#hopefully the gist of it is in there somewhere

[kaiba-cave]

Hello I am once again asking for money if anyone can spare like $10 or $15 bucks so I can get my cat a bag of food and make sure I also don’t starve til my next pay. 😂 You know the gist, if you’d like some fan fiction written in return (or a gif set made, I haven’t done that in a while but I still know how!), let me know.

I am just a o tired of living pay cheque to pay cheque and being poor. :) Like don’t get me wrong I make decent money, but the cost of everything in life makes that “decent” amount feel like nothing. Maybe if I lived somewhere else it would feel decent.

ONE single bag of groceries with a case of pop and an already 50% off bag of toilet paper? $75. Gas is up at 1.72 a litre which is ridiculous. $20 in gas gets me a quarter tank and lasts for a few days, and I hardly ever even go anywhere. Can’t imagine if I lived further from my job and had to drive to work and back every day. Thankfully I work from home and even if I didn’t, the office is a block away.

Like I just got paid LAST NIGHT and do you know how much money I have left after paying SOME bills and taking out what I need for rent? $204, and my car insurance is $193, so. I haven’t even paid the pet insurance or school loan yet but the car insurance is the most important one so I have to make sure I have money for that and the other two will just bounce for now I guess. 🤷‍♀️ I’ll see how long my cat’s food lasts, hopefully she can make it til my next pay.

I’m hoping I’ll still be able to get my tattoo with just money from my next pay but we’ll have to see. I don’t want to cancel because I’ll lose a $100 deposit but if I don’t have the money I don’t have the money.

Gonna try to sell some manga (like anyone wants those), a GameCube I’ve literally never played since I bought it years ago, and some other games I don’t play. But that just depends on if anyone actually buys them. 😒

[justplaggin]

i might've caved in and translated that one page from the new anthology

[joelsgreys]

to hell and back l one

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l main masterlist l next chapter

summary: After escaping a group of brutal slavers, you are left with permanent physical and emotional scars. Unwilling to put your trust in another human being ever again, you spend a year fighting for survival alone in the post outbreak world. But when you choose to save the life of a man named Joel Miller, the wall that you’ve built to protect yourself slowly begins to crumble.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI. canon violence, canon language, brief mentions of slavers, brutality, torture, assault, guns, reader is an archer, mentions of hunting, animal death, injured/unconscious Joel, very minor mentions of blood, age gap (reader is 30, Joel is 56) very brief mention of scars, reader does not/cannot speak at times, a lot of internal dialogue from reader, at one point reader does try to speak to Joel but she is unable. *please be advised that no specific diagnosis is used or will be mentioned, i’m writing the series with the idea that reader herself cannot fully comprehend her inability to speak at times. basically the gist of it is we have a very traumatized person who does not realize just how traumatized she is.

word count: 8.2k (good lord I am so sorry)

a/n: not a whole lot to say except for that this is...different. at least i think it is, i could be wrong lmao. this is by far one of the most challenging things i have ever decided to write, but hopefully it turned out okay

California l Fall, 2023

You’d been on the run since dawn.

It was several hours later now and nightfall was approaching—and it was approaching a hell of a lot fucking faster than you could have even anticipated. The darkness was quickly closing in, falling around you like a velvet black curtain. However, stumbling around blindly in the dark was currently the very least of your worries. 

Your feet were raw, both completely blistered and bleeding through your socks inside of your worn out, muddied white canvas sneakers. Your sore, aching legs screamed out for mercy and your knees trembled violently, threatening to buckle out from underneath the weight of your body at any given moment. 

In the week and a half leading up to your escape from captivity, you’d been deprived of both food and water—it had been your punishment for closing your eyes and turning your head away after you’d been instructed by the slavers to watch their brutal assault of the young teenaged girl that you had been sharing a cage with. She’d been unable to keep up with her work duties, and they had decided to make an example out of her.

Despite still having been forced to witness the horrendous, unspeakable things they’d done to that poor girl, your initial resistance resulted in you being beaten and then starved for several days. Occasionally, one of the late night guards would try and bribe you, offering a small piece of jerky or a couple of stale crackers in exchange for a blowjob. At first, you told him you’d rather cut your own tongue out with a rusty blade than suck his dick, but when he proposed the disgusting, vile trade again just a couple of nights later, you’d accepted it—because him pulling you out of that fucking cage after hours and removing the tight shackles from your wrists when no one else was around would give you the chance to finally make a run for it.

You swung yourself around the nearest redwood tree, slumping back against its thick, wide trunk. You covered your mouth with your two hands in an attempt to silence the sound of your heavy panting. 

Besides being in pain, malnourished and severely dehydrated, the exhaustion was starting to set in too. The adrenaline pumping through your veins had brought you this far, but exactly how much farther could it take you? How much longer could it possibly keep you going before your tired body decided to give up and give out?

Somewhere behind you, you could hear the men calling out cheerfully.

One sang out, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

“Come out and plaaaaay,” a second taunted.

The third shouted, “We’re gonna get you!”

Their giddiness made you want to vomit. If your stomach hadn’t been empty, you would have.

Those sick, twisted fucks weren’t letting up. 

They’d been on your heels for hours.

The large group of slavers in California were over two hundred strong and had dozens of prisoners chained up in their human cages—they had more than enough people to force into labor. There was no need for them to waste their time and efforts going after you, but after spending the last eight months witnessing firsthand how these sadistic bastards operated, it occurred to you that their desire to recapture you wasn’t out of a need for labor. It was for their entertainment. 

They were hunting you down for sport.

This was their idea of fun.

“Fuck,” you whispered underneath your breath, your hands falling down to your sides.

Something had to give.

Your legs, your body, your will to live.

Perhaps all of the above.

You couldn’t keep on running for much longer.

And even if you could, where the hell were you supposed to go? How were you supposed to get there?

You had no food, no water, and no weapon.

Just the torn, tattered clothes on your back.

You were defenseless against whatever else was out there and you couldn’t see yourself surviving longer than a couple of days at most.

There was a part of you that wanted to give up and surrender. If you could be absolutely certain that they would shoot you dead on the spot, you would actually consider it and step out from behind the tree—hell, you would happily let them put a bullet between your eyes and put you out of your misery once and for all. But they wouldn’t be so generous. You knew they would have their way with you here in the middle of this forest and only after they were done would they take you back to their settlement where they’d put you right back in shackles so the real torture could begin. Just like that teenaged girl, the slavers would make an example out of you so that nobody else in their right mind would even think about running away. 

They would be sure to make your death as slow and as agonizing as possible.  

No. If you were going to die, then you were going to die. But fucking not like that.

Hearing them draw closer towards where you’d been hiding, you pushed yourself away from the redwood and willed yourself to keep on going.

Wyoming l Fall 2024

Your eyes softly flutter open.

Bright, early morning sunlight filters in through the ripped, white lace curtains that hang over the small, square shaped window right above your head. 

Blinking the sleep away, you prop yourself up slightly on your elbows and take a glance around at your surroundings. The old, abandoned cabin that you’d stumbled across just a couple of days ago is tiny, cramped, and crumbling. It also reeks—it smells damp, musty, and earthy, like rotting wood. But beggars can’t be choosers and you are certainly in no position to be a chooser right now. It’s not what you consider to be ideal, but it’s four walls and a roof, which is more than anyone can ask for. It’s sparsely furnished with a table and two chairs, an old wood burning stove you had been too afraid to light because you didn’t want to risk setting the place on fire, and there’s even a small, twin sized bed for you to sleep on. Well, perhaps calling it a bed was a tad bit too generous. It’s really just a mattress sitting on four large concrete blocks. It’s rough, dirty, and torn with rusted springs and bits of fluff sticking out from every corner. Still, it sure as fuck beat the hell out of sleeping outside in the dirt and using a rock as a pillow.

Besides the luxury of having something close to a proper roof to sleep under, there’s also a lake just two and a half miles north of the cabin where you had been able to fill your canteen with fresh water. Not to mention, you’d also been able to bathe and wash your clothes for the first time in a couple of weeks. You had been on your own for about a year now, and this was the luckiest you’ve gotten in terms of finding a decent place to stay.

Whether or not it’s safe, it was still too early to tell. 

Sure, you were out somewhere in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and hadn’t seen a single soul, living or dead, in a couple of months now. But that still didn’t mean that running into the infected or other people wasn’t a possibility. Letting your guard down was risky. Too risky. 

You swing your legs over the side of the mattress and sit up, slipping on your pair of warm, wool socks before tugging on your boots—you’d found them over the summer and even though they had been about one size too small for you, you’d managed to break them in since then and the supple brown leather now molds almost perfectly to your feet. You stand up and lift your arms up above your head while simultaneously twisting your stiff, sore back in a painful, but much needed stretch. You’re only just a couple of months shy of turning thirty years old, but lately, your bones snap, crackle and pop with each and every movement, making you feel twice your actual age. 

The thought of it makes you snort in amusement. You should be so lucky to stay alive long enough to see the age of sixty. Hell, you’re still unable to fathom how you’d even made it this close to seeing thirty.

Dropping your arms back down to your sides, you make your way over to your khaki colored pack and pull out your aluminum canteen from one of the side pockets. You twist off the cap and gulp back a long, cool drink of water, hoping to get rid of the dryness in your mouth and the cracks in your chapped lips. As soon as the liquid makes it all the way down to the pit of your stomach, the hollow, muscular organ grumbles loudly, demanding food. You’d had some decent luck while out hunting the previous morning, capturing two wild rabbits—you had eagerly skinned, cleaned and cooked them both, devouring one right after the other so fast that it had nearly made you sick. It had been a pretty decent meal, but not nearly enough to completely satisfy your ravenous hunger. Prior to finding the cabin and settling in, you had been living off of a couple handfuls of nuts and berries for three days while on the move. You were still fucking starving and all you could do was pray that you’d find more rabbits today. 

Maybe you’d get even luckier and spot a pheasant. It was their season, after all. 

You drink some more water and set your canteen aside. You’d planned to return to the lake later in the afternoon to refill it as well as to have another bath. You pull on your faded, black denim jacket over your hoodie and pick up the wooden bow and brown leather quiver of arrows sitting beside your pack. You’d found the weapon in some hunting shop back in Utah that had already been picked clean to the bone over the last couple of decades. However, no one had even bothered with taking the bow. It hadn’t really surprised you, though. In the post outbreak world, a bow and arrow would do absolutely nothing to protect against the infected runners and stalkers—and it would do much less to protect against clickers unless your aim was flawless.

Still, a bow was useful in its own right. 

It was perfect for hunting game. It was silent, keeping you and your location concealed from potential passersby at all times. Most importantly, you could reuse your arrows so long as you were careful and didn’t break them while removing them from your kills—and in the event that you did happen to snap an arrow, all you had to do was salvage what you could from the damaged projectile and make a new one. Simple as that. 

Your father had taught you how before he’d died.

“Why bother with a bow? What about a gun?” you had asked him. 

“Might not always be able to get your hands on a gun,” he’d replied as he sharpened an edge of the small, thumb sized rock in his hand. “Or bullets. It doesn’t hurt to have alternatives in the event that you can’t get your hands on either of those things, kiddo.” Despite being in your mid twenties at the time, he’d still always call you kiddo. “Always have a backup weapon, alright?”

He’d been wise to give you that advice.

You did have a firearm, a colt pistol that you hardly have ammunition for. There were ten rounds left in the clip and with no luck in finding any more in the last couple of months, you’d decided to preserve them, saving what little bullets you had left for a real emergency. You kept the gun tucked into the waistband of your jeans at all times, along with the sharp switchblade that you used to gut and skin game. As far as weapons go, you sure as hell could’ve been a lot worse off. But if you happened to stumble upon more ammunition for your gun, you certainly wouldn’t complain about it. 

Slinging your bow and the quiver of arrows over your shoulder, you grab the dark gray foraging bag that you used to collect and carry your kills in and leave the cabin, feeling somewhat confident enough to leave the remainder of your belongings behind instead of hauling them all along with you like you had the morning before. It wasn’t that you feared someone would come along and steal them. There wasn’t really anything for anyone to steal, anyway. Rather, you’d gotten so damn used to the instability and the constant moving around—you never stayed in one place for too long and were always prepared to run. But today, you decide to leave your things in the cabin, feeling certain that you would return in just a couple of hours. 

You step out onto the creaking, three step porch that’s so old it buckles slightly under your weight and a gentle breeze nips at your cheeks and nose. It’s the middle of autumn in Wyoming and the air outside is fresh, cool and crisp. Winter was looming right around the corner like a dark shadow, and although you’d somehow managed to make it through the previous year’s brutal snow season, that didn’t do much to stop you from being nervous about the one that was to come. If all went according to your plan, you’d be holing yourself up in that shoddy little cabin until the worst of winter was over and then you would move along.

To where?

You didn’t have the slightest fucking clue. 

You make a short trek about two miles south, going in the opposite direction of the lake and finding yourself closer to the thick forest trees that surrounded the base of the mountain range out in the distance instead. There’s a dried, grassy clearing just feet from the entrance of the forest—finding a single, decently sized boulder in the middle of the wide, open space, you decide that behind it is the perfect spot for you to set up and hope for the best. Carefully setting your things down on the ground, you pull out a pair of old, cracked binoculars from your bag. You lean your body over the smooth, round top of the rock and lift them up to your face, peeking through the lenses. You hope to spot something right away because it sure would be fucking nice to eat something sooner rather than later. Otherwise you might just start gnawing at your own arm. 

Diligently, you scan your surroundings for any and all signs of wildlife. 

That’s when you see it, standing near the edge of the woods.

You gasp softly as your sights fall upon the deer. 

Pulling your face away from your binoculars, you blink furiously before taking another look just to be sure that your eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on you. It’s not a hallucination. It’s a white tailed deer, a female, and from the look of her, she has to be at least about a hundred pounds. At least.

You try to not get too far ahead of yourself, but it’s far too late. The thought of finding some herbs and making a hot, venison stew for supper makes your mouth water. The rest of the meat could be dried out and made into a batch of jerky that could feed you for months. Months.

Then, you suddenly remember you’ve never even attempted to bring down an animal of that size before and you’re slapped back into reality.

You think about your father, who would bring home a deer every weekend after going on his hunting trips with some of his old college buddies. “You want to aim for the heart or the lungs,” he’d say as you and your siblings would watch him dress the carcass, much to your mother’s chagrin. “Look between the shoulder blade and the last rib,” he would tell you and your brothers. You’d also had an older sister, but she had always been incredibly squeamish and had a soul that was much too sweet and caring for hunting. She would always want to bring home every animal your father shot and nurse it back to health. “Somewhere between those two lies everything you need to hit in order to do the job and do it well. And for the love of god, don’t you ever aim directly for the shoulder. Behind it, kiddos, always aim behind it. You got it?”

“Yes Papa,” you’d all chime out together.

Setting down the binoculars in your hands, you reach for your bow and pluck an arrow from your quiver before stepping out from behind the boulder. You’re careful to be as silent as possible as you take a few steps closer towards the unsuspecting grazing animal. You position yourself and stand perpendicular to the deer, placing your feet shoulder width apart—you’re a little farther from your target than you would have preferred, but you don’t want to risk going any closer and scaring her off, so it would have to do. Once you feel comfortable enough with your stance, you nock the arrow and set it on the string. You then hold the string and steady your grip on the bow, relaxing your shoulders before drawing it and pulling your arm back until you’ve reached your anchor point, which is always the corner of your mouth. 

Breathe, you remind yourself calmly as you aim at the delicate spot behind her shoulder blade. Nice and slow. Breathe.

Just as you’re about to release the arrow and take your shot, the deer whips her head back towards the trees and her ears prick forward—a split second later, she darts off, zooming across the field in the opposite direction of where you’d been standing. 

Your mouth falls open in disbelief. 

“Are you fucking shitting me?” you mutter under your breath.

Frustrated, you lower your weapon and just as you start to contemplate whether or not it’s even worth it to try and hunt her down on foot, you suddenly hear something—it isn’t until the noise draws closer to where you’re standing that you realize it’s the sound of a galloping horse.

Perplexed, you squint over in the direction of where you think it’s coming from, right near the edge of the trees. Then, just a moment later, a brown stallion emerges from the woods with a dark haired man riding in his saddle. He holds a rifle in one hand and clutches the reins tightly in the other. 

Gasping, you whirl around on the heel of your boot and immediately make a beeline back to the boulder. You swing around the rock and crouch down, ducking out of his sight. You couldn’t be too sure if he’d seen you or not, but it doesn’t matter—a wave of sheer panic washes over you and you can physically feel your own body preparing itself to go into fight or flight mode. Despite having your gun tucked into the waistband of your jeans, you still haven’t reached for it and continue to clutch your bow and arrow in your hands instead. 

Swallowing dryly, you turn and carefully lift yourself up just enough so that you can glimpse over the top of the boulder. That’s when you see a second man emerge from the woods. This one is blond and he is on foot instead of a horse. He’s also armed, carrying a shotgun. 

“You’re mine you fucking son of a bitch!” he shouts. He lifts his weapon, aims, and then squeezes the trigger, shooting the horse in the side and bringing him down instantly. His rider goes flying off and he hits the ground several feet away from the dead animal, landing so painfully hard that even from a distance you’d manage to hear the loud, cracking sound his body had made upon impact.

You momentarily freeze. 

Your heart anxiously jumps up into your throat as you watch the shooter begin to approach him. The attacker moves slowly and with no haste seeing as his helpless victim is lying there motionless on the ground with his eyes closed and no idea that he’s about to die. The blond man comes to a halt just a few feet away from him, grinning as he lifts his shotgun once again and points the barrel of it at the other man’s head. His index finger hovers over the trigger. 

Before your mind and body can even make the connection, you rise to your feet and aim your bow, swiftly sending an arrow straight through the blond man’s neck. He crumples, falling to the ground writhing and squirming as he bleeds out in less than sixty seconds.

You wait it out for another minute, refusing to move another muscle until his body finally goes limp and you are certain he’s dead. Taking a look around, you make sure the coast is clear and grab your belongings, slinging them over your shoulder before you make your way over to the scene. Unsure of whether or not there could be others heading in this direction, your plan was to pick off their guns and any other useful supplies before making a run for it back to the cabin. You crouch down beside the man you’d shot and killed, carefully pulling your arrow out of his neck. It makes a loud, horrid squelching sound as you remove it and blood from his jugular splatters your blue jeans. You then pick up his shotgun and check the chamber for ammunition. 

Just like the pistol tucked away in your waistband, there’s hardly any rounds left, making it all but useless. Rolling your eyes, you carelessly drop the gun on top of his chest and move on in search of the rifle. You spot it right beside the dark haired man.

Apprehensive, you cautiously make your way over towards him. With how still he had been lying, you could have sworn he was gone—perhaps the fall off of his horse alone had killed him. But just to be sure, you decide to give his side a harsh nudge with the toe of your boot. 

He groans and his head rolls to the side.

He’s still alive.

You effortlessly string the bloodied arrow in your hand and aim it right at his chest.

Move again and you’re dead, motherfucker.

“Ellie,” the man mumbles, his eyes still closed.

Ellie?

You slowly lower your bow.

Without realizing it, a little bit of your guard lowers along with it. 

Carefully, you sink down onto one knee next to the man and get a better look at him. He’s much older than yourself, somewhere in his fifties if you had to guess. He has harsh forehead lines, deep creases in between his eyebrows, a patchy beard that is speckled with many, many grays, and wild waves of thick hair that look soft to the touch. Though some of his features are a little worse for wear due to his age, he’s still quite a handsome man from what you can see. He also appears to be in decent shape, clean and well fed, and you detect the light scent of laundry soap on his clothes. Surely, he had to have been part of some kind of group, and judging by the leather trimmed saddle on his horse, this group was one that was very well off in this post outbreak world. 

You hesitate, but then lift a slightly trembling hand and take the side of his face, cupping it in your palm as you turn his head towards you. 

There’s blood on his right temple and your fingers reach up to touch what you had assumed was the source of the bleeding—but then you realize it was a scar, maybe an inch or two in length at most and completely healed. Your fingers trail up even further and venture into his hair which, as it turned out, is in fact just as soft as one would imagine. You find a small gash on his scalp and your fingers become coated in the man’s blood.

Must’ve hit himself on a rock or something.

Your hand leaves his hair and you place it on his broad chest as you begin checking him over for any other potential injuries or wounds. Slipping your opposite hand inside of his brown jacket, you lift the hem of the dark green thermal henley he’s wearing and you discover the scar on his temple isn’t the only one he possesses—he has several more, way too many for you to count on one hand alone. You’re so preoccupied with inspecting the remainder of his abdomen that you don’t even notice the way one of his hands is slowly reaching for yours, the hand that’s still resting on his chest, right over his heartbeat.

Semiconscious, the man takes your hand in his so damn gently that it startles you and takes you by surprise, but it doesn’t frighten you. Weakly, he laces his fingers together with your own and he speaks again, uttering softly, “Babygirl.”

Puzzled, your eyebrows knit together.

It almost sounds like he’s pleading.

For what—for who? For Ellie?

Is she the babygirl he’s referring to?

Your other hand moves up to his shoulder and you give it a violent shake. 

Hey, you’ve got to get up now.

“H—” You try to speak the words, but can’t. They’re formed in your mind and it feels like they are right there on the very tip of your tongue, but when you open your mouth, they refuse to come out. You frown.

It’s happened before. 

In the spring, you’d stumbled across a small group of people while out hunting in Idaho—it was the first time you had seen other human beings since leaving California in the fall. There had been both men and women and they even had children with them, but that did nothing to stop you from panicking when they’d approached you. One of the women cornered you, trying to tell you that they were traveling across the country to the east coast. “It’s okay,” she’d tried to tell you, holding up her hands. “We’re not bad people, I promise. We’re just trying to get to the quarantine zone in Boston. I think you should come with us, honey.”

You’d been so terrified that when you’d tried to tell her that you didn’t want to join them, you couldn’t push the words out. It felt like your voice had gotten stuck in the back of your throat. That’s how afraid you’d been.

Technically, you can speak.

You’d talk to yourself often when you were feeling lonely. You would read the books you carried in your pack out loud. Hell, you even liked to sing.

But whenever you became stressed, anxious, or scared, it would happen. You’d lose your ability to speak and to communicate—not that you had anyone to communicate with except for yourself, but that’s besides the point. No matter how hard you tried to force your vocal cords, all you could get out were quiet, strangled noises. It was as if your own fears chased your voice away and during periods when you were under extreme distress, it would take several days for you to find it again. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that, whenever you used your voice back in California, it only led to the harshest of punishments. 

A gunshot sounds off in the distance, snapping you out of your train of thought.

You shake the man again, harder this time.

Come on, get up! They could be coming this way!

It’s useless. He’s losing complete consciousness. 

You hear another gunshot and this one sounds like it’s coming from the base of the mountain range on the other side of the trees, not all too far from where you are. For all you know, it could very well be members of his own group who are firing those weapons out there. But whether it was his group or the other man’s group, it doesn’t really fucking matter. You don’t want to run into either one of them, regardless of who were the good guys and who were the bad guys. In your eyes, everyone’s a fucking bad guy. 

Yanking your hand out of his, you get to your feet and prepare to make a run for it. But just as you’re about to take off, the man mumbles one last time. It’s incoherent and barely audible, but you manage to catch that name again. Ellie. 

Ellie, Ellie, Ellie.

For some reason you can’t quite explain, that sweet little name bounces around in the inside of your skull. 

You chew the inside of your cheek anxiously. 

If it’s his group out there, they’ll save him.

If it’s the other man’s group, they’ll kill him.

Normally, you’d have no problem with the idea of leaving another person to die.

After everything that happened in California, you had lost your sense of humanity. Your ability to empathize and actually give a shit about other people had been long gone—or so you’d thought. But you had just saved this man’s life and now you find yourself unwilling to run the risk of leaving him for dead. And you don’t have the slightest fucking clue as to why. He’s a stranger. He shouldn’t matter to you. 

You exhale a heavy sigh of defeat.

Okay, how the fuck do I do this?

Without much time left to waste, you gather up your belongings over your shoulder and pick up his rifle, slinging the brown leather strap across your chest so the gun rests comfortably against your backside. You walk around him, lean over, and hook your arms securely underneath his. Using every ounce of physical strength you have inside of you, you start dragging him back to the cabin as fast as you possibly can.

The pretty melody fills his ears as he comes to.

“Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high

there’s a land that I heard of once in a lullaby…”

Joel Miller isn’t all too sure if heaven is a real place that actually exists, but the very minute he hears the feminine voice singing, he can’t help but think he’s died and that’s exactly where he’s gone—because only an angel could possibly have a voice like that. So rich, so smooth, and oh so sickeningly sweet.

“Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue...”

The ballad being sung is all too familiar to him.

The Wizard of Oz had been Sarah’s favorite movie back when she had been a little girl, when she was seven years old and she still believed in princesses and fairy tales and faraway lands with yellow brick roads. Even when she grew older, his daughter continued to hold a soft spot for the film and Joel would watch it with her every Thanksgiving at his parents’ house right after their dinner—it would air on cable and Sarah would beg him to let her have her slice of pecan pie while sitting cross legged on the floor in front of his old man’s television set.

“So long as you don’t make a mess on Nana and PopPop’s carpet,” he’d warn her. “Deal?”

Sarah would beam at him and nod eagerly. “Deal!”

He’d grab his own slice of pie, park it right on the couch behind her, and together they would get lost in the whimsical world of Oz, although admittedly he’d usually fall deep into his food coma long before Dorothy had the chance to make it back home to Kansas.  

“Where troubles melt like lemon drops

away above the chimney tops 

that’s where you’ll find me...”

The words fade and the rest of the song is now being hummed.

Goddamn, he thinks.Even the humming is too fucking beautiful.

Joel feels a cold, damp cloth dabbing at his sore right temple.

Come to think of it, everything is fucking sore. 

Once, when Joel had been in his mid twenties, he had been doing some under the table roofing job with his younger brother, Tommy. It had been the hottest day of the summer in Texas, and the two of them thought having a couple cold beers with their lunch to cool off would be a good idea. The pair of them went back to work and started fucking around, goofing off like the drunk idiots they were. While horsing around, Joel accidentally stumbled right over the edge of the roof and he had fallen about fifteen feet to the ground, landing on his back on Mrs. Adler’s lawn. Luckily, he’d been okay after the fall and hadn’t sustained any serious injuries or broken any bones, but he had spent the following three to four weeks feeling like he’d been hit by a fucking Greyhound.

That’s how he felt now.

Like he’d been hit by a fucking bus. Twice. There isn’t a single part of him that isn’t pulsating with pain—his back, his shoulders, and his head. Oh god, his head feels the worst. It’s fucking killing him. 

Joel’s eyelids twitch and he cracks them open ever so slightly, just enough that he can see the silhouette of another person hovering over him. He feels a hand at the crown of his head as the other continues to dab at his temple with the cool cloth. It feels incredible against his warm skin and even sort of soothes the pain.

He lets out a small groan and the humming ceases.

Finally, he manages to force his eyes open.

Joel hears a little gasp and the bed he’s lying on squeaks and shifts. He then hears a loud thumping sound as if something, or someone had fallen to the floor. 

Although he’s still disoriented and his entire body aches with even the slightest movement, Joel manages to push himself up into a sitting position. Blinking rapidly, his blurred vision steadies itself after a minute and he glances around. He’s in a small, single room wooden cabin that has seen better days in its lifetime. Looking down, he sees that he’s lying on a bare, worn out mattress with his own jacket draped over him like a blanket. He racks his mildly concussed brain, trying to recollect what had happened—it takes him a minute, but one by one, the memories start flooding back to him. Joel had been leading mid morning patrol with Tommy when they had been ambushed by a large group of hostile raiders. He remembers shouting at his brother, telling him that he’d try and lead some of them off, away from the direction of their community. He’d succeeded and managed to pick off a few of the bastards that had been tailing him with his rifle, all except for one. The very last thing that he remembered was the sound of a gunshot behind him before his horse went down and he’d been thrown off and knocked out.

Everything after that was nothing but a blur.

Joel takes another look around the cabin and that’s when he sees you.

You’re on the floor, backed up against the wall near the foot of the mattress. Your eyes are wide and round, like a deer caught in the headlights. Your chest heaves, rising and falling rapidly—you remind him of a helpless, frightened animal that had been cornered by a vicious predator. You clutch the handle of a switchblade up against your chest with the blade pointing downwards, holding it so tightly in your hand that Joel can see the skin stretching tightly over your knuckles. 

“Who the hell are you?” He grimaces slightly, his own voice causing his head to throb. 

You don’t reply.

Joel moves onto his next question. “Where am I?”

Again, no response.

He tries again. “Are you alone?”

Silence. 

Joel takes a better look at you.

You’re young. You couldn’t have been older than your late twenties, perhaps even your early thirties although that might have been a bit of a stretch. You had that look about you, one that had become all but too familiar to him in the last two decades—the exhausted appearance of someone trying to survive in the post outbreak world. Your face is tired and worn, but somehow still soft and youthful at the same time. You might have looked a little rough around the edges, but you’re still the prettiest goddamn thing he’s seen in a long, long time. 

Joel speaks again. “Who are you? Where the hell are we?” When he’s met with complete silence for the fourth time, he raises an eyebrow, feeling annoyed. “You gonna fuckin’ say somethin’ or what?”

You can only stare at him, your fingers wrapped around the handle of your knife in a vice-like grip.

Joel frowns.

Are you really that fucking terrified of him?

Or perhaps you can’t hear?

Only one way to find out, he thinks to himself.

He raises his voice, asking once again, “Who are you? Where are we?”

You wince, your features twisting in discomfort.

Oh, you could fucking hear him, alright. 

Joel swings his legs over the side of the mattress, his movement causing you to shrink back further against the wall, almost as if you were trying to become a part of the old, rotted wood. He holds up his two hands, demonstrating that he has no plans to move another muscle towards you. “How long have I been out?”

He tries to show some patience and gives you a minute, gives you a chance to respond, but when you say nothing, he can’t help but sigh out in frustration. Just when he’s about to force himself to come to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t be getting any kind of answers out of you, you lift your free hand and hold up three trembling fingers. 

His stomach sinks. “Three days? I’ve been out for three fuckin’ days?”

You give him a nod so tiny and so subtle that he would’ve missed it had he blinked.

“Fuck,” Joel curses, hanging his head. He begins to spiral.

What happened to Tommy? And the others? 

Did they make it out alive?

And then Ellie’s face flashes in his mind, causing the blood in his veins to run ice cold. 

What could she possibly be thinking right now after he’d been missing for three whole days? Who was taking care of her and looking after her while he wasn’t there?

He needed to get back to Jackson—he needed to get back to Ellie.

He wasn’t sure how he would be able to do that if you didn’t start talking soon and answering his goddamn questions.

Lifting his head, Joel looks over at you again. 

“You all by yourself?”

You hesitate, but then nod in reply. Yes.

Joel sighs, his tense shoulders relaxing. That’s a start. “Listen, I’m gonna need a little help here, alright? I don’t remember much ‘bout what happened. I’m part of a community. I was out on patrol with my group when we were attacked by raiders. There were too many of them and I tried to lead some of them away,” he explains. He might not have known what had happened after he’d been thrown off of his horse, but the fact that he’s in your cabin and he’s alive help him piece at least one part of the puzzle together. “Wait a minute. Did you—did you save me out there?”

Sucking in your bottom lip, you nod again.

Stunned, Joel’s eyebrows raise up towards his hairline. “You fuckin’ serious?” he can’t help but question in complete and utter disbelief. Skeptically, he presses, “But how? What happened out there? How did you get me here all by yourself?” His queries spill from his lips one after the other despite knowing most of them, if not all of them, would go unanswered.

You look overwhelmed by them—by him.

Figuring it’s best to take it one slow step at a time, Joel stands up and he cautiously walks over towards you. He holds out his hand. “S’alright,” he assures you in the most gentle voice he can muster. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

You refuse to loosen your grip on your knife, but you accept his hand and allow him to help you up to your feet. Given that you didn’t lodge the blade straight through his chest, Joel would say some progress had been made. 

He releases your hand and takes a step backwards to give you your space. He isn’t too sure if you can’t talk or simply don’t want to talk—still thinking you’d been the woman he’d heard singing when he had drifted back into consciousness, he guesses it’s probably the latter. 

Joel tries to think of questions he knows you’ll be able to answer without having to speak. 

“How long have you been by yourself?”

Shifting anxiously from one foot to the other, you hold up one finger. 

“Sorry darlin’ but that don’t really help me much,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Are we talkin’ one week? One month?”

You make a gesture with your hand. Keep going.

“One year?” He doesn’t bother hiding his blatant skepticism. “You’ve been completely alone for one whole year?”

You point at him. That’s right. 

Joel is beside himself. He’s almost in awe over the fact that you’ve survived on your own for so fucking long.

“You got any other weapons besides that knife?”

You nod over towards a bow and sheath of arrows next to your backpack.

“You’re kiddin’ me. That’s all you’ve got?”

You narrow your eyes at him.

Hey, it’s a good weapon and it saved your fucking life, thank you very much.

“Sorry. Just can’t imagine that thing would do much against a clicker. ‘Specially if your aim is shit,” Joel muses. He notices the offended expression on your face and quickly moves on. “You don’t have a gun at all?”

You reach behind yourself and pull out a colt pistol from the waistband of your jeans. You finally set down your knife and then show him that you’re low on ammunition and don’t have any more. Tucking the gun back into your jeans, you step around him and walk over to a corner where his rifle is propped up against the wall. You pick it up, make your way back over to him and hand it over. 

I believe this belongs to you.

“Thank you,” he utters quietly, taking it from you. “And I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout the gun, either. I honestly don’t think I’d be standin’ here alive if you hadn’t done whatever it was you did out there.” His eyes try meeting yours. “I’m serious, darlin’. I owe you one. I really fuckin’ do.”

You shrug, too timid to meet his gaze.

“I’m Joel,” he says after a minute, setting his rifle down. “What’s your name?”

You simply stare at him.

“Oh that’s right,” Joel mumbles sheepishly. “You can’t—” He stops himself, but he’s sure you know what he’d meant to say.

You can’t talk.

“You got a pencil or somethin’ to write with?”

You snort and roll your eyes at him. No, sorry. Silly me totally forgot to pick up a pack of pencils while I was out scavenging for supplies the other day.

Joel chuckles and holds up his hands in defense. “Figured it was at least worth askin’,” he says. “It’d be kinda nice to know the name of the person who saved my fuckin’ ass, you know.” He clocks the way the corners of your mouth threaten to turn upwards into a tiny smile at his remark. “How ‘bout a map? You got one of those so you can show me where we are?”

You hold up a finger, as if telling him to give you a minute. Digging into one of the front pockets of your pack, you pull out a large map of the state of Wyoming. It’s severely creased, as if you’ve folded and unfolded it hundreds of times. You hand it over to him and as he holds it out for you, you point to your current location. 

“Jackson’s ‘bout fifteen miles south from here,” Joel murmurs as he scans the map. Suddenly, his dark brown eyes flicker over your wrist—the long sleeve of your thin gray shirt had hiked up, exposing severe discoloration and scarring that went all the way around, marking your skin. 

Noticing where his gaze had wandered off to, you quickly retract your hand away from the map and tug your sleeve down back into place. But it’d been much too late. He had seen the mark, clear as fucking day. 

Joel awkwardly clears his throat and for the sake of not causing you any discomfort, he pretends he hadn’t seen a goddamn thing. He turns his attention back to the map. “Remember how I told you I’m a part of a community? It’s in Jackson and it ain’t all too far from here,” he states, peering up at you from over the top of the map. “The town’s gated and it’s secure. You’ll be safe there. If we head out right now, we can make it there by nightfall—”

You back away from him, shaking your head.

I’m not going with you.

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Look darlin’, I don’t mean to offend, but you ain’t gonna last a whole lot longer out here on your own, especially not in a place like this with winter right around the corner. If you don’t starve to death, then you’ll fuckin’ freeze to death.”

You glare at him and lift your chin.

I’ve been doing just fine on my own, thanks. 

Having read your mind, Joel sighs. “Alright, fair enough. You’ve gotten this far by yourself, but that don’t mean you gotta turn down an offer for some help. Just come with me to Jackson—”

You shake your head even harder.

The last time that you had agreed to go back with a stranger to their camp, you’d been imprisoned. Tortured. 

Joel observes you, and it doesn’t take him very long to connect the dots between the scars around your wrists and your refusal to leave with him. His hard, stony face softens. “Listen sweetheart, I ain’t all too sure ‘bout what’s happened to you,” he says, choosing his words carefully. “But I can assure you that you ain’t gotta worry ‘bout a thing this time around. Just come with me and I’ll prove it to you.”

You toss him a skeptical look.

“Jackson is a safe place,” he swears. “My brother runs it along with his wife and a small council. There’s families, lots of children—hell I’ve got a kid myself. Teenager. Her name is Ellie and she’s fifteen years old.”

Your lips part slightly and your eyes glimmer with something that looks a lot like recognition, though Joel can’t be too sure what had prompted it. Perhaps you’d known someone with that name once in your life. 

“There���s plenty of food, running water, electricity,” he lists off in an attempt to sway you. “It’d be a shot at a normal life. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Crossing your arms, you lift your chin again.

You’d heard that before.

Why the hell should I even trust you? Why should I trust this place is what you say it is?

Joel bites back another frustrated sigh. 

Normally, he wouldn’t bother to put up with such stubbornness. He wasn’t one to plead or beg and part of him almost wanted to give up so he could be on his way, but you had saved him from being killed. He owed you his fucking life. He had to get you to go with him. He wouldn’t give up until you agreed to go to Jackson with him. 

“I’ll let you carry your weapons,” he offers as a compromise. “Hell, you can even walk behind me with your gun pointed at the back of my fuckin’ head if that’s gonna make you feel safest.”

You squint at him. Really?

“Or that bow of yours,” he adds, chuckling softly. “It’s your pick, darlin’. Whatever’s gonna make you feel comfortable. I’ll trust you not to shoot an arrow through the back of my skull—all I ask in return is that you at least make an attempt to trust me too. I think that’s a fair enough deal. Don’t you?”

You bite your bottom lip. 

I don’t know about this.

“I really don’t wanna leave you out here all alone,” Joel says, taking a step closer towards you. He finds himself feeling surprised that it hadn’t startled you and he only hopes that means that, to some degree, you trust him already. “Please. You saved my life—and I know you probably don’t need me savin’ yours, but at least let me take you to Jackson so you can see for yourself what we’ve got goin’ on there. If you don’t like it and you don’t wanna stay, then we’ll load up your pack with food and supplies. We’ll put you on a horse and you can be on your way. You can choose to leave and no one will lift a finger to stop you, I’ll make sure of it. How does that sound?”

He waits, giving you a chance to think it over.

Finally, after a minute, you sigh and reluctantly nodd your head. 

Okay. I’m gonna try and trust you.

“Good,” Joel says, softly. “Now get your stuff and let’s head out before we start losin’ daylight.” 

[elen-benfelen]

welsh remus guide pt.1

As a casual marauders fan (if such a thing exists lmao), I’ve noticed a growing love/interest towards Remus being Welsh and exploring what this means regarding accent, mannerisms and language. Seeing Welsh being butchered by the use of google translate, whilst understandable that people would turn to it, is actually physically painful at times. And so!! I’ve decided to start collecting some language tips and bits of info to help anyone who wants to Welshify their Remus. The source? My upbringing as a first language Welsh speaker in South-West Wales.

The most popular head canons I’ve seen, some based on scraps of info from canon, is that Remus is either South Walian (specifically South-East Wales - aka the Cardiff area) or North Walian. I’ve only lived in North Wales for just under a month so I have a rough idea of NW slang but I’m no expert. I have lived in Cardiff for about 3 years so I have a stronger grasp on broad South Walian slang.

This is to say - I will try and give words and bits of info I think would be useful to know but my ask box is always open to more specific questions. I’m also a nerd towards the Welsh language so this is going to be an unnecessarily deep dive into it.

First Lesson

Gogs - North Walians

Hwntws - South Walians

Gogs (short for Gogledd meaning North) and Hwntws have an age old rivalry. Our accents are very different and even our Welsh can have a huge variety of slang and accents.

Examples:

Milk - Llaeth (Hwntw) Llefrith (Gog)

Now - Nawr (H) Rwan (G)

Whilst plenty of Welsh folks have very English sounding accents, if someone has a distinctly Welsh accent you can usually tell pretty quickly where they’re from. Accents within the Welsh language itself tend to be rather strong and distinctive for most people. It is extremely common for someone to ask you where you’re from once they find out you speak Welsh. Probably cause Wales isn’t that big and only like 20% ish of us speak Welsh??? Idk. It just is a thing. So like:

“O, da chi’n siarad Cymraeg?” (Oh, you speak Welsh?)

“Ydw! Wyt ti o’r Gogledd?” (I do! Are you from the North?)

“Yndw, dwi o Gaernarfon. Ble yda chi’n byw?” (I do, I’m from Caernarfon. Where do you live?)

“Fi o Rhydaman.” (I’m from Ammanford.)

Hopefully that dialogue feels human and not like two robots talking but you get the gist of it lmao. So, for those of you who want to make another of the characters, such as Lily, Welsh as well, it wouldn’t be out of place for them to try and establish where the other is from when first meeting. But also be aware that their slang and language would be different if they’re not from the same area (as with any language or country).

Conclusion: You cannot slap the blanket label of Welsh on Remus and then have him speak any old welsh and use any slang and such. So either choose somewhere specific or throw a dart and stick with where it lands.

Note: I am not the collective consciousness of every Welsh person. My experience is not universal - especially when it comes to North Walian things. This is just meant to serve as a general guide. Hope this helps and good luck with your writing!

pt.2

[luvrsux]

“Mon Amour”

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

word count: 3.8k

summary: after your romantic moment with the new french member of your job, he takes you out to the fanciest restaurant you’ve ever seen (see part one for context)

cw: NSFW, car sex, fingering

You stared deep down at your figure that wore your favorite dress. It wasn’t casual, it was the most fanciest dress you had stored in your closet. You hadn’t worn this dress since the day you bought it, wore it only once just to see if it fit you. In terms of actually wearing it outdoors, it was newborn. You ran your palms from your chest to your thighs where the hem laid. You thought you looked presentable.

What was still remaining was jewelry and your shoes. You made sure you patted on a small weight of makeup and styled your hair to your hearts content. Tracing back on your romantic history, you’ve forgotten the last time you had a date.

Your history with romantic relationships wasn’t the best, but at this point, who’s wasn’t? This Sanji person was still quite the mystery, but hopefully this date would change all of that. You had already exchange numbers for better contact.

You suddenly heard a drum at your front door. You don’t remember giving the chef the okay to waltz into your apartment complex so freely. Knowing that, you anxiously approached the door to open it.

To your surprise, and complete relief, you saw a tall, muscular cowboy with a bright orange tank top. It irked you how this man can effortlessly wear summer attire in brisk, cold weather.

“Ace, so great to see you at such a fortunate time” You spoke in nothing but sarcasm, and Ace caught on perfectly just seemingly didn’t care a bit.

He pushed himself inside your apartment like he owned the place with a bright smile. You sighed and closed the door shut.

“It’s been forever, (F/N)!” He gleamed. You remembered the last time you and Ace interacted and it had only been a few weeks.

You and Ace had a strong friendship, though. Since high school, you were two pees in a pod. He was a painfully popular jock while you kept to your own set of friends on the sidelines. Despite his overwhelming popularity, it never shaded his pure love he had for you, although he constantly pushes your buttons with every interaction.

“Also why are you fancy pancy? Goin’ somewhere?” He asked, leaning against your kitchen island. You glanced at the clock that was propped up conveniently on the wall. The time read 4:44 PM, twenty whole minutes before Sanji would come pick you up.

“Yeah, I am” You replied as you grabbed two glasses in your cupboard. You didn’t think it’ll hurt if you shared a drink with Ace before your departure.

“I feel so under dressed, jeez” He chuckled, resting his broad arms on the marble table. You poured him a small glass of regular pop while you elegantly had a glass of wine.

“Hey! How come I get treated like a toddler while you down a cup of wine! I’m older than you, (F/N)” Ace pouted. You giggled as you swallowed your swig of wine. Despite his childish demeanor, Ace still sipped his pop. It was soda after all.

“You have a drinking problem, Portgas” You pointed with your glass. “One drink turns into, three, then four, then five…” You extended your words and Ace seemed to get the gist.

“Besides, I only have wine. You don’t like wine” You took yet another swig. Ace swirled his cup of regular soda and shrugged in defeat.

…

“Checkmate”

Is all he could muster up. You giggled and gently placed your cup down. The glass interacting echoed in the kitchen. Ace eyed you up and down.

“Where you headed?” He finally asked. You hesitated on giving him an honest answer just to avoid him teasing you like an older brother would. I mean, that’s how you viewed him anyway.

“A date” You sheepishly replied, turning your head away to avoid eye contact. Ace was in the middle of a sip and you could’ve sworn you saw the pop squirt out his mouth, maybe his nose even.

“Date!? How shocking” Ace chuckled, wiping his mouth but oddly not the table he spilled on. You grumbled and yanked off a power towel nearby.

“You act like I’m a hermit crab, Ace” It only took a swipe or two to clean off Ace’s area.

“He’s a new guy from my job” You curved yet another sheepish smile. Ace chuckled.

“Isn’t that not allowed?” Ace remarked. You paused for a moment. It wasn’t illegal per se, just against code of conduct. But considering how Sanji had a carefree attitude and mainly focused on you and your wellbeing, you thought it was no biggie.

“Trust me, this guy basically runs the place already”

Your statement made Ace raise an eyebrow. You quickly caught on but decided not to explain in full depth. You didn’t know how well you and Sanji would turn out, so you held off on boasting about him for now.

“He made a great first impression at the restaurant, is all” You had bright smile. Ace knew you had much more to imply but decided not to pry.

“Well, glad to see you all giddy about it” Ace continued to drink his soda. “Let me know how everything goes”

You nod in agreement. Your wine glass had already been almost done and you had roughly about ten minutes before Sanji would escort you to the restaurant.

“My rowdy little brother has been asking about you and I decided to stop by to check in” Ace stood tall from his leaning posture. It seemed as if he was bummed to leave so soon but he had no other choice.

“Luffy, is it?” You tilted your head. You received a nod from Ace as well as a smile. His freckles framing his cheeks perfectly.

“I’ll let him know you’re doing fine”

You and Luffy met once or twice before. He was scruffy and always in his own little world. You thought it was quite adorable but you barely hung around him like that. It touched your heart seeing how he still cared about you despite only meeting a few times.

“Let’s hang out this weekend, you hermit” Ace approached the front door. You were behind him to formally escort him out.

“I’m not asking by the way” He chuckled before holding you in a tight embrace. One thing you loved most about the shaggy haired cowboy was his constantly warm body temperature. It always comforted you even on the most sorrowful nights.

“Of course, Ace. I’d love to”

Ace pulled away and had a half smile while he stood at the doorway. The small, sentimental moment was disrupted by his hand flicking your forehead. You let a small yelp escape your lips.

“Be safe and have fun, idiot” Ace let out a hearty laugh after witnessing your expression. You pushed him out the doorway playfully and shut the door. You could faintly hear his laughs as he exited the hallway.

“Loser…” You giggled.

In a faint distance, you heard your familiar ringtone from your room. You assumed it was Vinsmoke since it was about time he pulled up. You scurried your bare feet on the hardwood floor to your room where you picked up the phone. You tried to keep your composure.

“Hi!” You chirped.

“Evening, mon amour”

The voice soothed your ears and you felt your knees grow weak. You formed a gushing smile with your lips out of pure instinct.

“Are you on your way, or is Mr. Prince still going to keep me waiting” You cooed, sliding to your closet to find matching heels for your dress. You heard a small chuckle from his end.

“Don’t worry, dear. Mr. Prince is not for from the castle” He said, referring to your residency. The fact he implied he was close by made your nerves suddenly come crashing down. You prayed you didn’t start sweating.

“I’ll see you soon, then” You tried to play it off cool.

“Of course, dear”

With that, you hung up the phone. As soon as the line disconnected, you didn’t hesitate a second to throw on your elegant shoes and scramble anything that appropriately belongs in a purse.

Ace did consume some of your prep time and you didn’t even realize it. You weren’t bothered by it, though. You still loved Ace as if he was your own blood.

You took one last glance in your vanity to make sure nothing was smudged or out of place before scurrying out your apartment. It didn’t take long for the chime of your phone to signal the blonde was now outside.

You had a bright smile on your face while you excitedly trotted down the steps. Before you could open the two main front doors, you made sure to relax and keep your composure.

Sanji, on the other hand, was arguably more nervous than you were. Deep down, he couldn’t believe he was able to snag a date like you. He was pumped the entirety of him getting ready but, of course, he leaned against his rather expensive ride with a cigarette puffing out his mouth nonchalantly.

He eyed you as you walked down the last set of steps onto the pavement. The way your legs moved side to side with each step had Sanji in a chokehold, not even realizing the drop dead outfit you had around you. He could feel his cigarette, slip out his mouth before he quickly made sure it didn’t escape from his agape lips. In that moment, Sanji felt like the luckiest man alive to be breathing the same air as you.

You walked up to him with glistening eyes and a small smile. Sanji immediately grabbed your hand to kiss it, similarly to your previous interaction. You giggled.

“You look beyond stunning” He spoke truthfully while staring in the depths of your pupils. You felt your heart flutter.

“Why thank you”

Sanji chuckled and opened the passenger door. You gushed at his kind gesture and slid your body into his car. Sanji closed the door shut and approached his designated side of the car.

∴∵∴ ୨��� ∴∵∴

The drive to the restaurant was quite lengthy. You realized you were getting closer to the restaurant once you saw a more bright, populated city-like atmosphere. People roaming the dark streets either wore similar attire as you and the driver or something straight out of a business meeting. This was definitely the expensive side of town.

Sanji had a window open on his side with his arm extended to let the smoke freely air out. He effortlessly had one hand on the wheel and was slouched in his chair. During the ride, he formed small talk to melt the tension between you two.

“Have you ever been on this side of town?” He abruptly asked. His voice, that you loved so much, snapped you out of your gaze out your window.

“Not often, maybe once before��� You replied.

“I feel bad for you” Sanji chuckled, which spewed a small giggle from your lips. The city was rather beautiful but it was far too much for your wallet, not to mention the distance.

“I live around here, so I’m used to this atmosphere” Sanji continued. That explained his careless posture. He knew these streets from the back of his hand. “Traffic is a pain though” He grumbled. Coincidentally, the car halted in traffic. It was bound to happen. This was the city.

“You live here? In this city?” You asked. Sanji took a puff from his cigarette. He exhaled the smoke, leaning his neck out the window so the smoke couldn’t disturb you.

“Yep, it’s quite nice” He replied.

You wondered how much money Sanji made in order for him to reside in an expensive city like this. He did mention before he was a five star chef and was widely known in certain areas, but you questioned how vast his income was.

“Living here would be a dream” You breathed, once again admiring the buildings and lights that illuminated the streets beautifully. You didn’t know a town this lively and beautiful was even possible. Your remark made Sanji chuckle. Your enthusiasm was adorable in his eyes.

“Do we have a reservation?” You asked curiously. Sanji nodded slowly.

“And I’d hate to see it go to waste by lousy drivers like this moron” He grumbled, glaring at the car in front. The driver was driving quite slow for either of your liking. You giggled at his anger.

Soon enough, he pulled up into a grand building that was twice the size of your own apartment complex. You eyed the building in pure awe.

‘This was the restaurant?’ You thought. It was immense, and completely formal. As you glistened at the building, Sanji tossed his keys to the valet upfront. The place was that fancy to have one.

He stood by you with an arm to hook yourself onto. You gladly wrapped your arms around his own and strut up the restaurant building.

The inside was just as, if not more, beautiful on the inside. There were more chandeliers up top than you could count. Faint classical music sang throughout the building while clinks of glass and plates were echoing about. Sanji approached the front booth with a smile.

“Sanji” The host smiled. You perked your head to the sudden familiarity with the Host and your date. He chuckled.

“My reservation?” He smiled. The Host grabbed a menu from the front desk and gestured the two to follow on their tail behind.

You saw the tables and the overall dining as you strut through the restaurant. It was beginning to be too much. You weren’t used to the overflowing fanciness of this restaurant.

The circular tables were drastically different than the ones at the restaurant you worked at. The tables each had authentic floral center pieces with real candles to illuminate them. The candles were cooped up in a cup to make assure no emergencies would occur. The napkins and utensils were organized with pure elegance.

The Host finally approached the table you were would dine in. The table sat comfortably by a grand window that displayed more of the cities beauty. You gasped in awe.

Sanji immediately extended your chair first before anything else. You watched him as you plopped down comfortably in the chair before he pushed you in the table.

“Your waiter will be out shortly” The host smiled as they watched Sanji sit in his own seat across from you. You eyed the table at a closer glance and your nerves began to finally sit. You began to run through the whole scenery and it was too good to be true.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?” He asked curiously. Judging by his expression, he looked like he was ready to scoop you into his arms to comfort you. Surely your expression wasn’t that obvious, was it?

You nervously giggled.

“Sorry it’s just” You cleared your throat. “Never been in such a fancy place like this…”

Sanji grabbed your hand to meet his. His thumb grazed against your hand with ease. You immediately felt a lot calmer than when you first stepped foot in here.

“We can go someplace more comfortable for you if you’d like” Sanji offered. You quickly shook your head to object.

“No, no!” You felt guilty.

“This place is beautiful, I’d hate to miss out” You partially lied through your teeth. You didn’t want to disappoint the blonde in front despite him being transparent that he wouldn’t mind.

“Evening, love birds” A more deeper voice came from the side. A swole, green haired man approached the table with formal uniform and a notepad. You smiled innocently.

Meanwhile Sanji looked like he was ready to scorch the waiter with his own lighter. He knew he did this on purpose.

‘On second thought, maybe leaving was the best option…’ Sanji cursed internally.

The waitress had a smug grin on his face while he eyed the two of you. His toned arms carried a bottle what assumed to be expensive fine wine. He gently placed the bottle on the clothed table and corked it open.

“Today’s wine of choice is Chateau Ponet Canet Pauillac” His pronunciation could use a little work but you cut him some slack. Sanji gave him an annoyed look as he poured the beverage.

“Thanks” He said sourly.

“Mosshead” Sanji mumbled. The waiter seemed to hear him loud and clear. He gave him a kick on the ankle in response, knowing Sanji couldn’t do anything besides wince and glare.

“Do you two need more time with the menu or are you all set?” The green haired man asked innocently. You grazed your fingers to open the menu and felt completely puzzled.

“I could use a bit more time, thank you” You giggled out of embarrassment. The waiter nodded.

“Of course, take your time”

The waiter glared at the blonde once more before turning off to his other duties. The tension between your date and the person that served you was crystal clear. You couldn’t help but grow concerned, as a waitress yourself.

‘How is he so polite to you but not service workers?’

“Sanji,” You spoke, taking your eyes off the fancy menu for a brief moment. He hummed, averting all his attention to you. You noticed that his menu was absent. His side of the table was completely left blank.

“Do you come here that often?” You asked curiously. He raised a swirly eyebrow and observed his surroundings. The host knowing his name. His odd relationship with the waiter. The fact his menu was nowhere to be seen. Cat was beginning to spring out the bag.

“I-“ He stammered. There was no use to lying to a gorgeous face like that he thought.

“I work here”

His response was completely different than what you had expected. You assumed that he dined here so often that he didn’t need a menu or anything. You paused.

“Work?” Is all you could muster up. Sanji nodded in a slow pace.

“I have for years. I practically grew up here when this place was nothing” He explained. You appreciated his honesty, but it didn’t seem to add up. How did he work in such a fancy place but also a significantly lower level place like yours.

“But you work at my job, no?” You brought the glass cup of wine to your lips. You heard Sanji chuckle.

“Consider that charity work, I suppose” He swirled his cup of wine in his hand. “I saw you needed a replacement and I guess I got bored”

You stared at him with a puzzled look after your swig of wine. You intended on pinching yourself to see if you were dreaming any of this. You giggled, astonished.

“You’re joking”

“Of course not, sweetheart”

Sanji had a smug grin on his face. With that expression, there was no way he was lying now. It all began to make much more sense. This is where his income came from. You assumed he was a sous chef at this establishment as well.

“No wonder people know you, you’re a famous chef here!” You began to piece everything together.

“Smart girl” Sanji cooed. He took a quick swig of his beverage and placed it down.

“Although, it’s just a label. I’m just a boy at the end of the day” He sighed. Your smile began to slowly lower.

Maybe underneath all that egoism and flirtation, he was just a boy wanting to be loved in the right ways rather than the greedier ways. You saw right through it.

“I understand. People take things like that for granted…” You formed a more comforting smile with your lips.

Sanji was right. There was something different about you that he couldn’t shake. You understood his heart in a span of a few minutes. He felt more than touched by your smile and simple words. You truly were Heaven sent in Sanji’s eyes.

“I’m assuming your friend is our waiter” You giggled. Sanji grumbled.

“He’s absolutely not a friend. Not over my dead body” He sassily remarked, causing a louder giggle to escape your lips. It was music to his ears hearing it from you.

The moss headed waiter came to your table once again after a short while but this time, you knew what you want. You ordered your favorite meal that was, to your surprise, on the menu. You were ecstatic to see it there in cursive writing.

You noticed the slight angry tension between the waiter and the blonde but it was now more amusing to you than anything. You enjoyed their closeted sour relationship, but deep down you knew they had respect for each other.

The frequent swigs of wine got to your system and you felt guilty sending an urge to excuse yourself to the bathroom. As the movies and media portrayed it, people always used the bathroom as an excuse to leave your date stranding. You couldn’t hold it in though, so you pushed yourself out of the cushioned chair to excuse yourself.

“Excuse me” You spoke. Sanji smiled at you while you walked around to find the bathroom. Your absence alerted the moss-headed waiter.

“Who is she?” He blurted out. The mere presence of this man made Sanji’s loving aura die out in an instant.

“She’s just a girl from that second place I began working at” Sanji replied. Zoro had a smug grin on his face.

“And she’s standing you up right now?”

“She’s not standing me up, she’s using the bathroom you moron!” Sanji hissed. Zoro had his arms folded.

“You’re off the clock so technically I can report you for disrespecting customer service” Zoro remarked. Sanji was technically at a higher position than Zoro, but he was still defeated.

“If I weren’t on a date with a literal goddess, I’d burn you with this candle and turn you into barbecue” Sanji pointed at the small lit candle.

“Relax fancy brows” Zoro was used to Sanji’s fiery anger towards him at this point. “Though I think Id still look attractive to her even as barbecue”

“I should kick your ass right here and now!”

“I’d like to see you try, blondie”

“Why you little-“

You walked out the bathroom to see the two butting heads. Sanji paused at the sight of you and formed a lovesick smile on his face at the simple sight of you. Zoro looked tired and rolled his eyes.

“(F/N), dear” He sang. You giggled while approaching the table. Sanji repeated his gentleman action once again by pushing you into your chair. “Welcome back, mademoiselle”

His smooth, flirty personality completely replaced his hot heated one he gave the waiter. You pretended you hadn’t seen the whole show.

“Lousy lover boy” Zoro mumbled. Zoro immediately shut his lips once a foot slammed onto his own. He winced and was ready to punt the blonde straight into the ground, but feared about losing his job. At this point, losing his job was actually a bonus for the both of them.

You faintly heard Zoro curse under his breath while he wobbled away from the table. Their relationship was quite… interesting. It made you laugh, though, so you didn’t complain.

The night went smoothly, despite the small banter between Zoro and Sanji chopping between the night. You laughed and shared loving conversations with Sanji. He explained his experience here at Blue Baratie, the restaurant they dined in. You explained to him about your other relationships, like Ace. Sanji noticed a familiarity with the name Ace but chose not to intrude, simply because he couldn’t exactly pin point where it came from. His main focus was you and your enjoyment anyway.

You were stuffed. You couldn’t bare to lie, the food was incredible, more delicious than you could ever imagine. You finished your plate clean as well as Sanji. Despite the food being gone and in your stomachs, it didn’t stop you from still laughing and sharing blissful conversations.

“And I told em’ ‘Are you serious?’” You snickered at your own story to receive a laugh from Sanji. He was so intrigued by the story you told him.

“Personally, I don’t know what Id do in that situation” Sanji breathed, an amused smile on his face. He was happy as he slowly figured more and more about you and your witty personality.

“I never thought I’d have this much fun on a date before” You sighed. You had a relaxed smile on his face. You saw Sanji’s eyes glow at your words, completely taken back.

“Yeah, me neither…”

You both stared in each others eyes like nothing else mattered. The distinct chatter and clinking of utensils soon washed out to nothingness the further you traveled in Sanji’s eyes. You completely had him wrapped around your pretty finger.

You had his hand held comfortably on the white clothed table. Occasionally, Sanji would rub his thumb against your hand lovingly. It was a sign of affection, and ‘I’ve got you’.

Your romantic trance was soon interrupted by your infamous waiter who had an annoyed expression on his face. You two had been here straggling and conversing longer than you were supposed to.

“Room for dessert?” He was hoping you’d say no, but your sweet tooth said yes. You gleamed at Sanji with sparkling eyes.

“How about we share a treat? What do you say, sweetheart?” He asked with a charming smile. You nodded eagerly. He admired your enthusiasm, but also admired that you managed to annoy the mossy waiter.

The waiter choked back a groan.

“What would you like? We have chocolate fondue, crepes, gourmet cheesecake…”

You glazed the dessert column of sweet treats. Your eyes laid upon the one that looked the most tastiest, and Sanji noticed.

Sanji personally ordered the treat with a smug grin to Zoro, who desperately wanted to throw you two out to save him from the grossness you two spewed with your romance.

He nodded and turned on his heels to place in the request. You excitedly bounced in your chair, ready to share your last treat with your potential profound lover.

“Say, Sanji” You finally spoke. He tilted his head and hummed, awaiting your response.

“What’s with you and that waiter guy? Bad relationship?” You asked curiously. The playful animosity was humorous, but it only made you grow more curious.

“Mosshead?” He chuckled.

“His name is Zoro. We’ve been…” He cleared this throat, refusing to say the term ‘friend’. “We’ve known each other since highschool. He offered to help this restaurant when I started learning how to cook here” Sanji explained. As much as you loved his voice, it didn’t answer your question yet.

“As for our relationship, I won’t lie and say I don’t have respect for the guy. We are close” Sanji admitted, and it was true. Zoro and Sanji had a mutually strong, trustworthy friendship. They had each others backs, just not really showing it the right way.

“He’s just a pain in the ass sometimes…”

He heard you giggle, which he adored. He adored your cute, dorky giggle and laughs all throughout the know, slightly prideful that he was the one to make you feel as delighted as you did.

Soon enough, the plated treat was gently presented in the middle of your table. It looked absolutely delicious and well as elegant. The person that decorated and plated your dishes was patient and delicate. Before you could grab a spoon to take a bite you oh so longed for since you placed the order, Sanji quickly brought a spoonful to your lips.

“Oh, how sweet” You giggled before wrapping your lips around the spoon to get a mouthful of pure, delicate sweetness. You beamed as you chewed. Your expression was purely adorable to Sanji’s eyes.

The last few moments you shared at that fancy table was just the two of you sharing that delectable dessert. You ate most of it while Sanji snagged a bites here and there. Finally, the bill slid across the table. You eyeballed it with gaping eyes and mouth meanwhile Sanji eyed it with ease, like the total was complete pocket change.

“Cheaper than I thought…” He said under his breath. His remark completely baffled you. The total was about as much as your entire weekly paycheck, and this guy was going to expect it to be higher? This restaurant stacked his pockets.

He placed his metal debit card on the bill tray, waiting for the transaction to be over with. Zoro came back with the receipt and card in hand.

“Thank you so much for dining with us” He said with a smile. Instead of gently and professionally placing his card back on the table, he just tossed the card at his chest without looking.

“I swear I’m gonna-“ Sanji abruptly stood up from his cushioned chair after jolting from his card fumbling on his chest. Zoro had a smug grin, only to dart his eyes to you to remind Sanji that he’d make a complete fool out of himself if he didn’t stop right then and there. He cleared his throat.

“Out of my way” He grumbled, only Zoro hearing. He mouthed and mocked Sanji’s remark.

You batted your eyes innocently at the interaction, wondering if you were on a date with a sophisticated gentleman or an angry toddler. You giggled.

Sanji took you by the hand, to which it caused you to rise from your comfortable seating and into his arm. He strut out the restaurant, waving goodbye to his coworkers and colleagues.

The streets were just as busy as they were an hour ago when you waltzed inside. You wondered if this beautiful place ever slept. You felt Sanji snake his arm away from you and dig into his blazer. You watched him pull out a cigarette and flick on his lighter to ignite it. With an inhale and a soft exhale that puffed out smoke, he slithered his arm around your waist.

Sanji stood by you close as you waited for your valet to pull up with Sanji’s car. His arm had a first grip around your waist. He eyed down any man that was out to cat call you or undress you with their eyes. Seemed as if he was ready to drop kick anyone who dared to even think about it.

Finally, the familiar car that dropped you off here in the beginning pulled up. The valet tossed Sanji is car keys and he caught it with one hand, not even daring to struggle. Sanji escorted you to the passenger seat first, both opening and closing the door once you hid inside.

He turned on the engine of his car after sitting in his own seat and sped off down the road to make his way back to your own house. You admitted that you were bummed to go back so soon, thinking the night wasn’t long enough to share more sweet, romantic moments with the blonde lover boy. Sanji felt the same, but now you two were far from strangers.

He felt a strong thread that wrapped around your heart with his own, so he was determined to continue this strong flame you two ignited over dinner. I mean, Sanji couldn’t lie, he was already planning a second date. Something more down to Earth, though.

Sanji caught you catching a glimpse at him. You smiled at his attention and averted your eyes from his own to his slender, yet veiny, hand. The same hand that was flat on his thigh. The blonde read your mind like a psychic and chuckled. You soon felt a warm sensation grip your bare thigh. By his firm touch, you felt shockwaves in your system.

The hand that tenderly rested on your thigh and his side profile focusing on the road was too much. You just had to snag a picture. Once it was captured, you sent it to the first person you thought of.

(F/N) - 7:55 PM

[Attachment - 1 image]

date completed !:p

Ace - 7:55 PM

SANJI!?

To your utter shock, Ace replied in milliseconds. Ace was always known as taking absolutely ages to reply to a simple text. Better yet, how the hell did he know the name of your handsome man?

(F/N) - 7:56 PM

You know him??

Ace - 7:57 PM

duh???? he’s close with luffy

he’s quite the ladies man so congrats loser!

“Luffy?” You traced your eyes back and fourth over Ace’s text with a mumble. Your hum caught the drivers attention. He tilted his head towards you, but not quite taking his eyes off the road.

“You said something, my dear?” He cooed. You quickly shut off your phone and contemplated on asking him a question or two.

“Do you know a Luffy by any chance?”

Your question made Sanji pause and then exhale in laughter. He pulled his cigarette out of his lips and out the window as you two halted at a red light.

“He’s a handful but we’re close” He replied.

“Why?”

You were completely shocked. All along, what felt like your soulmate was under your nose all along. Once again, you knew Luffy but that was as far as it went. You didn’t know the little group he had with his own friends, simply because you kept closer to his brother and maybe even Sabo as well.

“What a small world” Is all you could say. Sanji hummed in confusion.

“My close friend, Ace” You began. “He’s Luffy’s brother and he found out I was on a date with you”

The familiarity came running back to Sanji after you mentioned his friends cowboy brother. Sanji nodded.

“Of course, you’re right” He chuckled.

“It is a small world”

You two exchanged small fits of laughter, it flooding into a conversation about odd experiences you had with the scruffy boy. Sanji’s experiences were more obscene than yours, but overall still funny.

You realized Sanji pulled up in the public driveway to your apartment. The scenery was quite different than normal. It was maybe cause of the fact you aren’t complaining about your job in this very parking lot as usual, it was replaced with love and desire for a certain chef.

Sanji sighed and relaxed in his drivers seat. He rolled his head, that was laid on the head rest, to you with a half smile. He was just as disappointed as you to see this night end so soon.

“Our last stop, mon amour” He sighed. You tried curving a smile but it was obvious you were bummed. Sanji kept his hand on your thigh the whole ride. You felt him caress the single area in comfort.

“We’ll have another date, if you’d like” He offered. You blushed. The sorrowful feeling was replaced with eagerness and excitement.

“I’d love to. Tonight was amazing” You smiled brightly. Sanji chuckled and pulled out his cigarette to place it on the ashtray that sat in his cup holder. You’d think that due to his massive addiction, the ashtray would be messy. But it wasn’t.

He stroked his fingers against your cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You stared deep in his eyes once more, completely lost within them quicker than you could comprehend. You noticed his face inch closer. This time, you didn’t hesitate to passionately connect your lips with his.

The simple kiss turned into you two synchronizing your lips roughly after a few short seconds. It was obvious that the two of you were holding back a few… urges. The hands that rested on your cheeks weren’t enough. You climbed onto Sanji’s lap, feeling him wrap the hook of your back with his toned arm. A grunt escaped his lips when he slid you closer.

Your lips never separated. The kiss was raising up your body temperature and raising up your arousal. Something poked between your thighs, a blatant single that Sanji felt the same way.

Your lipstick was smudged against Sanji’s. You left more red, pigmented marks along side his cheeks and down his neck. Once your lips and teeth connected to his neck, the pigment wasn’t from your lipstick this time. You made sure he went back home with a love bite or two. You heard Sanji hiss and exhale when you pleased the sweetest parts of his neck. Sanji slowly grabbed the fats of your ass that was sitting right onto him. The backseat never looked better.

His grip made a small mewl escape your own lips. Your hands gripped his white button down, causing the small window of his chest grow larger to see more of his toned body. Oh how desperate you were to rip each and every piece of cloth that laid on his handsome figure.

“Excited now, are we darling~” He soothed in your ear. You found yourself breathing on the crook of his neck when he used his occupied hands to slide you back and fourth over his groin. You felt the rock hard tent roughly graze against your cave. Had you really forgotten to wear shorts under your dress?

Sanji’s grip was strong yet passionate. His breathing grew hoarse and thirsty with each thrust. Your hot breath on his neck only made his brain run wild even more. Sanji’s hand made the hem of your dress rise. His curiosity washed over him.

“No shorts, darling?” He whispered in your ear. Your cheeks flared in embarrassment now that Sanji was looking at your laced bottom. All you could do was whimper.

Sanji gently slipped his long fingers inside your pretty underwear and trailed them upfront. You were already soaked and ready for him, but he wasn’t surprised. You could hear him faintly chuckle as he gently swipes a fighter against your entrance, leaving you to slightly quiver and hitch.

He moved his finger tip in circular motion against your bud. All you could helplessly do is bite his neck to muffle out your moans. Sanji let out a small mewl himself once your seek sank in his neck.

His fingers didn’t stop, the more you made sweet noises the more he kept going, and going. The blonde couldn’t get enough of your sweet noises. You bucked your hips on his fingers, feeling a knot tie around your womb. His fingers caressed you with pure expertise.

He quickened his pace, causing your thighs to twitch. He noticed your moans getting more sloppier and inconsistent. You were a mess, all done by Sanji’s fingertips. He had a grin on his face through all of it, slight groans of sensations knowing he was the one to completely wreck your brain.

He stopped pleasuring your bud and sunk in two digits, feeling your velvet walls wrap around his fingers warmly. He bit his lip feeling you. He was about to break through his pants himself.

He curved and moved his fingers in the perfect way, almost immediately finding that sweet spot. Once he felt your teeth disconnect from his neck and yelp out a stronger moan, he gaped his mouth.

“Right there? Yeah?” He breathed in your ear. Sanji didn’t stop plunging his fingers in that spot where he got a reaction out of you. He felt you nod in the crook of his neck. Sanji couldn’t be more prouder of himself knowing he was making your night with just his hands.

“Sanji… Sa-haah…” You finally spoke his name. You received a sexy hum from him. He rolled his eyes.

“Say it again” He turned his head to face you. Upon not seeing your flustered face, Sanji snaked a hand behind your neck and gripped your hair. Sanji made sure to be gentle. He slowly pulled your head out of his neck to see you.

“C’mon, doll, say it again” He said with a grin, not slowing down his hands a bit. His fingertips kissed that same spot at an increasingly higher speed.

“S… Sanji…”

Your words were broken up with heavy breathing and moans. Sanji looked pleased, as well as ready to throw you in the back seat and please you with something else. His used his hand to connect his lips with yours, a heavy exhale of desire coming from Sanji.

Your body twitched, and your moans grew louder than before in Sanji’s mouth. He felt your walls close in around his fingers by the second. That knot was about to snap.

“Close, dear?” He smiled. You nod, whimpering left and right when you reached your climax. The pleasure was shooting through your body like a canon, and you grew desperate.

“C’mon, you can do it” He encouraged. The tone of his voice was smooth. “Yes, c’mon…”

He had his mouth slightly opened as he watched both you and your body getting plundered into by his mere fingers.

“San-ngnnh~ Sanji~!” You yelped. Your orgasm was strong and powerful. Sanji groaned in pleasure just by looking at you riding out your own orgasm.

After he saw your body relax on his own, he pulled out his fingers slowly. He brought them up to his face and separated his index and pointed. Your juices left a thick string in between his digits, and he chuckled.

“How was that, mon amour?” He cooed. You laid on his chest, completely burnt out. You had a meek smile on your face.

“Amazing…” You breathed out. You heard Sanji lick off your juices clean off his fingers. He hummed.

Soon after, he caressed your back for a few moments. He noticed how limp and weak your body was and chuckled.

“What floor is your place?” He asked quietly. You had a small grumble in your throat.

“Second…”

With that, Sanji pulled out the keys of his expensive car and shoved them into his pocket. He had a strong arm wrapped around your lower back for support and he carried you out the car.

You kept your balance on the ground but your thighs were shaking like a leaf, as if you just came through a blizzard bare naked. Sanji didn’t let you walk, though. You made a small sound once you felt him swept you off your feet and into his hands.

Upon arriving in your actual apartment room, he went straight into your bedroom. Sanji sat you on the edge of your bed. You slouched and palmed your eyes tiredly. That orgasm took everything out of you. You watched Sanji scramble in your drawers to eventually pull out a loose shirt and shorts.

“Put these on, my love” He placed them beside you, as well as a peck on his cheek. You managed to smile at his kindness.

“I’ll prepare some chocolate for you while you’re at it” A thumb brushed against your cheek before you saw the blonde exit your room, gently shutting the door of your room.

The sexual intimacy was a broken record in your brain, but you loved it. It was probably one of the best, if not the best, orgasms you’ve ever experienced. You sluggishly tore off your fancy dress and slipped on the significantly less fancier clothes.

You didn’t bother picking up your heels or shoes. Your exhaustion completely took over, but not enough for you to ignore the presence of the handsome blonde man in your kitchen. You quietly exited your dear room and saw the blondie completely focused on making hot chocolate from scratch.

You wrapped your slender, tired arms around his slim waist. You heard a chuckle come from him while he was in the middle of mincing a bar of chocolate.

“I see you’re a lot more comfortable now, sweetheart” He said smoothly. You nodded.

You gave Sanji one long, loving squeeze and separated yourself from him to sit at your marbled kitchen island, only to watch him lovingly prepare a mug of fresh hot chocolate.

“Unfortunately, you have no marshmallows” He sighed, pouring the milky beverage into a white mug.

“Bummer”

Sanji shook a can of whipped cream and you heard the loud sound echo throughout the whole area as we swirled the cream in your drink. Sanji sprinkled on flakes of the minced chocolate and served it to you with an elegant hand.

“How sweet of you, Vinsmoke” You giggled, snaking your hand into the handle of the mug. He leaned against the kitchen counter to puff his cigarette iconically.

“You deserve each drop of it” He smiled.

You giggled and licked a scoop of whipped cream. Despite that not being as homemade as the actual beverage, it was still delicious.

“If you’re all set, I’ll clean the kitchen and be on my way” Sanji sighed, bummed out that no matter what, he had to bring this blissful night to an end.

You hummed, scooping a finger full of whipped cream and suggestively wrapped both your tongue and fingers on it. You sucked it off, leaving a popping sound escape your lips.

“I don’t think the night is over just yet” You teasingly said. Sanji had his mouth slightly agape at your demeanor.

“Mon amour…” He breathed, forming a smug smile on his face.

“The dishes can wait…”

all characters rightfully belong to Eiichiro Oda

[rararatigan]

I know this is a dumb question but I have bought a fountain pen and am trying to learn better cursive. How do you get your lines different widths? It would really help if someone explained like I'm five. I have read a lot of handwritten early 19th century court documents recently and I love how early 19th c your writing looks! It's simply beautiful. Thank you!

Ahh, thank you very much! That’s so kind.

Your question isn’t stupid at all! Everyone has to start somewhere =]

There are a lot of variables when it comes to pens for calligraphy, but when you say you have a fountain pen, I’m assuming it’s a traditional fountain pen with a cartridge for ink inside of the pen. Usually those pens have a little less give in the tip, so you won’t get a broad variation in your writing strokes (the thick vs thin lines) that you’ll get with a calligraphy pen.

A calligraphy pen is what I use for writing my cards and basically this consists of a nib (the flexible tip of the pen with prongs known as “tines”) and the holder or body of the pen. Different nibs will have different widths, flex, or “springiness”, so you’ll get different effects depending on what you use. Fountain pens usually have ink in a cartridge inside of the body, whereas calligraphy pens need to be dipped in ink.

Generally how it works is that when you do a downstroke on a letter, you apply slightly more pressure, and the tines of the nib split apart and draw the ink in a wider line. On an upstroke, you apply lighter pressure, the tines stay together, and it makes a thinner line.

There are a lot of variables, but that’s the basic gist of it! There are a ton of fantastic tutorials online for calligraphy and I highly recommend looking into it if you’re interested! But if you want some practice, a fountain pen is a good start to just control your pressure, but you can get a similar effect of calligraphy by doing cursive with a ballpoint pen and practicing with varying your pressure between downstrokes and upstrokes. Just know you’ll be pushing a lot harder on your downstrokes with a ballpoint pen than you will with a calligraphy pen.

Hopefully this helps! I’d love to see what you make if you decide to share it!

[rilli-luci]

What does Pro/Shipper Mean?

I’m only typing this cause I had to explain to a friend why the label of pro/shipper is so controversial and I like to act on the benefit of the doubt that some people may not be informed so under the cut I’m gonna explain this and why there’s so 

I’m not really gonna debate the morality of it but I am going to just explain the general gist of the term and WHY a lot of people don’t like the word and I hope it helps some people when it comes to fandom labels.

Reblog if you want but please do not come to my inbox or IMs to debate this topic. This is an information post ONLY. Not a discussion one.

Warning before you read, this post will cover Problematic Ships with triggering topics. They are mentioned for the sake of information. But I don’t want to unintentionally trigger anyone.

Going to start with the fact that this word has changed meaning over time. When I first got into tumblr rp and heard this term, it meant a completely different thing than it does now. And I think this is important cause when words change meaning and people just may not know, it can lead to a lot of misunderstandings that could be avoided if people just y’know...communicated. But that’s besides the point.

Pro/shipper at some point USED to mean one who supports a specific ship or shipping in general.

I’m currently very much so still in my Owl House hyperfixation so I will be using ships from this fandom to better explain the point. So if you are a big fan of Goldric (Hunter x Edric) then you were considered a pro/shipper for that ship. The opposite of this would be an Anti-Shipper as you did not like this ship. There was nothing generally wrong with being pro or anti as long as the ship was not problematic. Most of the discourse came from Antis sorta flooding the tags of the ships either due to their pettiness or tumblr’s shitty tagging system.

HOWEVER that is not the case now. Roughly around the 2010s (I like to think it happened somewhere around 2012-2015) the word changed its meaning.

That’s because people who supported what are called Problematic Ships.

These are your ships (with examples) that ignore canon sexualities of one or both parties of a ship (such as Hunter x Amity), are in/cest (Such as Lilith x Eda),have inappropriate age differences (such as any ship regarding a minor and an adult), those that display abusive dynamics ( such as Lilith x Belos ), etc. Ships that generally will make the average fan feel uncomfortable.

Some people who highly enjoyed problematic ships started using the term Pro/Shipper as a way to either defend their ships or justify their reasons as to why they were okay.

At this point the meaning has changed.

Pro/shipper NOW means one who supports a ship or shipping deemed problematic and/or believes in the freedom to create and consume fanworks with such elements.

Now content with toxic or abusive dynamics is more of a gray area, they’ve sorta always existed even before fandom culture became what it is today and it of course isn’t just purely tied to ships (For example, Hunter and Belos have this dynamic but are HOPEFULLY not a ship). Its all dependent on if the person making the content genuinely ships it or is making content for some other purpose that’s far less problematic and its complicated and definitely a case by case basis. But for the previous problematic examples, well there’s really no reason to ship in/cest now is there? Its just pretty gross. 

So when a person says “I’m a pro/shipper” today while there is a good chance they’re very much so meaning the first definition, it may be automatically assumed by others that they mean they are the latter. And for those other people, they may not have the energy or time to invest in meeting this person and learning what they think a pro/shipper is and if they still stand by that label if they know the connotations it presents. Its generally safer to them to just call it a lost and not interact.

So if you read this and  you still think this label is for you, then this is the sort of risk you are taking by taking on this label. Does it suck? Maybe, depending on who you are. But like I said, this post is meant to inform people and I’ve done just that.

Words have power now and days, more than people know. Especially when it comes to labels.  And when words change meaning like this one did, then I feel its important that everyone gets on the same page.

[2bhankfan]

a swap au for madness combat i've had for a while, maybe would like to expand it too ^^ it's pretty long so look after the cut for all the character stuff (real nice tumblr automatically does all the formatting from me copy pasting a text file, never even knew it did that...)

Swap AU: AAHW and S.Q. Swap

Takes place after the Fall of Nexus, where previously everything was exactly the same (S.Q. working to look for the mandatus, Jeb caused fall of Nexus, etc etc. you get the gist) Personalities overall stay the same, changes will be noted

S.Q.

Conglomerate with the sole goal of taking over the Machine for sole power of the world. Employees are Fellows instead of Agents.

Leader: 2bdamned Vigilant and rarely-seen shadow leader of S.Q, workaholic. A bit too obsessed with the Machine and it's workings, and spends almost any time trying to either take more control over Nevada or the Machine. It's believed that he takes the bodies of his dead Fellows to use for experiments, but it's all rumors anyway…

Manager & Bodyguard: Hank J Wimbleton While his official role is the Leader of S.Q. he actually acts more as a spokesperson for 2bdamned (he's kind of shitty at it though), also does tasks on behalf of or directly for 2bdamned. Spends a lot of time with 2bdamned. Seems very loyal, but would switch sides at a moment's notice if S.Q. proved to hold him back even the slightest. However, it'll be difficult to sway him to your cause considering how well S.Q. is treating him…

Behavioral & Intelligence: Deimos One of the many division managers in S.Q. VERY good at his job as Intelligence division manager, high class hacker who can get information from anyone about anything. His charm and technological skill is usually key to wringing out information from others, but if that doesn't work he'll hand them off to Sanford for some "advanced methods." His Behavioral Discipline is extremely biased, as he'll shun anyone for anything he can confiscate… to take for his own personal use. No drugs, no smoking, no alcohol, no raunchy mags, no rock music, etc etc… Unless it's for him, of course. Often seen indulging in (usually multiple) of the banned items in front of the Fellows as well.

Training & Weapons: Sanford Known for his extremely detailed knowledge on weaponry and dangerous materials, Sanford is able to build and supply any sort of ammunition towards threats, or usually for his own personal training methods. Unfortunately, he's also known for his extreme cruelty towards his own Fellows. Warmup exercises are brutal, and the training itself goes much beyond torture. Sanford's kind demeanor only scares the others MORE as they'll be forced to do horrendous things under such a warm facade.

AAHW

Created to stop the elusive Hank J Wimbleton, has now become a shell of its former self trying to stop the entirety of S.Q.

Leader: Auditor Disgraced Employer, disowned by the other Employers after his irresponsibility and failure in his role. Was approached by Jeb & Sheriff looking for an organization to ally with, however was employed under complete control of the Auditor instead since the others had no other options. Very determined to find their place back at the top of Nevada's food chain, extremely sour and jealous of S.Q.

Manager: Sheriff Is what got Auditor so many willing recruits in the first place, Auditor doesn't like him very much but has to be thankful for his management and recruitment skills. On top of managing for AAHW, is also managing MERC and is why the AAHW has access to so many resources. Auditor has tried to take over MERC a few times, but the only reason he hasn't is because Sheriff has officially resigned the role over to the foremans to keep its independance from other organizations.

Bodyguard: Jebediah Christoff With nowhere left to go, he takes to the AAHW with Sheriff to hopefully find somewhere to stay while he concocts something to reinstate Nexus to keep the "Two Soda Cans" problem under control and create a successful Nevadean society. He has to keep it under wraps from the Auditor lest he uses it for nefarious reasons, but lets Sheriff in on it in hopes he can help. Bound to a contract with the Auditor, forced to work there until he's "unnecessary." Bodyguard for Sheriff and does lots of other dirty work.

???: Tricky Came alongside Jeb and Sheriff but… He didn't exactly take well to any of Auditor's conditions. Is kept at the AAHW on the basis that they're too dangerous to be left alone, and doesn't do anything the Auditor asks if it's not "fun." Wild card in the broadest sense possible, holds no loyalty to anyone.

[zmwrites]

Tag: Find the Vibe III

I was tagged by @oh-no-another-idea and given the phrase/vibe “god, I love you/this.” 

Rules: find an excerpt from your WIP that fits a vibe. There is a full set of rules but that’s the gist of it.

This is from Remnants, in honour of @ashen-crest:

Someone cleared their throat behind her. She twisted in her chair, ready to tell them off, but instead smiled brightly. “Damir!”

“It’s late. Wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, gaze roaming the table.

“As you can see, I’m in the middle of a very important meeting,” she replied. One of the children, the four year old, had fallen asleep with her head on the table. She pulled him a few paces away and dropped her voice. “That’s Evelina Babych. Those two are her kids, and the other three are unclaimed since the fire. They need somewhere to stay while they wait for Vasek to arrive from Brenik in the next few days. I thought they could sleep on the floor in our room, or we could sleep on the floor, or I could find some other solution, but I have to do something. I know I’m forcing you into helping as well and I’m sorry but it happened so suddenly and Evelina has done so much for me over the years and—”

“Hey,” he interjected softly, rubbing her thumb with his where their hands were still joined. “I get it. Same lengths I’d go to for Miran and Vanya.”

She nodded, relief flooding her system. “Exactly.”

“Could give them our room and live at the Academy,” he suggested.

“You hate that place,” Radka said with a frown. He’d told her how he loitered outside the gates for as long as possible before going in, how he’d always leave as soon as he was able, how he took every opportunity to be elsewhere. He would be stuck there for most of every day if they were to live there. 

“Yes, but she has five children under ten to care for. Needs a contained place to keep them.”

“You hate that place.”

“It’ll be tolerable if you’re there with me,” he said, squeezing her hand.

She blinked at him, mouth opening and closing soundlessly twice before she found her voice. “If we weren’t in public right now, I would be doing unspeakable things to you.”

He exhaled a laugh and closed his eyes, trying and failing to stifle a smile.

“If you’re only offering to be nice and don’t mean it, now is the time to tell me.”

“Radka. Offer her the room,” Damir said, looking at the table surrounded by children again. “She needs it more than we do.”

She pulled his face down and gave him a quick kiss, hopefully quick enough that no one had noticed. “Unspeakable things, Damir.”

“I’ll go pack,” he replied, fully smiling even as he released her hand

“You’re my favourite person.” It came out more earnestly than she’d intended.

He paused, taking a breath as though he was going to speak, but instead shook his head and continued towards the elevators.

I love this scene so I thought you all might appreciate it as well.

I tag @memento-morri-writes, @sleepyowlwrites, @zoya-writes, and anyone else who wants to play! Your vibe/phrase “I’m so glad to see you.” As always, no pressure!

[nkn0va]

You know what? You've been getting a lot of uh... interesting ask lately,so let me give you something more wholesome. Can I just have a nice piece of your writing involving Aigis(P3) and Noel(Blazblue) being friends or something? Everyone wants them to battle to the death,yet no one wants to imagine them just hanging out as these created weapons that grow into their own people and soon develop their own heart honestly. I believe you're skills can definitely handle this challenge,my man.

I'm seriously flattered you think so, chief. Kinda hard to be confident in your writing skills when you have an older friend who's literally a professional published author but it's nice to know someone thinks mine is at least worth a damn. I'll try my best.

Post-writing note: This is a long ass post lmao, I really enjoyed doing this ask

-Some really weird shit needs to happen for these two to cross worlds and meet, at least assuming you don't wanna take the lazy way out and just say bbtag happened.

-Something alone the lines of Aigis being sent to investigate an anomaly in the TV world. Said anomaly happens to be a distortion in it made by Phenomenon Intervention and warps her somewhere she's never seen before.

-She finds herself in a forest...somewhere. The biggest problem right now is that there's some sort of airborne material all around her that immediately sets off alarm bells in her head from how radioactive it's making the place, however looking over the horizon she sees some buildings set around a mountain in the distance. Hopefully there she can get some answers as to what's going on.

-She flies her way over to the city, which she quickly finds out is nowhere in her database, she's never seen anything like this before. After some exploring she's confronted by what looks like nothing short of a demon, several times her size, weirdly enough with cybernetic augments.

-Aigis prepares herself for a fight, yet much to her surprise the demon explains calmly that he's not here to fight, but he wants her to come with him to meet someone. Aigis, not seeing anything else to do, agrees to follow him after thinking about it. Maybe she can get some answers.

-It's here that she's introduced to the rebel group of Kagura, Kokonoe, and their suboordinates. It's a long talk but everyone gets the gist of the situation. Aigis is from another world that used another world to get here, the people who found Aigis are attempting to overthrow a corrupt government in this world called the NOL. Aigis agrees to lend her power to their cause as long as they help her find a way home.

-She soon meets someone whose, according to Kokonoe, a defective Lieutenant from this "NOL" organization. She's curious about how and why she left the NOL after supposedly being so loyal to them and tries to pick at her brain about it.

-This Lieutenant, Noel, turns out to be...way more similar to Aigis than she thought. They were both made as weapons to hunt and eliminate something very specific, and much like Aigis did, Noel's currently having doubts on whether she's "real" or not.

-Aigis knows about what that feels like better than anyone, and the two establish a rather fast friendship. She shares stories with Noel about her world, gladly telling her about her time with her friends in S.E.E.S and how they helped her come to terms with her humanity, as shown physically made manifest in her Persona, though the whole Persona business is a story for another time.

-She really helps Noel out a lot in this department. Noel's much more quickly able to accept that she's real. As Ragna says, as long as she sees herself as real, then she is real.

-Aigis is more than ready to support Noel in her own endeavors however she can, particularly in saving Tsubaki from the Mind Eater curse and learning how to control the power of the Eye. She's also the first to jump to her defense when Jin decides to act like a bastard and talk down to her like trash. She is more than ready to throw hands right then and there for Noel.

-Noel herself in all honesty doesn't really feel like she deserves such a good friend. She didn't expect a full on android to be so good to her, but that doesn't mean she isn't ready to return the favor, far from it. While she can't cook for Aigis since she can't nor needs to eat (Thank God), she's always on guard when Kokonoe is around, learning to put her foot down in case the mad scientist gets any funny ideas when it comes to upgrading or tinkering with Aigis.

-Meeting Noel's other friends is quite the interesting experience. Makoto doesn't really understand what the hell Aigis is but still finds her pretty freaking cool regardless. Meeting Tsubaki when she's finally free of the Mind Eater is...awkward. The two had traded blows when Aigis had been sent out by Kokonoe to do some scouting and Tsubaki had attacked her after deducing that she was up to something. They finally have a chance to start off on the right foot and Tsubaki thanks her for taking good care of Noel in her absence.

-When they eventually find a way to get Aigis back to her world, it's a tearful goodbye, at least on Noel's part. The two reassure to see each other again someday, Noel using her power to keep the portal to the TV world open so that Aigis can come back through it and see her again someday.

[yoodokjas]

hihi!!

i noticed that i got quite a few followers recently so im not gonna question what made you guys follow me but just to clear up misunderstandings that might rise in the future:

i am currently very hyperfixated on orv. i dream orv. i wake up with orv. i drive to work thinking about orv. you get the gist. the characters and the plot and the everything within that story has rewritten something in my brain and here i am now, in a chokehold

i also tend to post about my other interests (currently hsr and somewhat a rekindled bsd) maybe once or twice a week.

with that said, i am also a very ship oriented fan. thats how i operate, so to speak. i love kimcom because found family didn't exist before them. i love yoohankim for being so cosmically linked and deserving of happiness. but joongdok is the only pair i ship both romantically and platonically so as far as this goes expect that this ship will take center stage 7/10 times (maybe more, maybe less. depends on my mood). so please keep that in mind

if you've read up to here and decide to stay then welcome to my blog. hopefully we'll get more opportunities to interact and be friends somewhere down the line 😊

[calqlate]

analysing the voices of the tot mls

warning(s): includes spoilers from/references to artem's 'atmospherics' ssr, vyn's 'a star in the night' ssr, vyn's origins, luke's personal story chapter 2, marius' 2021 halloween mr

view m.list!

— [note: i wrote this during the rrg2 event so this explains my a/n following this note] i'm a sucker for good voices so here's me expanding on my thoughts on the tot mls' voices (especially since i had to change artem's language setting from japanese (due to the current covid situation in japan, some of his lines from the rrg2 event are not recorded in time. in addition, his va [suwabe junichi] was confirmed to have gotten covid) to korean) and man, hearing 당신 instead of 君(は) is really quite a change :")

— artem wing

simplified chinese: tbh my personal favourite out of his 4 voices HAHAHAH also pls idk why i keep thinking of that one scene he sang chinese opera music HAHAHAHAH. the register is somewhere in the middle which was just right (perfectly balanced, as it should be). sounds a bit calm when he argues with mc in 'atmospherics' (like DUDE JUST GET MAD it sounds like i'm listening to an android omg) but he got a little condescending at the end so he still passes the vibe check!

traditional chinese: a little bit deeper than the scn dub but it's still pretty good nonetheless! very comforting, 10/10 would want to hear this kind of voice to cheer me up on a bad day.

japanese: someone said his japanese dub sounds like an old man and i cannot unhear it ever since 😭 whoever spoiled artem's japanese dub for me... i hope you won't draw an ssr anytime soon. n e ways yes i feel like the japanese dub is well-suited for the "superior at work" setting and also ticks the checkbox of "shy virgin at relationships falls in love". also has a very comforting vibe! definitely sounded annoyed(?) and mad when he argued with mc in 'atmospherics' and his va did a good job!

korean: his korean dub gives me highkey polite sunbae vibes (and i wonder why...) and the very shy but still concerned guy who would give the fl his jacket because it's too cold (100% gentleman vibes tbh). ALSO gives me borderline jumin vibes???? maybe it's just me HAHAHAHA. sounds a little too calm when he argues with mc in 'atmospherics' and kinda embodies 'the calm before the storm' vibe (but the thing is: the storm never comes).

— vyn richter

simplified chinese: the gentleman element in his character shines the best in his scn dub!! nails the whole royalty vibe very well imo! also very asmr-able, and would be the best morning voice to wake up to omg. it's also comforting in a way that how a dad would walk his child through what the kid's done wrong and why it's wrong, and explain why the kid should apologise first.

traditional chinese: a little nasal and higher pitched than expected, which in my book doesn't tally with his overall persona, so his tcn dub is not really a favourite of mine. his va still did a good job though!

japanese: whoever casted his japanese va... you're doing god's work. very well paired and i approve 👍 his japanese dub is also comforting but in a different way from artem's (i have zero idea how to explain this properly and hopefully you get the gist of it AAA) and suits the whole psychiatrist vibe.

korean: it's a little deeper than i'd expected and if you could combine voices, he sounds like jumin and zen put together. very calming and would oddly make for a good kidnapper voice (HEAR ME OUT FIRST: yk how in kidnapping scenes, the victim is blindfolded and the kidnapper is talking really calmly about the possible things he could do to the victim? YEAH THAT) and also gives me boyfriend vibes (idk it's especially so in his 'a star in the night' ssr).

— luke pearce

simplified chinese: v cheerful and matches his sunny disposition very well! also a very asmr-able voice HAHAHAHA (flashback to the sotn pv). angry luke in scn sounds so exasperated LMAO his vibe is like "i've been gone for 8 years and i can't believe you don't tell me things that i've missed during those years"

traditional chinese: has that bright undertone like his scn dub. angry luke in tcn sounds very worried which was fitting for the context of his personal story ig???

japanese: he exudes this unexplainable confidence in the japanese dub! also i am scared of angry luke in japanese the most. i wld most likely start yelling back at japanese dub luke tbh, even if he yells tatakae at me. angry japanese luke is the most intimidating out of the other dubs, would not recommend to piss off.

korean: his korean dub gives me soft boy vibes?? yk how some male leads in krdramas speak very gently to a girl they like? yeah that. also angry luke in korean sounds like the very concerned oppa you see in kdramas when the fl nearly gets into trouble but the ml manages to save her.

— marius von hagen

simplified chinese: SOMEONE CALL THE HORNY DEPARTMENT BC HIS SCN DUB MAKES ME WANNA DRENCH MYSELF IN A BATHTUB OF HOLY WATER (especially his 2021 halloween mr HOLY SHIT i swear his scn dub va knows what he's doing). very sexc for no reason (other than quenching the insatiable horny jiejie thirst of the marius stans) and also has those childish and confident elements you'd expect from reading his dialogue.

traditional chinese: similar to scn but it's higher pitched. still pretty good, no complaints here!

japanese: since i'm a japanese dub user, i'm very used to hearing the japanese dub, but i think it fits his character very well! his va nailed the childishness and confidence you'd expect from reading his dialogues.

korean: he gives me yoosung vibes in the korean dub and idk why???? he sounds like the very respectful dongsaeng who would listen to you and also remind you he's always got your back??? the childishness element is not very strong in his korean dub which kinda tones down his whole persona imo

[mmx-code-crimpphire]

Headcanon - About Marino's Path in the AU

DOESN'T GO INTO DETAIL FAIR WARNING!!

I'm so sorry I haven't posted in the last month!! I haven't felt okay with writing lately especially with being busy during the holidays, starting with Halloween season. Yes I consider Halloween as part of the holidays so I get pretty busy starting then, hence that lol

ANYWAY- hopefully I'll get back into the swing of things, esp after the weekly streams for halloween are over. There will be weekly streams in december but only the first three weeks cuz christmas is more busy with not just me, but everyone else too so- BUT ANYWAY

hope you enjoy this short lil headcanon- just to make up for missing a lot, there will be more world building ones in the works- stay tuned haha

ABout Marino, I had no idea where I was gonna go with her and unfortunately, I wasn’t really vibing with her all too much, and I don’t muse her as much as I wanted.

So, her role will consist of some spoilers, just a fair warning before I get into a brief gist of it. But basically, it’ll be short, especially being not so keen on writing lately- but I will get back into it hopefully and I have posted something again-

NEW CHAPTER ON AO3

In a nutshell, after the Giga City incident, she would join the Spider Unit and fight the good fight with the Maverick Hunters. Though, after a while in the story (don’t know when but somewhere a few arcs later), she’ll decide she wants to fly solo again, and wants to still do good things. She’ll still be a thief but be like Robin Hood kinda thief instead of being your run of the mill average thief lmao

Idk I just thought it would be nice to her character, and she’ll come back every once in a while, so there we go~.

[uselessidiotsquad]

Return of the Ruby!

Hey folks! It’s been a while. I’ve not been cold turkey off of Tumblr as I had hoped just because I still had some messages I wanted to answer and things like that. Having a bit of time off has really helped me and will hopefully let me have a stronger mindset going forward. However, there’s gonna be some changes to my blog and other details that I wanted to share.

The main one is I'm not going to be sharing my established writing any longer. And then the second one is come the start of 2023, I will be removing my established works from Ao3 and here.

I will still be doing character asks, short writing prompts, general engagement, and things of that nature! And that's the gist of it. There will be a detailed explanation under the cut for anyone interested.

Glad to be back folks! Looking forward to engaging with others, catching up on content I missed, and seeing what all is new around here.

Writing used to be my escape and my passion, but somewhere along the way it got tarnished. It was causing me to be really unhappy and making me feel like crap. And I needed a little time away to figure out why, but I’ve discovered it now.

I used to write because I was excited about my stories and happy enough with them that I wanted to share. But it morphed along the way. It was only here at the end of The Star and then evaluating my feelings on Affairs of the Heart that I realized it. I wasn't writing because it was making me happy - I was writing because I wanted to be told how good I was and how much people liked my writing, and by extension, me.

Now there's nothing wrong with wanting validation, it's perfectly human. However, there is something wrong with having external validation be the only means for you to be able to create and your only motivation. And in turn, when you feel like that is missing to be upset and feel unable to create. It isn't fair for me to expect that of anyone and it also isn't fair to me.

If you've talked with me at all about writing, you'll know that even my heaviest content comes from my personal experiences, which have been extrapolated on/morphed into what I need them to be for the story. The contexts and situations all change but the seed of the issues come from me. Digging up and dredging old baggage has a time and a place, but doing it with the sole intent of getting praise is not one of them. That's the boat I found myself in and really need some time and space to sit with that.

So! There you have it. I am still writing behind the scenes to conclude my kiddos stories in a way I feel they deserve. But it will be kept close to home again. I am still going to be rambling and yelling about my OC's - asking people about theirs - and being involved. I thought about just not posting new stuff and leaving it at that but I found I was still checking for interaction on my main pieces and feeding the cycle. So I've decided to clean the slate and just engage with people here outside of my writing context.

Thanks for reading! Glad to get back into the swing of this again.