you as you walked up the stairs. You were so thankful to have Bob, someone who cared enough about you to want to take care of you and tell you to slow the hell down. You thought you were fine until you weren’t fine. Which was why Bob felt it was important and absolutely critical that he stayed home with you for a day or two to make sure you weren’t going to start back up into the almost psychotic routine you’d been putting yourself through to fit everything in. 

“Okay so I know you aren’t sick but I also know you can’t be feeling too crash hot so—“ Bob cooed as he opened the bedroom door a little wider with his foot to see you getting ready to hop into bed. “I thought chicken soup and toast might be good.” Bob explained as he padded across the bedroom, carrying two bowls of delicious soup on a tray.

“Is that your mum's chicken soup?” You asked curiously as the smell captivated your senses as Bob moved closer. “Oh god it smells so good.” Bob was as careful as he could be as he sat down beside you in bed, holding the tray he’d brought in with two bowls of soup and buttered toast to go with. 

“I didn’t have time to make it from scratch so I just got some out of the deep freeze.” You really did love Robert Floyd, and for what it was worth you’d say yes in a heartbeat if he ever did ask you to marry him. But it was something you weren’t too pressed about—you were just happy to enjoy the moments you had with him. “But here, we’re gonna sit down and we’re gonna eat this soup and we’re gonna watch Shameless because I know that you’ve been needing to find the time to finish it and now a time has presented itself.” Bob babbled as he passed you your bowl and took his own as he expertly manoeuvred his legs under the covers. “Don’t argue either.” 

“I feel fine, I promise—“ You tried to argue anyway as you blew on your spoon full of soup, sending Bob the biggest puppy dog eyes you could conjure up. “But this is perfect, thank you for this.” 

“Anytime.” Bob leaned in to kiss your cheek before the pair of you settled in for an afternoon in bed binge watching Shameless and trying to not think about the copious amounts of studying you had and the fact you had to miss work. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

2am rolled around a hell of a lot quicker than it normally did. Maybe it was because you and Bob had spent the majority of the afternoon in bed together or perhaps it was the fact that after your bowl of Bob's mum's chicken noodle soup, you felt a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Blissfully drowsy in a love filled embrace you snuggled into the warmth of Bob's exposed chest as he wrapped you into him, half dazed and sleeping. 

“I could stay like this forever.” You mumbled as you tried to get yourself back to sleep. Bob had always been a little sleeper. So much so it felt like sometimes he was always alert to what was going on around him, especially you. “But I know reality is chewing on our heels.” 

“You're stuck with me, like it or not.” Bob cooed as he pulled you in closer. “I took the next few days off to just be with you.” He explained, knowing that in the next day or two he was going to finally ask you to marry him. “So, reality is gonna have to wait, miss overachiever, because you're stuck with me.”

Smiling into Bob's armpit, you beamed at the thought. Damn, he really cared huh. 

“I don’t think that sounds all that awful at all baby.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊