#milk x piccolo

[sacachorch0vo]

¿Que vale más? yo humilde y tú orgullosa

¿O vale más tu débil hermosura?

Piensa que en el fondo de la fosa

Llevaremos la misma vestidura

Dibujito simple porque estoy oxidada

[oro-junestar]

more ship brainrot + piccolo plush

[fanaticsnail]

Your Flirty Chef

(Image Source)

Masterlist Here.

Word Count: 4,267

Synopsis: Sanji has been working hard lately, your flirty chef no longer as present as you’d like him to be. You both have some unspoken flirtation between you, hopefully something to shatter by molding him beneath the touch of your hands. 

Themes: Sanji x reader, mutual pining, idiots in love, flirtation, cooking, kissing, touching, massage, moaning, Sanji is a whimpering mess, suggestive themes, Baratie.

Notes: This was a gift created for the lovely @vespidphoenix who adores my 'Bar Shift' series. We're back home at Baratie! I hope you enjoy!

Tag List: @sordidmusings @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry

The light danced from the open bay windows across the circular polished floorboards, the wax allowing for a wonderful grip beneath your black, closed toe work-shoes. The handles of the porcelain tray began to heat beneath your palms and fingertips, the foamed milk and cream jiggling with each careful footstep you placed on the ground. 

You noticed first the depiction of the business of the kitchen staff through the circular windows attached to the doors, the smoke and flames rising to char the dish within the pans. You caught the eyeroll of your favorite blonde coworker as he shook his head, refusing to take direction from your boss and head chef of Baratie. 

“Alright boys, coffee time. Take a break!” you called after making your way through the swinging double doors to the kitchen. Immediately, pre-service was paused as a pile of hardened ex-pirates enthusiastically made their way to the pass. 

Echoes of praise rang from the kitchen upon your utterances, all occurring simultaneously as grabbing hands eagerly pried the dishes within your tray as you placed it down.

“Truly a lifesaver, Doll,” Carne praised, claiming his piccolo-latte from the tray and raising it to his lips in one quick swig.

“Oh, my sweetheart. Thank you, Love,” Patty shot you a winning smile, raising his extra strong flat-white from the tray and scuttling back over to his patisserie station. 

“Something there for me, Honey?” Zeff asked, the click and scrape of his pegleg and boot heel knocking against the floor prompted you to gather his long-black coffee and hand it off to him personally with a small bow.

“Of course, Chef,” you smiled at him, handing it over and turning back to the tray to witness the depletion of the amassment of coffees you’d prepared; only two now remaining. Sanji was in the middle of temperature controlling whisked egg whites and scorching sugar, unable to halt his whipping to claim his regular hit of caffeine from you.

“Just leave it on the table, Dove. I’ll be over in a second, okay?” Sanji’s brows were furrowed in concentration, the stainless steel bowl held firmly in his left hand and cradled against his chest. Soft peaks of white, fluffy meringue began to form within the bowl, his right hand continuing to beat in absolute concentration in a rotational way. 

“You want to take it outside when you're done, Ji? Have smoko?” you asked him, removing the two mugs and placing it on the tray. Sanji scoffed back a small chuckle, flicking his hair away from his eyes as he continued whisking. 

“Please, and thank you. I’ll be out in about a minute thirty? Just gotta start on the macaroons, then I’m on my quarter,” He broke his concentration on the bowl below him, flicking his cool-gray eyes over to you and watching as you began wiping down the tray, and claiming the emptied cups within to return to the bar. 

As you left the kitchen, Sanji continued to watch your departure through his peripherals while meeting optimum temperature for the egg whites. He paddled the mixture with a silicone spatula into a plastic piping bag and rotated the end to hold the pressure in place, leaving it neatly to the side of his workstation to complete forming the macaroons after his break.

“On your quarter, Little Eggplant?” Zeff asked, brow raising as he took a sip from his strong coffee. Eyeing his apprentice suspiciously, he looked him over as Sanji removed his apron and neckerchief to relax on his break. 

“Oui, chef,” he smirked, hanging his apron on his designated hook and halting once more at the door, “that alright with you, old man?” 

“Fine by me, boy. Just-,” Zeff had an almost sly twinkle in his eye, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, “-Just be kind to our bartender, alright?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m always kind,” Sanji retorted, taken aback with his lip curling into a small snarl. A small echo of teetered laughter and snickers reverberated within the walls of the kitchen amongst the clanging of pots and pans. 

“You know what I mean, lad,” Zeff grunted, placing his empty coffee cup on the sink beside Carne who had begun washing the crockery, “Off you pop. When you get back, we’re doing Before Service. Start gettin’ it ready, lads! Family Meal in a quarter.”

“Oui Chef!” Echoed in the kitchen, each chef springing to their station to begin getting the elements of their dishes together to present to each other before the rush of the dining service. 

Sanji huffed a small sigh, exiting the kitchen and walking over to the fishmouth of the bar where you were waiting for him. Sanji had a small circle of thoughts swirling within his mind, echoing and reverberating the words Zeff had commanded of him. ‘Be kind’? What does ‘be kind’ even mean? Was he not kind? Had he not been kind to you in your interactions prior? 

There was never a doubt in Sanji’s mind that he adored you. His affections were showcased in how he regularly sought you out on advice when conflicting with your boss and his mentor, Zeff. You were the one he came to when he had a rush of inspiration in the kitchen, spoon feeding you samples of his amazing cuisine for your constructive criticism or your unwithheld praise. 

Just a simple hum and a nod of your head in response to his food had his heart swelling, but when you closed your eyes and a moan was siphoned from your breath had his pupils darkening, and thoughts of lustful interactions with you plagued him. He would lie awake at night thinking about how your lips wrapped around the spoon he presented you, your eyelashes fluttering shut and a small gasp fled from your lips as you reopened them in glee. 

And that is when it hit him. As he watched the sun dance on your skin, your fingertips casually dancing along the ropes beneath the hard surface of the bar; he realized what Zeff meant by his suggestion. 

Sanji was in love with you. 

He was so desperately in love with you, he would do anything to see you smile, to hear your laugh, or to collect one of those hummed moans you’d save only for him when sampling his dishes. He was mad for you, so much so that he charged right through the feeling itself and bypassed all of the warning signs screaming at him to not fall in love with his coworker. 

He halted his steps, the spell shattering within him as he came to terms with the feeling swelling within his chest. Sanji was a perpetual flirt, and you would reciprocate his advances in a way that had you both giggling and teetering like idiots. Your natural rapport with one another, the way you bounced off each other on the pass when you worked floor shift, or when you’d fetch him coffees and trial new designs within the foam just for him. The way he would present a meal he had created for Family Meal for everyone, but alter yours in a way that showed how much he truly adored you with its careful assembly. 

Sanji was in love with you. 

Looking over your shoulder, your body remaining presented to the water and the docks, you noticed Sanji staggering in the shadows of the fishmouth bar with his footsteps halting. You furrowed your brows, turning completely around and arching your back against the railing of the external bar surrounding the perimeter of the side-bar. 

“That you, Ji? Here for your quarter and a smoke?” you asked him, a warm smile pulling at your mouth to welcome him into the area. You thought you heard Sanji cough, a choked sound within the shadows indicating his presence. Your furrow began to descend into a frown while cocking your head to the side, “Coffee’s getting cold, Sweetheart. Come over here and keep me company.” 

You were unsure how more obvious you could be regarding your affections for the blonde suis-chef of Baratie. You were a flirt by nature, a job you were hired and paid to complete to build a successful interaction with your clientele. But Sanji. Sanji you got to flirt with for free. 

Flirting with Sanji was a competitive sport, and one you championed as the captain of the team and the cheer squad. 

It started with a game of chicken; food related innuendos and outrageously crass flirtations offered to fluster one another for entertainment, while completing a particularly grueling shift. It had you both laughing and in high spirits regardless of how little the guests respected you or physically fought with one another during the shift. You adored spending time together, building rapport and learning from one another through your flirtatious nature.

Your favorite pastime was watching Sanji work. The way he rolled his sleeves up slowly to pin by his elbows, the way his forearms stretched and flexed as he julienned vegetables, the concentrated expression of his eyes as he tweezed a piece of gold leaf atop a caramel fudge, with a careful scoop of vanilla ice cream melting on the rim.

And then it hit you. The arrow of the winged cupid struck your heart with the pierce of iron as he offered you the first spoonful of a dish he had prepared, and meticulously cared for, specifically for you. Apprehensively wrapping your lips around the spoon and flicking your tongue over the curved edge, you couldn’t help but to moan at both the flavor presented to you, and the expression of complete devotion and the eagerness to please you written all over his face. 

You were in love with Sanji.

You couldn’t help the way you felt for him, always aiming to task him with something simple: “Ji, be a sweetheart and hand me that steel jug, please?” to something a little more complex: “Sanji, would you cook that dish for me for Family Meal? The one with the brie and the rillette de canard? I adore that one.” He was a puppy, following your direction and orders with glee, and you were absolutely smitten with him. 

Sanji danced his body into the light of the bar, sheepishly not meeting your gaze as he fished out his tobacco pouch from within his trouser pocket. He opened the bag, noticing a small quake in his fingers at the knowledge that now plagued him. What was he meant to do now? Act like he didn’t worship the ground you walked on? 

“Sweetheart, why don’t you give that to me and you take a sip of your coffee? I’ll roll you one,” you asked him, reaching your hand over and claiming his right wrist beneath your hand, “You must be tired after all that hand-whisking. You just sit back and enjoy your quarter. I’m on my halfa, and you deserve more time off your feet before we get absolutely railed by the service shift.”

At the term ‘absolutely railed’, Sanji’s mind was racing beyond its capacity. He couldn’t find an appropriate word in his mind to relay onto you in return, simply nodding in confirmation as he handed over his tobacco pouch before standing beside you and watching the ocean dance against the hull of the floating restaurant. 

As the sun hit his golden hair, dancing along the glow of his tired and overworked features, you couldn’t help but look at him in awe. The way his eyes closed with his smile as he took the first look at the design you had created for him with the foam, before pressing it to his lips and sipping at it. 

You were in love with Sanji.

Setting to work on rolling the cigarette with the wafer thin paper and setting the filter within the side, you placed some of the brown, dried leaves into the fold and rolled it. From the corner of your eye, you watched Sanji’s eyes float down to your lips as you darted your tongue out to dampen the paper. You could’ve sworn you heard a catch in his breath, and a small strangled groan halted within his throat; but surely you were mistaken. 

You presented him with the cigarette, placing the filter end within his lips for him and wordlessly asking if you could ignite the tip with your lighter. Sanji’s eyes watched you carefully, nodding his head to give you confirmation to flick your flint and ignite the flame for him. Your eyes softened, cradling the flame as you elevated it to his lips and doused the end with its light to burn through the paper tip at the end. 

“You work too hard, Ji,” you commented, a flick of the corner of your lip in a small smirk captivated his gaze further, “It’s made you silent. C’mon now,” you placed the lighter back within your pant pocket, “Where’s that flirty chef I love so much?” Sanji smiled, inhaling the nicotine-riddled smoke as he extended his lungs to capacity.

“I dunno, Dove,” He began on his exhale, eyes closed and head lulling as he savored the feeling, “Your flirty chef might need some convincing to come out and play. I have been pushing myself a bit more today, and I’m beginning to feel it in my bones.” You half-smiled at him, watching as he removed the cigarette and threw back the remainder of his coffee in his mouth and swigging it with one fell gulp.

“Oh, you poor dear,” you pouted, raising your hand up and pressing it gently on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze, “What can I do to bring him back?” Sanji groaned at the feeling of contact on his aching muscles, unsure of what came over him to elicit such a wanton sound. Your eyes widened, watching as his face began to contort as he hung his head low, relishing in the contact. 

“Let me take some of the weight off?” you suggested, bringing up your other hand to cup his shoulders, maneuvering your body behind him and firmly rotating your thumbs against the meat of his shoulders, “Maybe then my flirty chef will come out to play.” More of those beautiful groans escaped his lips as he succumbed to the ministrations of your fingers, molding and bending his hardened flesh within your hands. 

Sanji’s sweet cries of bliss were addictive, more addictive to you than any meal he had presented to you in the months you had worked closely together. The way he cried out in bliss as you found a particularly tender point in the center of his shoulder blade had you gasp out breathily in response. He was a slave to your touch, leaning in as a stray cat would to an affectionate caress. 

His cigarette fell from his lips to litter the ground by his shoes, the light extinguishing upon impact and rolling beneath the deck chairs surrounding you. He curved and arched his back into your touch, moaning and crying out as quietly as he could muster, with his mouth agape and a small amount of saliva collecting at the corners of his rapidly drying lips. Sanji’s body was responding a little too well to the simple touch of your hands on his shoulders and back. 

“Y-You’re so good-... mmff-... at this. W-Where did you-... oh-h merde-... where did you learn it?” He asked, lulling his head back and inadvertently rested the back of his head against your shoulder while holding onto the railing firmly in his grasp. You giggled, moving your hands beneath his shoulders and coaxing him from the railing to one of the lounging chairs, secluded in the shade of the sails of the wide umbrellas. Although this area was a public space, the lounges were private enough to shield Sanji as he rapidly fell apart in your arms from prying eyes. 

“I just know how hard the muscles work to produce the food you do, Ji,” you shrugged, sitting down on the lounge chair and ushering him to sit between your legs with his back to you. Initially, Sanji desired to sit up, his back convexing in a perfect arch to experience more of your touch. But his body had other plans beneath your skilled hands. 

He immediately found a more relaxed version of his former position: his head lulling back into your right shoulder as his eyes fluttered shut, your hands now finding rest against his biceps and rotating them beneath your firm grip to work out the kinks. 

Sanji had no idea what had come over him. The sounds falling from his lips were desperate, his body pleading and crying for more of your touch as he fell apart from the simple strokes of your hands now trailing up to his chest. You couldn’t get enough, your hands responding faster than your mind could tell it not to in order to find places on his body to have the sweeter sounds of your name rolling off his tongue between gasps and groans.

“Y-You’re-... fuck Dove-... Th-This is really good,” his breathy gasp complimented you, ending with the small pull of a whine within his throat. You tried your hardest to stop the rising heat from flooding to your cheeks at his voice, opting to giggle to relieve some of the tension surfacing. 

“You’ve got maybe three minutes before you have to go back, Sanji,” you said, patting him politely on the chest to indicate you were done assaulting him with your affectionate caress. At the small pat, he groaned, chasing the weight of your palm atop his chest by arching his back and pleading with you to continue. 

“Just a bit more?” he whined, opening his eyes and lulling his head further into your shoulder to gaze up at you with wide eyes, “Your flirty chef will come back if you do it just a little bit longer, I’m certain.” He smiled with his lips in a tight line, eyes twinkling in hope up at you. You scrunched your nose up at him, your own eyes reflecting his playful twinkle back at him.

“Maybe after the rush?” You suggested with a shrug of your shoulders and another curt tap of his chest. He groaned, slouching down and melting into your torso with the drag of his head. You laughed at him as he continued slinking lower and finally settled his head against your thigh, feet brushing against the ground over the side of the lengthy deck chair you were sharing. 

“But that’s so far away,” he groaned, a raspy growl rumbling against his tone. He clapped his hand over his eyes, squeezing his palm and fingertips in the pinch of his eyes before having it fall away from his face and down to his side with a small gasp. 

“Makes the waiting all the sweeter,” you cooed down at him. At this, he immediately rose to a sitting position, turning within your lap and gazing at you. His irises were blown, the small tint of pink dusting his cheeks and his lips were slightly parted. There were a thousand unspoken words dancing behind his eyes. The mystery surrounding such a look had you hooked and leaning in to see if a closer proximity would grant you further insight. 

At the small lean of your body from the back of the deck chair, Sanji reached his palm up and cupped your cheek, his fingers lacing in your hair, as he guided your lips to be claimed beneath his. A small squeak exited your lips in shock at the gentleness of his touch, eyes wide and watching him as his brows furrowed. A small hum of his lips against yours informed you that he was as shocked about this as you were, but not shocked enough to end the kiss just yet.

He pried your lips apart with his own, tilting his head to nudge you with his chin. You hooked your arms around his neck, pulling him against yourself and reciprocated with enthusiasm; your tongue darting out to meet his own. He chuckled against your lips once he felt you relax into it, flicking his tongue against yours with a groan of appreciation. You nudged him away from you, breaking the meeting of his lips on yours and unhooked your arm from his neck.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you commented, raising your arms up and fixing his ruffled hair. His eyes widened, brows peaking at the center as his lips parted. Focusing on redressing him and straightening up his uniform had your gaze pulled from his, unable to read the absolute heartbreak written all over his face. 

Nodding in appreciation at the straightening of his chefs jacket, you finally drew your smiling eyes up to meet his; immediately having your grin fall from your face once meeting with the sorrowful expression painted atop his features. 

“Ji, are you okay? What’s wrong?” you asked, cupping his cheek and darting your gaze between his two gray orbs. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this?” he whispered quietly, tilting his head down and gazing up at you through his eyelashes. Your eyes widened, smiling lips now falling open with a small shake of your head. 

Scrunching your nose, you leant forward and pressed a chaste kiss against his lips which ended with as much haste as it began. You giggled as you felt him chase his lips forward to halt your retraction, but ultimately got away from his approach. 

“I meant, you’ve only got about a minute left of your quarter,” you restated, confirming your words while elevating your hand to his chin. You brushed your thumb over his lower lip, dancing over his kiss-swollen lip with your digit. “We shouldn’t be doing this while we have so little time available for us to do so.” 

“O-Oh,” Sanji stuttered, the blush once again rising to dance over the apples of his cheeks, tips of his ears and button of his nose. You had never seen such a pretty color gracing his features, your heart swooning at the chef as he attempted to stifle his rising blush. 

“Has my flirty chef come back yet?” You asked him with a sly smile, retracting your hand from his face only to be caught within his own. 

“Your flirty chef,” he whispered, eyes holding firm to your own as he elevated your knuckles below his lips and pressing a gentle kiss against your skin, “Is going to be flirting with you for the rest of this shift,” he pressed another kiss against the back of your hand, slightly further up than the last, “And hopefully all through Before Service, Family Meal, and Knock Offs,” he uttered between a flurry of pecks and grazes of his lips further up your arm. 

Now it was your turn for the hues of warmth to swell beneath your cheeks, ears and nose at his words; becoming flustered further by the animal poised behind his eyes, threatening to ravish you with the intensity depicted beneath. He chuckled as he began showering your cheek with a further flutter of his lips grazing your skin. He halted just before meeting your lips with his, choosing to tease you with a small brush of his own. 

“I’m going to cook you something,” he whispered, his breath dancing against your lips, “And you’re going to make those pretty sounds you do so well, hm?” He nodded, pouting his lips and widening his eyes with that innocent yet mischievous twinkle you have come to enjoy him wearing. You couldn’t help but nod in response, mesmerized by the enchantment held within his eyes.

“And then,” he ushered you against the beck of the chair, pressing his torso against yours and continuing to hold his lips an eyelash’s width away from your own, “I’m going show you how flirty your flirty chef can really be.” As you attempted to chase his lips to plant another kiss against his own, he quickly stood to his feet at the call of his name.

“Sanji!” Patty called, “Your macarons are portioned and ready for the oven. Take care of ‘em, would you?” Your breath caught in your throat, Sanji’s blush dissipating at the interruption and his face paling.

“Alright, I’ll be there Patty! Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” he shouted in return, frustration written over his expression. 

“C’mon kid, we all know the only knickers you’re keen on seeing are the bartender’s!” He shouted in return, turning and stomping down the hallway towards the kitchen, “Get to it, Chef Zeff’s waiting.” Your eyes widened at the thought, your smirk withholding a small scream of bashful laughter from parting from your lips as your face drew a further flaming heat to it. 

Sanji waited a brief moment, inhaling a deep breath through his nose before removing his finger from your lips, tracing it down your chin and tilting your face to meet his eyes. His gaze was doing its best to disguise the horror of having the secret he thought he’d been withholding from surfacing. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he quickly stuttered, turning and immediately walking back to the kitchen with haste, the steam almost tangibly falling pouring from his ears as he stampeded away. You were too shocked to laugh, but a small giggle fell regardless. 

You could not wait until the rush of service was completed to get to experience the flirtatious fluster of the blond chef after shift hours. Perhaps to even continue what began against the deck chairs in a more quiet and intimate setting.

[teenandbeyond]

Can you do Piccolo x Saiyan fem reader during the three years before he androids? She came to Earth with Vegeta and Nappa, and despite being on friendly terms with Bulma, Goku, Gohan, etc, Piccolo doesn’t seem to trust her. So she tries to find a way to make that happen.

Piccolo x Fem. Saiyan Reader

This is a cute idea!

Want more from me? MASTERlist 2!

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Trust Me (DBZ)

Warning: Fluff(?), Short bc I got sleepy (so I might do another part), Bro-Sis relationship w/Vegeta

You spend the day trying to figure out how to get Piccolo to like you...

✨✨✨✨✨

Vegeta raised a brow as you groan into a tree, “Why are you all mopey?”

“Piccolo doesn’t like me,” you whine, turning your head to reveal your pout.

“Why does that matter?”

You scoff, “You wouldn’t get it since no one likes you. Even Bulma barely does and you got her pregnant.”

“You’re disturbing my meditation time with your childish troubles,” he glares from his spot on the ground.

“You’re calling me childish? Who out of the both of us got mad about a shirt color?”

“Pink doesn’t suit me.”

You plop into the grass, “A prince at his finest, ‘Pink doesn’t suit me, blah, blah’.”

“Did you come here for any other reason but to annoy me?”

“Vegetaaaa,” you lay on his crossed calves, “What do I do? How do I figure out why he’s so mad at me?”

“Why do you care to begin with?”

You ignore his suspicious gaze, breaking eye contact, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Yet this Namekian not favoring you, has you, [Name]--the strongest Saiyan warrior right after me—pouting.”

“It’s just…I know we did some bad things, I know we hurt people, but they forgave us—Well, they forgave me, they’re still a little funny about you, which I don’t blame them—”

“What is your point? Please get to that, so you can leave.”

“Despite all that…he still doesn’t trust me…I don’t want him to be suspicious of me.”

“He probably still hasn’t gotten over you trying to kill him—”

“Nappa’s the one who's actually ever killed him! And that was forever ago!”

He gave you a long sigh, “Have you…tried asking him?”

“When the longest conversation I’ve had with him is, ‘I really wanna murder Frieza’ ‘You can’t just jump into battle like that without a plan’…There’s no asking anything.”

“In all our years of knowing each other, it is quite strange to see you like this.”

“Vegeta, we’ve known each other since birth, you’ve seen me mopey before.”

“Not other than your menstr—”

“We’re not talking about that!”

“Well, if it really concerns you that much, go do something about it instead of sulking.”

You pick at the cloth covering his knee, “But I’m scared…”

“Of the Namekian?”

“Yes.”

“You—You could crush him with a finger!”

“I know, that! I’m not scared of him literally…I…I’m scared he hates me…”

“It’s impossible for someone to hate you,” he assures.

You give him puppy eyes, “Does that include you?”

He tsks, looking away in embarrassment, “Of course, I don’t hate you, dumbass.”

You smile wide, “That’s the first time you’ve somewhat admitted to liking me.”

“Shut up!”

“Oh, no. Trust me, I’ll be milking this for a while.”

“I can’t with you.”

You sit up, “As much as I like hanging out with you, you aren’t much help, so I’ll figure it out myself.”

“Why did you expect me to help?”

“Because you’ve always helped me, even when you don’t really know how. It’s very brother-like of you.”

“Hm.”

“Thanks for listening anyway, V,” you kiss his cheek appreciatively before running off to find Piccolo.

“Why are you following me?”

You smile, approaching him from the sky, “I’m not, I’m going to visit Goku, too.”

He looks you over in suspicion.

“I don’t have anything on me.”

“I’m not taking your word for it.”

“Why would I lie?”

He crossed his arms, leaning down to you, “Because you’re untrustworthy.”

“You seriously don’t trust me?”

“You tried to kill me and my allies.”

“But your allies forgave me, you’re the only one who still seems bitter.”

“Tsk.”

You sighed, “Look, I usually don’t care if people like me…But for some reason, I care if you do. So, if trust is what I need. How can I get it?”

[fizzyxcustard]

Not So Nice

Read on AO3

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Fandom: seaQuest DSV

Summary: Just after the episode ‘And Everything Nice’ from season 2. Lucas has just had his heart broken when a woman named Sandra has pretended to want a relationship with him, only to then be ‘kidnapped’ by the people she is working with, and pull Lucas into a game she is part of, wanting to get access to seaQuest’s emergency codes. 

Lucas has been quiet and distant for three days after his brief relationship and heartbreak with Sandra. You try and cheer him up, but instead you wind up being the one who opens up old wounds, and feelings are shared.

Pairings: Lucas Wolenczak x fem!LieutenantReader (friendship mainly)

Warnings: Angst, sadness, break up, heartbreak, age difference, admission of feelings. 

Comments: If you wish to be added to my seaQuest tag list, which will be separate from all my other tags, let me know, and I will only tag you in these if you specifically request to be tagged. This is practically a dead fandom now, but I would still like to share my writings with you. If you would like to ask any questions, then by all means just ask! People are probably wondering why I’m still continuing this fic when it gets so little feedback, but it’s purely because I enjoy writing it. It’d a pleasure to be reminiscing in old times.

This has no link really to Fear and Loathing, only that the characters are the same. 

Lucas had been quiet and distant for the last three days, only answering when was absolutely necessary. It was only natural that he would react in such a way, but it hurt you when he pushed you away. All you wanted to do was help, try and ease some of his pain and take the weight on your own shoulders. Betrayal always cut deep. You knew of betrayal quite well. Lucas was still only eighteen, barely a man. This was his first instance of betrayal, when he’d given his heart to a girl so quickly in sheer innocence. And now you wanted to take the burn and ease the pain.

After your shift on the third day after Lucas had ripped up his resignation letter, you went to the mess hall and made two mugs of hot coffee. Tony Piccolo, Lucas’ bunkmate, had been making himself scarce most evenings to play Poker with O’Neill, Brody and Ortiz, so this would be the perfect opportunity to try and show Lucas that you truly did care.

Lucas was lying on his bunk, staring at the metal pipes which ran above his bed. He had his arms behind his head, and still, all he could see was Sandra. It had all been too good to be true; a beautiful woman like her had wanted him. Of course she had ulterior motives. Not many men would ever be good enough for her.

A sudden tap to Lucas’ door pulled him out of his reverie. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Can you open the door, Lucas? I’ve got my hands full,” you called, your voice muffled.

Lucas sighed and jumped down from his bunk, letting you in to the room. There, on a tray, were two large steaming coffees, surrounded by an assortment of sweets and candies. “Thought you might want a bit of company,” you said, offering a smile. “And some sugar. It always helps cheer me up.”

“Ummm, yeah….” Lucas replied, his voice sounding unsure and sceptical.

You could see from the set of his face that he was going to be a little awkward, but you would do your best to help his sadness. “I’ll put these down on the table,” you said. “I brought extra milk and sugar…”

“Look, thanks and everything, but I’m kinda not in the mood,” Lucas said. His blue eyes met your gaze, and in that moment he saw the flash of upset. A tiny jolt of something hit him in the chest and he moved forward. “I’m…sorry. Please, I shouldn’t have said that. Thank you.” As he focused on you, Sandra seemed to slip away briefly. And those buried feelings stirred. You may not have been outwardly stunning in your appearance with full pouting lips, a model figure and high cheekbones, but your beauty shone through your smile and sparkled in your eyes. It slipped off your tongue when you spoke words of kindness, and it left a sweet scent on the air when you showed a gesture of friendship and compassion. Lucas swallowed hard. You were far more beautiful than Sandra could have ever hoped to be.

To your surprise, Lucas stepped to you and put his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

You held him and felt him sink into you, his despair finally being let loose. He wept on your shoulder and you couldn’t help but feel yourself begin to fill with tears also, your heart breaking for him.

“I just want one person to not walk away from me,” he sobbed. “I want someone to put me first and love me.”

“You are so special,” you told him as you both parted. Lucas sniffed, his eyes red and sore.

“I want to be special to one person, you know?” he asked. “To be wanted and needed, and not just needed for when a computer needs to be fixed.”

“I need you,” you said softly. “You make me smile, help me laugh. You’re one of my closest friends, and I honestly cherish you more than you know.”

“No one truly needs me though, do they? I’m just a kid to everyone,” Lucas countered. “If you and Miguel hooked up tomorrow then you’d be all him and you wouldn’t need me.”

You took a step back and widened your eyes in shock at Lucas’ words. “I’m assuming you mentioned Miguel purely as a way to make your point and not to actually insinuate that something is going on between us. Being in a relationship isn’t the only way you can need someone, Lucas. It doesn’t somehow magically make your life complete. Trust me, it doesn’t.”

Lucas remained quiet and brushed his hand through his hair, and began to put sugar into his coffee.

“You’re eighteen, and you’ll have plenty of time to meet lots of new people,” you said softly. “I know it doesn’t take away what happened between you and Sandra, but the right people will come into your life. Maybe you just haven’t found the right people yet.”

Lucas looked at you for a second and felt a very weak smile erupt. You were definitely one of the right people in his life. He felt that. He’d always felt it. On the day you first met, when crew were being brought on board after the re-building of the infamous sub, Lucas had been checking on Darwin and you and a few other crew members had been escorted into the Moon Pool on a short tour of the vessel. Immediately you had been overcome with excitement upon seeing the dolphin. Lucas couldn’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm that day and it was here, somehow, something was born. All of the crew on the small tour were dressed in their civilian clothing; mostly the norm, T-shirts, jeans. But you were wearing a bright, colourful T-shirt with a Looney Tunes character on the front and a cardigan that way way too big for you, covered in purple stars. Your shoes were bright red Converse.

“Can you remember the day we first met?” Lucas asked suddenly, sitting down on Tony’s bunk.

You smiled, reminiscing in your first day aboard seaQuest. “Yeah, I do. It was one of the most exciting days of my life.”

“I think you got a bit more than you bargained for, huh?”

“No, I got everything I was expecting and more. I’ve made some amazing friends, had wonderful experiences, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. I can honestly say that I’m happy for the first time in years,” you replied, sipping your hot coffee. “Anyway, enough of me. I came to see how you’re doing.”

Lucas chuckled.

“That’s better,” you giggled. “Smiles suit you.” You watched Lucas hang his head and blush, a broad smile still beaming from his face.

“You’re the first person who has made me smile,” Lucas said softly. “Thank you.”

“I do have my uses. They’re few, but I do have some,” you laughed.

You sat down in the seat opposite where Lucas was perched, and you gripped the warm coffee in your hand. The smile began to dissipate from Lucas’ face and his eyes wondered towards a space behind you. What was he thinking? You wanted to take all the hurt and worry from him, throw it away, and then hold him tight. He deserved so much better than the hand he had been dealt.

“Has anyone ever broke your heart?” Lucas asked absently.

“I’ve had my heart broken many times, Lucas,” you replied. “It comes with the territory of being human, I’m afraid. Friends, family, lovers…” Well, lover. The word wasn’t plural in your case; you had only ever been in one relationship. It was a secret that you kept close to your scarred heart. At your age and point in your life, you should have had many lovers and now been preparing to settle down with one, to buy your own home, get married and have a handful of kids. But, no, you had decided to join the Navy, see the world, and forfeit that life because you felt you would never have it.

As Lucas looked up at you, he reminded you of the type of teenage boy you would have had a crush on when you were that age. Fair-haired, blue-eyed, cute. However, when you were eighteen, you were chubby, and no doubt he wouldn’t have looked at you twice. You had always been invisible to the good looking boys when you were growing up. Everyone only saw your dependable and loner nature, asking for help when they needed it, but remaining scarce any other time.

The sadness of your past began to rise in your chest and you batted away a tear, which Lucas noticed.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, moving toward you. His hand reached out to you, quivering a little as he felt unsure of what to do.

“I’m fine,” you said, faking a smile. “Your question just brought back some memories. Look at me. I come to see if you’re okay, and I’m the one who winds up crying. How stupid.”

Lucas was lost for words in those moments and just looked at you trying to push your tears away with another fake smile. Would you ever have any idea how beautiful you were? Losing Sandra had hurt, but from the betrayal itself, not losing her. And now that Sandra was no longer in his life, Lucas knew that he couldn’t stop feeling for you what he did. The time with Sandra had only been a temporary relief of the unrequited feelings that he had for you. Was she a rebound for you? Lucas had had many crushes in the last couple of years, many of them being on female crew, but with you, it was more than just a crush. He lay awake at night thinking of you, often dreamed of you and then became very embarrassed when he saw you the day after.

Sandra had seemed like a natural choice for Lucas to make. Clever, beautiful. The female equivalent of him. He’d gravitated towards that, being able to shut off his feelings for you in order to pursue a life with a girl he’d only known one night. But your differences to Lucas were what made you special. They were new, unique and a novelty to him. Sitting with a girlfriend, discussing quantum theories and computer algorithms would have been the norm and to be expected. But talking about rock concerts you attended in your youth, fantasy books you loved, and watching you laugh over the thought of Tony Piccolo getting locked outside his quarters, stark naked, was what Lucas wanted. It was what he was thriving on. You unlocked a whole new world to him, offering it. It was a world of vibrancy, humour and creativity.

“I wish I could hunt down all those people who have hurt you,” Lucas whispered.

You saw the anger in his eyes at the very thought of someone upsetting you, and you curled your hand around his. “I need you in my life more than you know,” you told him. “You keep me upright.”

“You’re good at doing that for everyone else,” Lucas said, a hint of frustration in his tone.

“It’s who I am, Lucas. I’ve always been a helper and a giver. But you’ve got to guard yourself and not give yourself over so willingly. I’ve seen you do it so much since I first met you. You pour your heart and soul into everything you do, and that can mean you lose yourself. In time, through experience, you learn who to trust and who not to. You begin to develop an anti-bullshit radar.”

“Like Tony?” Lucas laughed. Most of what that man spouted really was bullshit.

“He covers up his feelings of inadequacy,” you replied. “I tend to be able to sum people up pretty quickly.”

“How about…say, Brody?”

“Ahh, the ladies man,” you mused. “He’s confident, good-looking, but there’s a lot of hurt in him, probably around his upbringing and his mother. He likes the ladies, but deep down he’s looking for a mother figure.”

“How about Ortiz?”

“He’s pretty much an open book. Honest, practical. I’ve always liked Miguel’s straight talking nature.”

“And me?”

“Oh, come on. Have I got to go through and analyse every crew member? I’ve noticed it’s all the younger men you’re asking me about.” You nudged Lucas with your elbow. “Is there a point to this exercise? I’m guessing you want to see if I have a crush on any of these men?”

“Well, do you?”

You laughed loud. “You cheeky little shit! You had to put yourself in there, I noticed.”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me.”

“What, if you have a crush on any of the guys?” you teased, sticking your tongue out for emphasis. “Okay….I did have a bit of a crush on Miguel when I first came aboard. And Brody’s kinda cute, but that’s about it. Your turn!”

Lucas swallowed hard and then looked at you. “You.”

“What about me?” you asked, your expression turning very straight from your previous amusement.

“I’ve liked you since we first met.”

“What about Lonnie?” you asked, feeling yourself begin to shake. How had you become cornered like this?

“No, you,” Lucas replied simply.

You got up from your seat and sighed. “I’ve got to go. I need to press my uniform for in the morning…”

Lucas looked on, watching you grow flustered in your attempt to escape the conversation and the room. “Sandra has made me realise even more how deep my feelings for you are.”

“Lucas, stop it,” you said, turning on your heel. “I’m not even going to entertain such an idea of anything happening. I’m too old for you.”

Then you disappeared out of the door, slamming it behind you.

***

seaQuest tag list: @shrimpsthings​ @lathalea​

[polarishpd]

Our Own Little Pocket Of The World (Aster x Ellie)

Summary: Sophomore Ellie Chu meets Aster Flores for the first time, not in school, not at the church...but at a coffee shop. 

Word Count: 881

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The coffee shop isn’t nearly as lucrative as penning papers for desperate teenagers, Ellie thinks, and not nearly half as easy for her. Who knew it would be more instinctive to knock out philosophy papers than make a cup of coffee? 

At least it’s calming. Steady. And she can work behind the counter. 

Squahamish doesn’t have a Starbucks, or any big brands, really, just existing in its own little pocket of the world, where all the businesses are family-run and everyone knows everyone. 

It’s kind of nice, being able to hide away like this. This particular coffee shop is one that Ellie used to frequent before Fran gave her the job, when she had a little extra cash in her pocket and the time to spare. Hardly anyone of their age comes here, really, preferring to hang about in convenience stores and slurp sugary slushies. 

Quiet. The gentle smell of dark roast permeates, wafts through the air, the rhythmic sound of the coffee grinder occasionally punctuated with the sharp shrill of the panarello. The old lady in the corner sits for hours on end, ordering a single piccolo in the whole time. A routine that Ellie’s been used to, accustomed to, desensitized to. Sure, Ellie likes stability...but this is pushing it. Months of working this job have taught her to expect repetitiveness. Never ending repetitiveness. The days all feel like one. 

Overcome with boredom, just when Ellie has just picked up a pen, rolled up her flannel’s sleeves and started to write...the little bell jangles. 

Her eyes dart upwards. 

Aster. 

Aster Flores. Aster Flores. Aster Flores. Ellie’s seen her at school, all summery brown waves, denim jackets, girlish, sweet smiles. 

One of those smiles shine on her face right now. And goodness, Ellie can’t help but stare just for a while, pretend she’s got that smile for a reason other than being the ‘coffee shop barista’. 

“Hey...uh...hi? Ellie-?” Aster leans forward, eyebrows furrowing gently.

“Hi! Sorry!” It comes out much louder than intended. Ellie wants to slap herself - and she does, mentally, hard - for getting lost in those eyes, those eyes staring so confidently right into hers-

“Ellie?”

“Ah-yep! Sorry!” Aster looks seriously confused, or baffled, or...amused? The corner of her mouth quirks up in a little smile again. "What would you like?”

“I’ve never been in here before.” Ellie knew. Ellie definitely knew. Months working here, and she’d never walked in once. 

Ellie would remember, no doubt. Remember someone like that. 

“Would you-would you like some recommendations?” Ellie asks, before she can stop herself. Aster nods almost imperceptibly. Yes. “We’ve got the basics, espressos, americanos, long blacks, or if you want something a bit sweeter we’ve got lattes, flat whites-”

“What do you drink?” Aster cuts her off. Ellie silently thanks her- she could have rambled off the whole menu, not that it was very expansive - it’s Squahamish after all. Land of simplicity. 

“Sorry?” Ellie remembers to stammer out. 

“Which one do you like?” 

Ellie has to pause to think. Most days, she knocks back the coffee for the caffeine - helps her stay up, push through her rapidly expanding side gig - but on the rare day...

“I have a mix Spices, some chocolate, a little milk...

“That sounds great.” Aster smiles again. It’s a little different this time. They’re all a little different. Ellie could give each one a ten page essay. And finally, instead of staring blankly, Ellie smiles back. 

“I’ll get to it.”

~~~

And suddenly, Ellie’s routine is turned upside down. 

Every day, right after school ends, she speeds down to the coffee shop on her bike, checks in to work with Fran, sets up her laptop behind the counter, and just five minutes later-

“Hey!”  

Aster Flores walks in. 

Sometimes, she gets a latte, on the days when homework is low and smiles are high. Aster laughs at Ellie’s attempts at ‘bold’ latte art. Other times it’s a double-shot espresso, when the workload is taller than the table and stress is through the roof. 

And most of the time, it’s Ellie’s drink. The first drink Aster ever ordered, the weird little concoction off the chalkboard menu.

It goes on like this for months. Ellie goes to work. Aster comes.

For an hour, just an hour, the shop is all theirs, in the dead hour where nobody comes and nobody goes.  At four in the afternoon, in a hidden corner of Squahamish, they just...exist, tucked away in their own little pocket of the world. Away from school, where Aster’s popular and admired, where Ellie’s quiet and alone, where they ‘don’t know each other’. 

Perhaps it’s what falling in love feels like, Ellie wonders. Questions. She finds herself thinking about Aster a lot more than she probably should. Does Aster think about her too? 

Not like her, probably.

~~~

One day, after three months of talking, bonding, and laughing, Aster doesn’t show up. For a moment, Ellie’s throat closes up, eyes start to sting...and then her phone pings. 

DiegoMendez: Hey, it’s Aster. Sorry i didn’t come today. Let me make it up to you! Are you free for dinner on Sunday? My treat!

Ellie doesn’t know how, when, from who Aster got her number, but it really, really didn’t matter. 

                                          SmithCorona is typing...

~~~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed my little impromptu ficlet! Let me know if I should continue! Reblogs, likes and comments are all much appreciated :D

[trespassers-will]

Tagged by @rantmuffin (thank you~!)

Nickname: Davi

Gender: cis woman

Star sign: Virgo

Height: 5′3″

Time: 9:13 am

Birthday: September 17

Favorite bands: Nell, Day6, twenty one pilots, Naviband

Favorite solo artists: IU, Hadise, Hayley Kiyoko, Ailee

Song stuck in my head: Cash Me Out - f(x)

Last movie I saw: Kimi No Na Wa

Last show I watched: Cutthroat Kitchen

When did I create my blog: May 6th, 2012 (fun fact I was apparently also baptized on that day (my first post was about that))

What do I post: mostly kpop, pastel aesthetics, cats, sh*tposts basically

Last thing I googled: how do I find out when I joined tumblr (I’m sad I know)

Do you have any other blogs: yeah I have like 4 others but I only really use one of them for pastel aesthetics and to vague about people without anyone reading it

Do you get asks: Yeah, but not super often.

Why did you choose your url: idk i just like, thought of it one day and was like “I can’t think of anything better than this” and it became my url. Plus I like cats and space

Following: 241

Followers: 360

Fav colors: light pink, lavender, sax blue, other pastels

Average hours of sleep: uhhh 8?

Lucky number: 456

Instruments: flute and piccolo

How many blankets do I sleep with: 1

Dream job: author

Dream trip: visit England solely to see the Hundred Acre Wood. I’ll take one of my Pooh Bears with me, and we’ll play Pooh sticks

Fav food: lavender bubble milk

Nationality: American

Fav song: my current favorite is Closer by Oh My Girl, but my all-time favorite is Afterglow by Nell

I tag: @taegnsic @bulbysaur @princess-pizzas @nonbinaryjimin

[sacachorch0vo]

Dragon ball daima va a cumplir una de mis fantasías

Bueno

Casi

Se que Piccolo le lleva a Gohan cuatro años pero no me importa, yo los quiero ver juntos, necesito fanarts, fics, hc's de ellos

Son tan lindos los diseños antiguos

[appliancesreviews]

Review of Nescafe Dolce Gusto Piccolo and GAGGIA Syncrony Logic

Nescafe Dolce Gusto Piccolo

Capsular Nescafe Dolce Gusto Piccolo coffee machine fully corresponds to its name and is a very compact model. The Italian word Piccalo translates as Small or Miniature. Its dimensions are only 15 x 8 x 10,7 inches. Control is very simple and intuitive. The instruction is almost unnecessary. The preparation time of the drink is less than one minute. The model has unique design in the form of a penguin.

This coffee machine is available in several colors.

Unfortunately, the model can only use Nestle Dolce Gusto brand pods. But today the range of Nestle pods is very diverse and easily accessible.

The device prepares espresso, espresso Intenso, cappuccino, latte macchiato, Lungo, chokochino, mocha, Cortado, Americano, coffee-Grande cream, cocoa-drink Nesquik and even ice cappuccino in cold mode. The power and pressure of the model is 1500 watts and 15 bars, respectively. Model automatically turns off after 5 minutes after stopping. The height of stand for cup is adjustable. PROS: - compactness; - distinctive design; - adjustable platform height; - wide choice of drinks; - quick preparation of espresso drinks; - simple and convenient control. CONS: - volume of drink does not exceed 8 ounces at a time; - model uses only Nestle Dolce Gusto brand pods; - too small water container and its uncomfortable refilling. The video at the end of the article demonstrates the capabilities of this model.

GAGGIA Syncrony Logic RS

Italian GAGGIA Company is one of the leading manufacturers of coffee machines. Today, it offers several series of its models. The range includes coffee makers for home use and professional coffee machines for cafes and restaurants. GAGGIA Syncrony Logic RS belongs to the Synchrony Logic series. Coffee machine uses almost all modern innovations, providing excellent functionality.

This model has a very good price / quality ratio. Removable design of the brewing block and water container is one of its advantages, providing simple and convenient care. The volume of the water container is 1.7 liters. The capacity of the built-in coffee grinder with adjustable grinding degree is 350 grams of coffee beans.

A removable waste container is designed for 18 coffee portions. This coffee machine simultaneously prepares 2 cups of espresso. Coffee strength is regulated. But the preparation of cappuccino is not automated. The steam Panarello Wand has three steam channels, ensuring the rapid creation of a luxuriant milk foam. Improved frother design with a cyclonic chamber provides a milk temperature of up to 150В° C. Most other models do not provide this feature. The rotating stand significantly improves usability. The adjustable dispenser height is convenient for cups of different heights. Automatic self-cleaning and descaling greatly simplifies the care. PROS: - relatively low price for a fully automatic model; - easy to clean; - excellent milk frother; - several customizable controls; - one-touch control; - swivel base. CONS: - fully plastic casing; - Eco mode is absent. Read the full article

[pickleandthequeen]

I was tagged by @agirlnameded

A - Age: early 20s

B - Biggest Fear: death by fire, death by animal attack/tortured to death, dying alone, being in a relationship 

C - Current time: 10:20pm

D- Drink you last had: almond-coconut milk + Bailey’s Irish Cream which makes me sick but it was lovely 

E - Everyday starts with: lying in bed questioning why it’s so damn early and also reminding myself that I love my job or at least can pretend to love it for 5 more weeks 

F - Favorite Song: right now? anything by Bastille. Probably “Power” or “Glory” or “Flaws” or “Bad Blood”

G - ghosts, are they real?: Yeah

H - Hometown: an opiate hub in NY 

I - In love with: horses

J - Jealous of: people who know what they’re doing 

K - Killed someone: only in fictional stories and video games 

L - Last time you cried: I don’t remember but I almost did Thursday night, Friday morning, and numerous other times this weekend. 

M - Middle Name: I’m changing it after I graduate but Nicole

N - Number of siblings: 1

O - One wish: A baby with Striking Sahbra and/or Dream Vacation and/or Muscle Hill blood lines. Preferably a 3-7 year old gelding. 

P - Person you last called/text: my mom 

Q - Questions you’re always asked: 'why do you have a picture of a horse as your background if it’s not yours?” um because y’all don’t need to see Piccolo’s tiddies as my background. ‘how are the horses going? i heard equine psychotherapy is very beneficial’ that isn’t even close to what i’m doing but the horses i’m not working with right now are probably chillin right now. 

R - Reasons to smile: fanfiction, horses

S - Song last sang: probably a Bastille song 

T - Time you woke up: about 10AM because I had the day off and I have no self control 

U - Underwear color: various 

V - Vacation destination: Edinburgh, Cumnock, maybe Glasgow. Idk. Definitely Cumnock again. The beaches to go horseback riding with the Blackstone Clydesdales. 

W - Worst habit: Procrastination, self-deprecation to the extreme 

X - X-rays you’ve had: Elbow, chest, foot, I’ve had CT scans, ultrasounds, and MRIs too lol

Y - Your favorite food: peanut butter 

Z - Zodiac: Aquarius 

I’m too tired to tag people lol I suck

[4chanisbetter-than]

>Later 253 weeks everyone! Tonight was interesting to say the least! We learned quickly what shows affect other shows they neighbor as we welcomed Tokyo Ghoul to the block! Retro bumps and a review of Metal Gear Solid 1 happened tonight, as well as a sneak peek of the new Ghost in the Shell movie! Samurai Jack starts out the night with incredible cinematography! Snowfall happens shortly after a freezing whitewater bleed-out as Jack encounters the wolf we saw before! Fallen warriors bond as wounds heal, and Jack takes advantage of the blinding snow to take out the rest of the Daughters of Aku! Dragon Ball Super screams to the heavens as Goku and Beerus continue their fight in space! Ripples of energy shock the Earth as the citizens of Satan City fret over the frequent vibrations. Meanwhile, Vegeta looks on with his neck at a 90-degree angle. Dragon Ball Z Kai begins the World Martial Arts Tournament as Krillin one-punches his opponent out of the ring, and Piccolo forfeits his fight without a second thought. Meanwhile, Videl claims that Android 18 is in for a rough time with her fight, unaware of what she herself is in store for next round! JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure races around the coliseum as Joseph and Wamuu fight like gladiators! Weapons and horses and Hamon, oh my! Ruses are performed, and counterattacks are always countered. A fighting spirit is unlocked as Wamuu unleashes his incredibly destructive final attack. Tokyo Ghoul devours the flesh of humans as we see what it’s like when Deadman Wonderland and Parasyte have too much to drink one night. Kaneki throws up after drinking white milk, and literally every qt that was on screen turned out to be a ghoul. A man’s head is punted, and a forearm is consumed. Hunter x Hunter screeches with sonic might as more flesh is devoured. Skull fragments are used as bullets, and hair is used as needles. Shadow beasts are destroyed, a spider tattoo is flashed, and Kurapika is eternally angered, much to the dismay of Melody and her attempt at playing a “heart-calming” song. CHAIN JAIL: RESTRAINING MIDDLE FINGER Mobile Suit Gundam Unicorn displays a replica of the Unicorn model as Banagher faces enemies of all kinds! A newly revealed foe forces our protagonist to do a lot of things he’s uncomfortable with, as the battle within this agonizing war wages on. Naruto: Shippuden steals the slot that belonged to my heart and soul as Utakata gets taken out. Naruto makes sure everyone knows that Hotaru finally found “true friends™” as we hear a speech that many filler veterans are all too familiar with. Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex closes out the night with a case of rogue medical students! Organs are illegally handled and distributed, cars merge quickly and irresponsibly into other lanes, and Tachikomas are left wedged between shipping crates. Batou punches himself, and Togusa loses a game of “Chess” to a Tachikoma.

BONUS:

One Piece (385) sails on as the Straw Hats make their way to the RED LINE! At last, the one structure I’ve been eagerly waiting to see has finally revealed itself! Mariejois is not pleased with this news, but Garp is. Serpent typhoon-like waves attack the Thousand Sunny as our strongest fighters quickly apprehend them! Meanwhile, a shark submarine mission takes place in deeper depths than it should, and a mermaid falls from the sky! A REAL MERMAID!

That’s all for this 4.5 hour challenge! Sometimes it seems that life wants to go in a completely different direction than you want, and although things may seem a little uneasy at times, I’m sure solid and comfortable ground await you sooner than you’d think! The ability to adjust is one of humankind’s greatest traits, and I know we all still enjoy seeing and hearing from each other every Toonami because I know I love spending my weekends here with you guys! I’ll see you all next Saturday for Week 284! Our adventure will continue then!

[fizzyxcustard]

Fear and Loathing (4)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Read on AO3

Tumblr Masterlist of all fics

Fandom: seaQuest 2032

Summary: (Part 2 of The Right Thing - this will be a chaptered fic) Captain Hudson knows that you and Lucas are more than just friends, and after changing your shift rotations to make sure you’re not on duty together, you take things into your own hands and request a transfer from seaQuest. Before your transfer can be processed, officers and crew begin showing signs of extreme anxiety, anger and paranoia. Some are worse affected than others, you being one of them. Can you fight for not only your relationship with Lucas but your state of mind?

Pairings: Ensign Lucas Wolenczak x FemLieutenant!Reader, Commander Jonathan Ford x Lieutenant Lonnie Henderson (only slight)

Warnings: Language, violence, insecurity, angst, paranoia, anxiety, mental instability, very mild sexual references/smut mention, age difference/gap.

Comments: If you wish to be added to my seaQuest tag list, which will be separate from all my other tags, let me know, and I will only tag you in these if you specifically request to be tagged. This is practically a dead fandom now, but I would still like to share my writings with you. If you would like to ask any questions, then by all means just ask! People are probably wondering why I’m still continuing this fic when it gets so little feedback, but it’s purely because I enjoy writing it. It’d a pleasure to be reminiscing in old times.

That night, while you remained in the Med Bay, the mess hall seemed to begin hosting a midnight coffee refreshment for a handful of crew. Lonnie Henderson wandered into the room, drying the sweat from her brow and neck after waking suddenly from a nightmare of being suffocated by unseen hands. She saw Jim Brody sat with his head in his hands, and one of the engineers was resting with their eyes closed and their feet up on a chair.

“Tough night?” Lonnie asked, approaching Brody.

He gasped suddenly, nearly jolting out of his chair. “Yeah….ugh…..sorry,” he grumbled, and rubbed his face, trying to force himself more fully awake.

“What’s going on tonight?” Lonnie asked. “No one can sleep and everyone is on edge.” She then said your name and her eyes widened. “Do you think it’s got anything to do with her and the virus?”

“I doubt it,” Brody scoffed. “A virus that gives panic attacks and nightmares?”

“Come on, Jim. We’ve seen things more unbelievable than that in the last two years. We’ve contacted aliens and come face to face with Greek gods, yet we can’t believe that a virus may exist which causes panic and fear?”

Lucas remained in the Med Bay that night, falling asleep next to your bed. The gentle beeping of the monitors swept him into a dream. There was water, screams and fear. They were your screams; begging him for help. Lucas only remembered the cold water and your screams as he jerked awake.

Your eyes were open and you were smiling at him. “You okay? Have a bad dream?” you asked, yawning. You felt groggy, but strangely content, especially upon seeing Lucas.

He rushed to you, cupped your cheek and then kissed you softly. But gradually the kiss grew deeper, and hotter, until he pulled away. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Just tired,” you replied.

“Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Can I have a cold drink, please? Soda, milk, water. Just something cold.”

Lucas left the room and you pulled yourself up slowly. A thumping headache began in your temples and behind your eyes, a sure sign of tension and stress that you knew all too well.

***

The next two days saw more crew visiting not only the mess hall at night but the Med Bay, asking for advice on nightmares and panic attacks. Even Captain Hudson had noticed that he seemed more on edge of late. There were far too many crew affected now for it not to be noticeable and not be a problem that needed addressing.

Jonathan Ford and Tim O’Neill, along with a couple of the engineers, Dagwood, the chief cook and the doctor himself, were the only people who seemed to be unaffected. Every other person was showing symptoms, to varying degrees, of fear, panic and dread.

On the third day of you being in the Med Bay, a mild sedative still in your system to calm the nightmares you were having a night, you were awoken to Lieutenant Fredricks being pulled into the room by Brody and O’Neill.

“Please, don’t. They’ll run experiments on me,” she wept, pulling against the two men either side of her.

The screams had pulled you out of another beckoning nightmare with the visiting shadow demon, who sometimes came to you at night and stood at the foot of your bed. All of the noise and commotion shook you to the core, causing a shockwave of anxiety to race through you like a power surge. But your concern for your comrade still trumped the fear you felt.

“Freddie?” you called to her. She continued weeping uncontrollably as Brody and the doctor held her down on the bed, ready to administer a sedative. “Freddie? You’ll be okay. I promise. They won’t hurt you.” You slipped out of bed, almost falling in your weakness, and you took her hand in yours. “Shhh, it’ll be okay.”

The feel of your hand in hers, and your kind words, soothed Fredricks as the sedative was administered by the doctor.

“How can she feel so much fear when she has an implant?” Brody asked.

“The virus is somehow overpowering every other emotion in those who are the worst affected,” the doctor replied. “I don’t think the sedatives, long term, will be enough. The UEO still has no idea what’s causing this. They’re requesting blood works be sent of each crew member who is affected, which is over eighty per cent. I don’t know if I can get that many reports sent over all at once in the time frame they’re asking for.”

“How long are they asking for, Doc?”

“A week. I’ve only got the capacity to run five blood samples every twelve hours. That’s ten every twenty-four hours, and there are well over a hundred crew affected by this. If this gets worse, we may have to abandon the tour and return to land to fully hospitalise and test everyone. And we don’t know how contagious this is or where it came from.”

By the end of the week, the Med Bay was full. Most of the crew were utterly exhausted through lack of sleep due to night terrors. Frequent fights were breaking out over mundane issues. The latest fight had been when Tony Piccolo had had the last croissant at breakfast, pissing off an engineer. A broken nose and black eye later, Tony found himself in the Med Bay for a couple of hours.

You still kept dreaming of the shadow demon, and often you huddled under the covers, hiding from him, just in case he appeared at the end of your bed again. The fear seemed to come in waves; you would be peaceful for a few hours and then suddenly feel the panic rise and see the shadow at the end of your bed, set with glowing eyes and saliva dripping from sharp fangs. Nights were horrendous as that’s when the most fear came out to play and it hung over you all like a thick mist. Fredricks often woke screaming in the bed next to you. The engineer in the bed opposite you had had regular seizures. Thankfully, you had only had one.

The milder cases meant that crew had to continue working, despite being exhausted. Jonathan Ford felt as though he had had no sleep in a week. Every waking moment and he was on the bridge, taking the helm for part of it while Hudson tried to ward off the anxiety that was beginning to get the better of him. Tim O’Neill hadn’t seen his quarters in days, and was often found most nights dozing off in his seat on the bridge. Dagwood had even offered to help, but his kind offer was politely rejected.

Captain Hudson had been having regular talks with Secretary McGath, and it was now becoming a viable option to abandon the tour and return to shore. However, this virus was still unknown, and the UEO would have to make sure that strict quarantine procedures were put in place once the seaQuest returned to its berth. Crew would not be able to disembark immediately. McGath reassured Hudson that everything that could be done by the UEO was being done. The blood samples were being tested; each crew member, one by one, even those who were not affected and weren’t showing symptoms. Some were being tested multiple times. Even full genome scanning had now begun to try to pinpoint some kind of link to all those affected. The UEO had already received the sub’s black box recordings, knowing exactly where it was at any given time. No other infections had been reported in the waters recently visited.

Lucas lay in his bunk, listening to Tony’s snores from below. The snores had been louder and more obnoxious since his broken nose. Lucas was scared to sleep. Dark circles were beginning to frame his blue eyes, marring his pale complexion. Every evening and he visited you, sitting with you for a couple of hours. He would read to you, trying to soothe your nerves. But Fredricks’ outbursts would put you on edge and Lucas knew that any kind of relaxation was impossible. Whenever he closed his eyes, Lucas would see the water and hear you calling for him. It all felt so real, maybe too real.

The hallways were quiet, but then he would feel the energy buzzing from the mess hall, which was usually full of half dozing crew. Should he go for a wander tonight? Maybe a swim with Darwin would help. Or would the water only exacerbate the dreams?

He didn’t know how long he lay awake, but Lucas looked up at the pipes which ran above his bunk. He looked at the photo of you both which he had taped to the metal. You had your eyes open wide, shocked, whilst Lucas was gritting his teeth, pretending to be angry. He remembered fondly all the staged photographs that Tony took of you both whenever you were on shore leave back when Captain Bridger was aboard. There was such a happiness and peace amongst the crew. He remembered when Jim Brody had attempted to flirt with you once or twice, for him only to be scoffed at. Flirting had never impressed you. Humour and compassion impressed you.

He missed you so much, and slowly he turned over, pulling a pillow to his chest, trying to imagine it was you. To think that Lucas had been prepared to give up his place on seaQuest when he met Sandra just over a year ago. She had deceived him, pretending to interested in a relationship, when she only wanted the emergency codes to gain access to seaQuest. And now he was with you. It was a much, much deeper connection, that ran right through to his bones. It had become a dependency on you, a need, and considering that you were the one who had taken his virginity, that made everything so much stronger. Even though he had always had a crush on you since your first meeting, his very brief relationship with Sandra helped him forget the unrequited feelings he had for you. But then they came back even stronger. You had been the one to pick up the pieces of his broken trust that she had left behind.

Lucas lay awake, his eyes stinging with fatigue. Until finally he jumped down from his bunk and wondered out into the hallway, venturing towards your quarters. He just wanted to be close to you in some way, even if only sleeping on your bed.

The room smelled of you, sweet and flowery. And as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him, Lucas smiled to himself. There was a small stack of books on your desk with a pot of pens, all alongside your computer. A potted, ornamental plant and two matching china owls decorated the desk.

On your bed was your favourite patchwork quilt and on the wall were photos and little drawings that you had doodled. Lucas looked closer at the photos, recognising a few of you both with other members of the crew on shore leave. Then there were pictures of you with people whom he had never seen before, no doubt old friends or family members.

Lucas lay on your bunk and wrapped himself in your quilt, inhaling. He immediately felt warmth radiate through his chest and stomach, easing the tension. Exhaustion made it impossible for him to stay awake any longer, and gradually he fell into a deep sleep.

The dream changed; it was no longer water, but darkness. A light shone in the distance, a faint candlelight and when he got closer to it, he saw that he was standing in an empty garden. A candle, resting in a glass jar was upon the grass. He picked up the candle and began to walk, following a pathway. The whole place was empty, quiet and dark. The feeling of being so alone made Lucas’ heart speed up, pounding like a drum in his chest. Where was everyone?

He began to call, hoping someone would answer. But nothing. No one was there. Everyone had deserted him.

With a gasp, Lucas woke suddenly. He wiped his cheek, only to feel a tear clinging to it.

***

Captain Hudson reluctantly agreed for UEO officers to come aboard seaQuest in two days’ time to begin the gradual emptying of the sub of all crew. The crew would be taken to a contained quarantine facility in Florida whilst tests were still being carried out and their symptoms could be monitored closer.

Secretary McGath’s image dominated Hudson’s screen in his quarters. “Captain, it’s obvious that the crew aren’t recovering from this virus, whatever it is, and bringing the seaQuest into berth could possibly cause a contamination of the coastlines.

“So you’re saying that the boat has to be left out here in the middle of the Atlantic with no crew aboard?” Hudson asked in disbelief.

“Oliver, what else do you propose we do? The biggest cause for concern is the sub’s bio skin which can quite easily carry viruses and disease. Until we know what this virus is and how it’s affecting the crew, we have no other option. seaQuest will have to remain dead in the water until our chief scientists have figured out what needs to be done. All the sub’s recordings and mission data are still being analysed.”

***

seaQuest tag list: @shrimpsthings​