#Push Cart Vendors

[tigoonacom]

Tigoona design caters to the functional requirements of many businesses on the bicycle. At the same time, it will bring pride to Push Cart Vendors and these vendors with its unique, elegant design character.

[thissidekhushi]

Tigoona is a design-led initiative to help improve the quality of life and earning potential of street entrepreneurs and refresh last-mile connectivity by giving better mobility, better visibility & better retailing standards. Tigoona is a Solution for Street Vendors. Click on https://www.tigoona.com/helping-street-vendors-india

[eqt-95]

A double whammy? I hope you don't mind, but I think you're up to it... ❤️💜

Lena was a woman of science, and anyone in that industry could tell you that external factors could interrupt normal behavior. Like heat. 

It was summertime, and Lena did not do well in the heat. Her skin would burn, she’d melt with discomfort, and her brain would get muggier than the humidity. Sure, National City's heat was contributing, but it was nothing on the exposed arms and glimpses of midriff and polished abs her very best friend’s outfit had on display. 

Lena stood with her popsicle melting under the summer sun and pretended not to stare like she was the thirstiest lesbian on the planet. Meanwhile, Kara debated between the keylime or the berry cream popsicle from the very patient vendor with Ruby and Esme weighing their own very serious choices.

“Careful, someone might catch you gawking,” Sam grinned, taking a swipe across her own raspberry-lemonade treat.

“I’m not gawking. I was… just…”

“Admiring? Observing? Panting?” Sam offered.

“What’d you get?” she continued, not waiting for Lena’s reply before crunching into the strawberry basil popsicle in Lena’s hand.

“Hey!” was her lame, muggy-brained response. A pout came next as she looked at the Sam-shaped teeth marks in her popsicle.

“Yum,” Sam mocked, chomping down on the icy treat and shooting Lena a mischievous smirk and an antagonistic wag of her own, unmarred popsicle. 

Lena would blame it on her sufficiently over-baked patience later, but for the moment, a surge of irrational competitiveness overpowered normal social behavior which was why, without warning, her hand extended to grip Sam’s forearm and her mouth plunged downward, wrapping her lips fully around Sam’s popsicle and slurping upward.

Revenge was achieved. The world was balanced.  Sam looked mutinous. Lena grinned, wiping a small dribble from her chin. Esme giggled from the popsicle cart. Then: “Aunt Kara is eating wood!”

Lena turned her attention to the trio. Ruby was smiling ludicrously while happily licking away at her orange treat. Esme had her little hands clutched around a purple one laughing with unhinged delight. And then there was Kara. Kara who was negotiating three and a half popsicles. Half because Kara’s mouth was clearly full. And chewing. And crunching - gnawing. And looking red faced. And uncomfortable. And like she might take flight any second.

“Kara?” Lena managed, ignoring the suggestive elbow from Sam. “Are you… are you eating the stick?”

Kara immediately shook her head; eyes watering, shifting awkwardly. Then, slowly, nodded when Lena’s brow arched in suspicion.

“You know you’re not supposed to do that, right?” Ruby inserted, casually twirling her own.

And Kara simply nodded again.

—

Lena was a woman of science, and anyone in that industry could tell you about how any hypothesis was established through extensive observation.

It was through regular observation that Lena knew all of Kara’s quirks and habits. It was why Lena was quick to notice a new habit appear. Kara squirmed. She squirmed and blushed and stammered more often than usual. 

So Lena pushed the limits, checking in when Kara’s new traits showed up and, perhaps Lena was putting a little bit too much hope into it, but there seemed to be a correlation with, well, Lena.

But she needed more data. She was a woman of science after all, and anyone in that industry could tell you about the months and years it took to observe, test, and bring to market a new product.

That was where a range of experiments came in: 

Experiment no. 1: Weekly Brunch

Constant: location (Noonan’s), time, day, and table

Variable: Lena wore a low cut dress

Results: Kara dripped egg yolk onto her pants, syrup onto the table, and dribbled orange juice down her chin and onto her shirt

Experiment no. 2: Compromising Situation #1, the elevator

Constant: location (L-Corp private lift), floor change

Variable: an IT cart was ‘accidentally’ parked in the cab, taking up 95% of the space and requiring Lena to press into Kara for the full 63-floor ride

Results: Kara’s work laptop screen was crushed between her fingers

Experiment no. 3: Game night

Constant: location (Alex + Kelly’s), time, day, company, food

Variable: wine; more specifically, wine location: top shelf, hard to reach without a little black ink revealed on Lena’s back.

Results: Alex called Kara out for floating

Experiment no. 4: Compromising Situation #2, Al’s

Constant: location (Al’s), time, day, and company

Variable: their usual table was ‘missing’ one chair, leaving a musical chair situation until Lena simply sat in Kara’s lap

Results: Kara didn’t speak the entire night

Experiment no. 5: Movie night

Constant: location (Lena’s apartment), time, day, company

Variable: chocolate covered strawberries

Results: invalid

Note: experiment considered an outlier and to be noted in future studies. Before Lena could follow through with her protocol, Kara lifted a strawberry to Lena’s lips who, taken aback, bit into the strawberry. Kara replied ‘good girl’, popped the rest into her own mouth, and Lena didn’t speak for the rest of the night

Experiment no. 6: Lunch date

Constant: location (L-Corp), food, time, company

Variable: Lena ordered the greasiest double-patty available

Results: 

The experiment wasn’t going well, and even Lena Luthor’s patience had a limit for inconsistent data. That data was currently slurping her straw through the final dredges of an extra large milkshake from Big Belly Burger. That limit was when Kara Danvers stopped squirming and blushing and stuttering over Lena’s sultry, albeit ineffective, attempts at making a juicy burger look sexy.

The limit was crossed when, unaware of Lena’s greasy chin and flexing fingers and soft moan, Kara went and flipped the tables by turning Lena's anatomy into goop. How? It started when Kara dragged a finger over the cup’s inner wall and licked it clean with a demeanor that was making a different sort of mess. 

Another set of underwear ruined by a Kryptonian. And not even in the way Lena dreamed it.

It was when Kara reached a second finger into the cup that Lena’s patience let out a small whimper which years of practice covered up with a tiny cough.

“Darling,” she choked, throat tighter than the forgotten straw on the coffee table. She stretched her lips into a smile and crossed her legs. Always crossed her legs.

“Hm?” Kara asked, two vanilla-covered fingers deep inside her mouth, tongue swirling with the practice of

“I think you've sufficiently polished your milkshake.”

And Kara, blessed Kara, stared longingly at the empty cup like a puppy who'd just been abandoned on a farm. 

And Lena, cursed Lena, only then noticed the dribbles of milkshake left behind of Kara's lips and chin and now her tongue was-

“Right,” Lena said with a finality that included slapping her hands on her thighs, exhaling shakily, and standing with hopes that Kara couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary on her walk back to a desk of libido-killing work. 

“Hey Lena?” Kara asked, and when Lena turned around, Kara was standing. Close. Like, directly-in-front-of-her close. Like, Lena-could-have-wavered-an-inch-and-collided-with-her close. 

“K-Kara, what-?” she asked before taking a step back and pressing into her desk.

“You’ve got a little something-” Kara began, staring intently at Lena’s mouth.

“I-I do? Where-” Lena stammered. She lifted a hand to wipe at her mouth, only to feel it captured by a strong, warm, steady Kryptonian hand. 

“I got it,” Kara offered instead, and before Lena could process air or space or time, Kara’s lips were on hers. They were on hers and sending shockwaves of surprise and confusion and arousal and - to hell with thinking. Instinct won out, and she returned the kiss, letting out the soft whimper she’d always concealed and leaned into the softness of Kara’s lips, and gave access when her tongue trailed along Lena’s lower lip.

“I don’t think you can call these outliers anymore,” Kara smirked minutes later.

And Lena, too breathless and stunned to play calm, cool, and collected, absolutely folded: “How did you-?”

“Sam,” Kara said simply before interrupting Lena’s outrage with another kiss.

“Well, you know what they say,” Lena offered, still breathless but less stunned, “twice is just a coincidence.”

“Care to make it a pattern then?”

“Absolutely.”

Lena was a woman of science, after all.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Some Wrecker headcanons for Wrecker Wednesday

Look, I know I talk about food a lot, but it's my true love, so I'm not sorry, and I'll probably definitely do it again.

Because this man can cook. He never really even considered cooking before the Batch got to Pabu, but after trying Shep's sushi, Wrecker and Omega begged Shep and Lyana to teach them how to make it. That was how it started.

And because Wrecker is intensely competitive and loves a challenge, he pushed himself to make the most perfect kriffin' sushi on the island. The most precise knife work for his sashimi, the most uniform nigiri, and when he perfected maki on the first day, he demanded a real challenge and immediately graduated to uramaki.

The Marauder was sticky for three days afterward.

After that, he wanted to learn it all. Every time he went to a new food cart on Pabu, he'd watch the vendor's techniques and try to replicate them exactly when he was practicing on his own. He scoured the holonet for new recipes and tutorials. He started testing new flavor combinations (some of them were so bad even Batcher wouldn't eat them, but mostly they were good to great), and combining different techniques, and experimenting with new ingredients that the Batch encountered on their travels. Sometimes it was a huge success, and sometimes it was a spectacular failure, but either way, he learned something new every single time.

Over time, he realized that the type of cooking he enjoyed most was the fiddly, delicate, precise work; he was good at it from all those years working with sensitive explosives, and he liked to keep his skills sharp. But what he loved most was when his family all sat down to eat a meal he'd painstakingly cooked for them, balancing Omega's endlessly curious palate with Hunter's sensitivity to overwhelming flavors and Crosshair's love of spicy and acidic food. When he found the perfect dish to satisfy all three? Well, that was a good day.

Taglist:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49

@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella

@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream

@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep

@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine

@multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam

@skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist

@cw80831 @kimiheartblade @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal

@reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose

@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @yve-barr

@dangraccoon @transactivecybermemory @etod

[lokideservesahug]

A Whole New World

Part of the 𝓕1 𝓕𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓼𝔂 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader (Aladdin AU)

Warnings: No descriptions of reader except she has hair, sexism, Abu is actually Max Fewtrell

Notes: Here is the first of two parts for the Lando/Aladdin au. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Princess Y/N has turned down many suitors over the years. So why is it that a certain 'Street rat' has captured her attention?

Word Count: 4.1 k

Part 2

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Throughout your entire life, all you have known is the confinement of the Palace walls you were raised in. You understand why you were kept in the grounds of the palace but it didn't make things any more exciting.

So with that train of thought, you devise a cunning plan one morning. No one could let you leave the Palace... but practically,  could leave if no one knew. So that's what you did. You waited until the right day came (when the guards that always fell asleep were on rotation).

For a place that was wanted to be so "heavily guarded", it was surprisingly easy to sneak out. All it took was a moth-bitten, aged brown robe of your mother's, may she rest in peace, and a calculated amount of agility (that was all but taught to you in your lessons of grace and decorum as a child). When you finally step foot outside the Palace for the first time in your life, you are left awestruck.

Colossal warm-toned pillars towered over you; despite your power in the country, they make you feel insignificant.

Despite this foreign territory, you find that the city is easy enough to navigate, just as long as you remember the way you came. City life was unsurprisingly bustling yet the unfamiliar loud noises make you smile rather than wince. It truly was a nice contrast to your regular surroundings.  When you eventually reach the centermost part of the town, a plethora of market stands decorated in all sorts of attention-catching fabrics line every corner. As you trek further, someone runs past you, pushing you slightly to the side. When you turn to berate them, however, you see that it's only one of many children playing - by running slightly too fast.

Your heart warms at the sight. However, your attention was drawn to a pair of boys, no older than about 8 standing in place, longingly staring at the baker's cart. You crouch down to their level and think about how best to approach this interaction with the first stranger you've spoken to in years.

"Oh gosh. Are you hungry?" You ask the scrawny boys. The taller of the two looks at you and the wordless answering his eyes is enough to act. You grab a loaf of bread from the cart to your side and hold it to the boy staring at you in what now appears to be awe. "Here. Take some bread." At your actions, the pair light up like children on Christmas day and proceed to run off with a newfound pep in their steps.

As you watch them run off, you hear a new voice begin to shout. "Hey! You are stealing from me?" Left dumbfounded at his words, you try and utter a response. "Stealing? No, I was just-" The man doesn't even begin to let you explain your actions as he cuts across you "Well you have not paid!" You see his eyes give you a quick one over as he continues "You either pay, or I take your bracelet."

Once more, you try and explain your predicament. "Sir I don't have any money" At your words, he grabs your bracelet-clad arm and begins to try and pry your jewelry from you. "Let go of me!" Despite your words, the man does not stop his attempts at removing your accessory. Your aggressor once more goes to shout in your face when suddenly, someone steps between you and the vendor. "Woah, take it easy man."

"Kalil walks away from the stall and she" The added emphasis on the pronouns makes you shrink into yourself "steals the bread." "Those children were hungry" This man's behaviour was outrageous. How can he be so cruel to those so unfortunate?

"Those children were starting. I did no-"

"OK. Just give me a second" After he speaks, your 'saviour' turns to you as the man behind him says "Keep your street rat nose out of my business! Huh?" The younger man turns to you again and asks in a soft, quiet tone "Do you have any money?" "No!" Your response comes as his hands easily find a place around your bracelet-clad wrist. "OK," His look becomes much more determined as he says his next words "Alright. Just trust me."

Before you can fully register his words he has turned around and you notice your bare wrist as he speaks to the vendor once more. "Here you go" You don't even have any time to protest. "This is what you wanted right?" He holds up your bracelet almost like a trophy and his actions make you sick to your stomach. The street vendor then sports a massive grin as he resounds to the man you thought was your Knight in shining armor. "Yes. Thank you." The younger man adds "Oh and an apple for your troubles."

By the time the fruit has left his hands, he has already turned and grabbed your wrist to swiftly guide you away. "Hey! That was my-" You let out a frustrated huff " I think not leaving without my bracelet." "You mean this bracelet?" The younger man all but huffs lowly. "Come on."

His actions leave you starstruck but as you hear the vendor shout, you begin to worry. "Lando. Thief! Lando." "Are we in trouble?" You turn to the man to your left. "Only if we get caught."

"Lando!" "Down that alley. The monkey knows the way." You'd been so wrapped up in the unwilling events that you had somehow managed to miss the monkey sitting on the man's (Lando you assume) shoulder. You can hear the vendor shout in the background but you're more focused on the freaking monkey moving from his shoulder to yours.

You go to protest but his gentle murder of reassurance that "You'll be fine" leaves you with no room to argue. As promised, the monkey really does know the way. You find yourself darting over and under places you never would have dreamed existed as you can hear the distant shouts and murmurs of the so-called "street rat's" escape.

As you dart around yet another corner, the man almost runs into you. Damn, he's good at this. You watch in amusement at his theatrics covering his elution of the guards. After kicking over some scaffolding with some Kingdom guards on, he turns to you. "Together on three." You repeat his words back to him to show your understanding. "We jump." "We jump?" There isn't much time for your confusion before he smiles and leans down. "There's no need to repeat everything I say"

He begins his counting and as he reaches the final "three!" He leaps from beside you. You look down at his safe landing but when he notices your absence and whips around to find you, you can't help but apologize. "I'm sorry. But I just can't do this." His eyes never leave yours despite the increasing volume of shouts "Look at me. You can do this." You spare a glance at the guards. Well, you have nothing to lose if you jump (aside from your life).

You aren't even fully aware of your feet leaving the ground or even your body in the air. Yet you certainly notice when you land tangled up with your savior. You glance nervously at the man and quickly detach yourself as he stands up and begins to run away. With no choice but to follow him, you find yourself running along rooftops and jumping (albeit smaller gaps) once again.

You lose sight of him for a moment but when you see the monkey from before look over and squeak at the edge, you begin to worry. That disputes when you see the man stick his head above the edge. "Let's go. I know somewhere where we'll be safe."

He leads you down to the ground once more. You can't help but stop and ask "Where are we?" His only response response "You'll see" as he grabs a rope. Suddenly, the sound of mechanical wiring fills your ears and in front of you where there used to be nothing, a set of stairs appears.

"Woah. Is this where you live?" He smiles in response to your words. "Yep. Just me and Max who come and go as we please." So Max is the name of his monkey you note. When you reach the top of the stairs, your eyes are greeted by a tremendous sight.

A giant cloth roof hangs over the brick space with smaller paper lamps hanging off the material. Your attention however is caught by the balcony on the far side of the space that you instantly rush to. You take in the city skyline for the first time properly. You shed your cloak as you began "I can't believe..." "What?" "I can't believe that we just did that. That we're even alive. With that chase and all of the running and jumping. It was amazing." "Tea?" He asks yet you don't focus on his words.

"Thank you. And thank you for getting me out of there... Lando? Was it?"

"Uhm You're welcome..." At his silence, you try and rack your brain for a quick lie. "Dalia! I... am Dalia" "Dalia. From the Palace?" Your eyes widen at his words. Oh no. "How could you tell?" "Well only someone from the palace would ever be able to afford a bracelet like that. Oh obviously and that silk lining is imported as well. It goes from the merchants at the Dock straight to the Palace. You look down as if you've been caught.

"At least not to servants" Oh no. He really was good. "Well, not to most servants. Meaning you must be a handmaiden to the princess!" You let out a sigh of relief at his words. "Impressive." "If you think that's impressive, you need to see the city from up there." He points to a ledge above the balcony and you turn in excitement to view more of this spectacle. You climb up and look upon your city in awe. It truly is beautiful. You mumble to yourself about how you should get out more (the irony not being lost in your mind) but Lando overhears your words.

"You should tell the princess to get out more. No one has seen her in years." "They won't let her. Ever since my-" You catch yourself before eyes dully slip up "the queen was killed in cold blood the sultan has been terrified for the safety of his daughter. So she's kept locked away." "It seems everyone has been afraid since then. But the people really had nothing to do with it. The people truly loved her." You can't help yourself smiling "They did, didn't they?"

You pick up a small, guitar leaned up against the wall. "Is this yours?" Lando doesn't look you directly in the eyes as he responds. "Sort of, it's borrowed." You then begin to play a tune of your past. "My mother taught me that song" He sounds almost sorrowful as he says it. "Mine too.: "It's all I can remember of her." You frown at his words. "You say you live alone? What happened to your father?"  "I lost them both when I was extremely young. I've been on my own ever since. It's alright it's just..." "What?" He begins to make his way up the stairs to your level as he continues "It's a little sad. Having a monkey be the only authority figure in your life." His words cause you to laugh slightly. And for the first time since your meeting, you finally have the time to take in his features.

His brown hair juts out in many directions with one curl in the centre hanging over his forehead. His blue eyes staring at you are enchanting. As you look down during your chuckle, you can't but notice that (unsurprisingly with his lifestyle) his physicality isn't bad on the eyes either. His words bring you back to reality as he continues.

"It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm" "Trapped." You finish his words off, knowing exactly the feeling. You continue as his gaze fixes on you again "Like you can't escape what you were born into?" He murmurs a quiet "yes" whilst nodding. The two of you continue to stare into each other's eyes when you both hear the shouts of sailors coming to Dock. "Welcome Prince Anders" the guards exclaim. A giant extravagant ship, carrying a royal crest on the sail shatters your brief, calm fantasy.

"I have to get back to the Palace!" "This way." Lando nods to the way you came. And once again, you did yourself blindly following the man (after you pick up your cloak of course). You begin to gravel the way you came but with increased pace. Lando smiles behind you at your urgency. "It's just another prince coming to try and court the princess." You stop briefly. "Yes. And I need to prepare her... Oh! Do you have my bracelet?" "Yeah," He rummaged in his pocket whilst you scan the horizon to gauge how much time you have. "I'm sure I put I in here." His movements become more frantic as he tries to search for your lost jewelry. "Somewhere... Max, did you take it?" The monkey stares at him and just scratches his head.

"That was my mother's bracelet..." You feel almost, lost. "Yes. And it's truly beautiful." You suddenly come to a realization. "You are a thief." "Yes but-" "And I am so naïve" You quickly then away from him and begin to rush towards the Palace as a mix of disappointment and sadness swirl in your gut. You hear his shouts behind you but you can't even bring yourself to turn around and look at him.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"Welcome Prince Anders" Your father's words become a blur as you stand at the top of the palace stairwell. You began to descend the stairs as you pondered. Your patience was growing thin with the amount of suitors coming to court you. It wasn't that you had an issue with marriage, it was just that you had an issue with the suitors that kept coming. Every single one was here for power (which you understood you suppose) but all had fatal character flaws. They were either too involved with the patriarchy or wanted 15 children or some other outlandish thing. You hadn't found the perfect suitor yet. You couldn't even think of what this perfect man would be like but you knew that you would just know. Your brain drifts momentarily to the blue eyes from earlier and you don't have any time to ponder on it before your father's words cut through your thoughts.

"Prince Anders, this is my daughter Y/N." You hear a gasp from the man now standing opposite you. "Wow. Why did no one tell me of your beauty?" "No one mentions yours either." Your words (arguably a jab) at the man only make him chuckle. " Oh! Thank you. They say that in Skånland. Yeah. Right?" He turns to his men behind him. They laugh with the prince but if it's genuinely funny to them or just to amuse their leader, you're unsure. "It is very amusing." "Is it?" Your words cut him off slightly. "We have the exact same title yet are never described the same way." Your father clears his throat and mutters your name as a warning.

The prince awkwardly nods his head in agreeance with your words when he suddenly spots your tiger growling slightly. "Oh! What is that? Wait, don't tell me. It is a cat... with stripes." A distant voice calls to the prince "He likes you." Once more, the prince continues to talk of his greatness by adding "Oh yeah! In Skånland, cats love me. Here kitty. Pst pst." He begins to approach your four-legged companion and with this, the tiger to your side begins to growl with increased volume. You aren't even looking at either of them when you hear a scream followed by many sets of laughter.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

After you kindly dismissed the prince with soft apologies and promises of friendship. You find yourself wandering the halls of the palace in search of your father. You assume that he is in his regular place in his office. But as you walk down the corridor, you hear shouts that you can't quite make out and then two murmurs of "Invading Shiribad is the" You cut across your father's words "Invade Shiribad?" You turn and look at the man accompanying your father. Jafar, your father's second in command and a true thorn in your kingdom's side sometimes. "Why on Earth would we invade the kingdom of my mother?" "We would never, ever invade Shiribad" At your father's agreement, you opt for a sharper glare to give Jafar. "But an ally I'm Skånland would improve our situation." You brush off his accusatory tone as your father answers him. "Yes. If you consider giving Prince Anders a chance-" "To rule? Father that man is power-hungry and clearly only cares about his own image. Even Rajah would make a better leader than him!" You point to the tiger sitting beside you. "My dear, I am not getting any younger and as more time passes, the urgency of finding you a husband increases. And we are running out of kingdoms."

At his chuckles you roll your eyes. "What...foreign prince could care for our people as I do? I could lead if..." "My dear, you can not be sultan. It has never been done in the 1,000-year history of our Kingdom." "I have been preparing for this my entire life. I have read every book possible, I have-" "Books?" Jafar finds a way to weasel know your conversation. "You can not read experience. Inexperience is lethal. People left unchecked will revolt. Both walls and borders will be attacked if left unguarded."

"Jafar is right. One day, you will understand. You can leave now." Your father's words cause you to huff in frustration but flee the room.

As you exit with Rajah following closely behind you, you hear footsteps pacing towards you. Rajah growls as Jafar says softly yet condescendingly "Life would be kinder to you princess. If you were to accept these traditions and understand that it is better for you to be seen rather than heard."

You refused to meet his eyes and after he was clearly done with his demeaning speech, you walked away to your Chambers.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"Surely there is something I can do." You speak to your handmaiden, Dalia (the real handmaiden Dalia) as she rubs your shoulders. "Oh, what a hard life you lead. I wish I would have the struggle of having to choose which prince to marry. Oh, the tall and clever one or the clever and handsome one. A handsome prince wants to marry you, when will life get easier." You disregard her sarcastic tone "It's not that I don't want to marry. It's just... "You want to be sultan. But why would you with  life like yours?" You turn and smile at her. "Do you remember remember my mother used to say? We would only ever be as happy as" Dalia choruses the last few words as you say them " our least favorite subject." You paused. "If she saw what I did today she'd be shattered." Dalia takes your hands and gives you a sympathetic smile. "She would also want you to be safe. And clean, I'll draw a bath"

"Jafar's guards on every corner? What kind of dystopia are we living in? I can help." You then look at the woman now behind you. "I know I can. I was born for so much more determined just marrying some useless prince!" "If you had to marry a useless prince prince could certainly do much, much worse than this one. Who's tall and dreamy? And he may be a little bit dim but you're only getting married. It's not like you'd have to talk to him." You furrow your brows at her. "But you'd much prefer that boy from the market." You feel your cheeks heat up. She laughs as she walks off and you can't seem to find it in you to disagree with her words.

As promised, she leaves to go to the adjacent room and draw a bath for you. Suddenly, a loud knock cuts through the quiet night breeze. That's odd. There aren't usually visitors coming to see you at this time of night. You open the tall door (that is surprisingly light) and you are met with the same blue eyes that have been plaguing your thoughts all afternoon. You don't even register your gasp before he is asking the same thing as he asked you this afternoon. "Tea?" He smiles warmly at you. "You... You! What on Earth are you doing here?" The sound of guards growing nearer fills your ears. "Get in here." You grab him and push him into the room whilst also surveying the corridor.

"I needed to come and return your bracelet." You freeze momentarily at his words. "What? Where is it?" You can hear his subtle smirk as he says "Already on your wrist." You glance down and as promised, your mother's bracelet once more on your arm. You can hear Lando compliment your interior design choices but your biggest worry is "How did you slip past the palace guards?" He turns to look at you, tray of tea and saucers still in hand. "I'll admit, that was challenging. But I have my ways." Once more, an accomplished smile finds its way on his face.

"Whilst the princess is out, would you perhaps like to go on a stroll?" You almost forgot about the Alias you adopted later... "Have a little chat?" "You are unbelievable. You can't just break into a palace and begin to walk around like you own the place!" Despite your reprimanding him, you feel a slight smile tug on your lips at his sheer boldness. "Well, you have to act like you own everything if you own nothing... So what do you say? I did find your bracelet after all." "Find it? You were the one that stole it!" "Actually, the monkey stole it." "He's your monkey!" "He smirks and says "Still a monkey." His words make you laugh and you can't remember the last time someone made you this happy.

"Who ordered the tea?" You didn't even notice your handmaiden return but at Dalia's words, you both quickly spin to look at her. All Lando can muster is a simple "Uh..." Before you cut across him " I did!" You go to move behind Lando so you can subtly communicate with Dalia. "For you, Princess Y/N."  "Your majesty" Lando bows as Dalia shoots you a very confused look.  but you respond by pointing to your returned bracelet. "Why are you being weird?" Dalia's confusion annoys you. You were trying to keep this storyline up!

Lando turns and gives you an awkward smile in almost support of what he thought your predicament was. You try again. You point to your bracelet and then to Lando. As if by magic, her eyes light up in realization of what you were attempting to do. "Oh, I'm the princess...Yes" Her recovery isn't the best but it works "And it truly is good to be me with all of my fancy dresses, one for each minute of the day and my giant karts of gold things and palaces." You gesture at her to wrap up her truly painful attempt at a lie. "Now it is time for my cat to be cleaned. She walks away and you can't wait to laugh at her display later.

"She doesn't get out much." Lando just hums in agreement as he places the tea tray down. "Clearly." Your tiger then begins to growl at him. "Aren't you supposed to be in the bath?" Lando shoots you an uneasy look as the cat sniffs his hand. Before you can think on it too much, Dalia's voice is heard once again. "Oh servant girl, this cat isn't going to clean itself." "Don't cats clean themselves?" You turn to Lando, eyes wide "You have to go." "Alright. But I'm coming back tomorrow." You go to protest but he continues. "Meet me in the middle of the tea courtyard by the giant tree when the moon is above the highest branches. To return this." He pulls out your hairclip and he brushes a strand of hair away from your face. "I promise." You see him walk off and can't help but smile at him and his antics.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, a certain second in command to your father was alerted as Lando entered the palace and the guards had finally caught up to Lando. He looks at the head guard as the man gruffly speaks. "Evening." Lando can hear his voice break as he replies. "Even- good evening." He doesn't even need to ask to know that there are more guards behind him and he feels well and truly stuffed.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

I hope you enjoyed this! As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee

[brain-rot-central]

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal, Ch. 3

A/N: Thank you all for your patience. She's finally here.

Word count: 3.5k Rating: M (nothing sexual; mostly topics that may be uncomfortable) Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+; Mentions of murder, violence, death, blood, gore (very minor), blood drinking, sexual acts. Angst, alcohol consumption.

Summary: Tav and Shadowheart finally reunite for a simple lunch date. Their discussion turns toward Astarion, and a particularly unsettling event.

Chapter track: Cry - Cigarettes After Sex

♥ Previous Chapter ♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

Dawn breaks over the horizon. The subtle stirrings of a city coming to life once more fill the streets. Maids and matrons pat down their mats just beyond their front doors. Street vendors begin setting up their carts. A young boy with a satchel carrying copies of the Gazette goes from home to home delivering the day’s latest print.

Tav kneels before her front window, watching the street below. A few days have passed since her meeting with Jaheira. Astarion hasn't been to see her; the longest stretch of time between visits since they began their ordeal. She fully expected a visit last night. However, he never came. She hates admitting it to herself, but she feels a shallow pit in her stomach beginning to form having gone without him for so long.

Standing up, Tav closes the window and brings herself into the washroom to prepare for the day ahead. An old friend has requested a lunch date; she hasn’t seen Shadowheart for many months, and owes her dearest friend an audience.

Tav pours the carafe of water into the wash basin, dipping a cloth into the water before bringing it to her face. Studying the various soaps and creams she has lined along the shelf, she chooses one of nettlebark, smelling of citrus and pine forests. This scent is one of her favorites, and she’s relieved she can still find comfort within the smell. Scents are still a trigger for her nausea at this stage in her pregnancy. The usually tempting smell of breakfast wafting about the air of the city turns her stomach upright, now. Tav has found that if she holds off eating until mid-morning, she's in the clear. 

Yet… odd cravings have begun. 

For instance, she's since gone back to the butcher's, profusely apologetic to poor Gideon. Of course, the kind soul that he is, he was nothing but understanding and even offered her a few rations free of charge. Tav politely declined his offer, yet as she stared into the display cases full of various raw meats, she found herself practically bewitched by the sight. Rich, bloody beef; cut straight from the animal. She recalls how intensely saliva pooled within her mouth staring at the provisions. Tasting the metallic twang of the blood on her tongue, swallowing thickly as Gideon returned with her order.

Patting her face dry with a small towel, Tav returns into the main room and begins rummaging through her dresser for the day's outfit. The midnight blue bottle Jaheira gave her sits atop the dresser. Tav considers the potion every morning, but quickly declines as her heart aches at the thought. 

She believes the weather to be rather warm today, so she settles on an airy, light blue sundress and a wide brimmed hat. The gray scarf she recently bought matches perfectly as she stands before her mirror, assembling the ensemble. 

The ghost of scars catches her eyes as she adjusts the scarf around her neck. They're light enough; most wouldn't notice, though to her, they blare. Permanent gifts from her months-long affair with Astarion during their journey to defeat the Absolute. His bite was always a clean one, never marring her tanned skin. Two faint fang marks are all that remain, Tav taking the index and middle fingers of one hand to press lightly over the imprinted flesh as she lifts her chin.

Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub.

The rhythmic beating of her heart can be felt beneath her fingertips as she pushes slightly into the artery. Accurate, Tav notes, a shiver running down her spine. She makes quick adjustments to the scarf and grabs her hat off the edge of her bed, placing it atop her head. 

Returning to the mirror, Tav smiles approvingly at her reflection as she gives herself a final glance over. The dress is loose enough that it hides the new softness of her body, something she's thankful for. Curiously, she places her hands over her stomach, pushing the fabric of the dress down and under the small swell of her lower abdomen. A pleased laugh escapes her lips while admiring the sight.

Tav turns her body from side to side, tracing the movement with her eyes. Her breasts now fill the top of the garment. The deep plunge of the dress’s neckline displays her new cleavage in a flattering manner. Feeling suddenly bare, Tav unwraps the scarf from around her neck, repositioning it lays across her chest like a bandana. Better. A bit more modest.

The satisfaction doesn’t last very long as she thinks of Shadowheart. How can she tell her? Will she tell her? While Shadowheart has never been anything but supportive, Tav worries how she may respond to news of her pregnancy. Tav is not ready for the backlash and potential lecture her best friend would give her, hearing Shadowheart's scolding voice echo within her mind. 

You cried over him for months! Tav envisions clearly, sour facial expressions and all. How many times did you come to me distraught in the middle of the night? Only to end up like this?

If the conversation doesn’t occur naturally, Tav decides on not discussing it. Not yet.

Swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat, Tav grabs her satchel from behind her main door, throwing it over her shoulder and across her chest. She inspects the contents quickly to ensure everything is present. Slipping her feet into brown sandals, she makes her way down the stairs to face the day ahead.

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

The morning is spent strolling around the park not far from her apartment. Tav recalls an altercation with Bhaal’s followers in this very park so many months ago. Today though, people are enjoying the sun and the company of one another. Lovers lay out on the grass, hands interlaced as they speak freely of their devotion to one another. A book club gathers in the middle of the park to discuss their latest obsession. Tav overhears bits and pieces of mixed conversations, finding comfort in the fact that life is slowly returning to normal for the citizens of Baldur's Gate.

The midmorning quickly slips into afternoon, and Tav begins her trek over toward the Elfsong to meet with Shadowheart. A few people nod in recognition as she passes by. “That's our hero!” they shout. “The savior of the city!” Tav smiles and bows graciously toward them, never quite comfortable with everyone suddenly knowing of her existence. Still, she is thankful for their praise and support.

Upon entering the Elfsong, Tav scans the tavern and quickly finds Shadowheart seated at a booth along the wall. Their eyes meet, Shadowheart waving her over with a warm smile on her face. “There you are!” she exclaims as Tav draws closer. “My goodness, I feel as if it's been ages!” The two women exchange a quick embrace, planting chaste kisses upon eachother's cheek.

“Good to see you again, Shadowheart,” Tav says as she settles into the booth. She removes her hat and scarf, placing both items on the cushion to her left.

Shadowheart soon joins her, taking a sip from her glass of wine. “Shall I ask for another glass?” she proposes, nodding to hers. “We could just order a bottle,” she quickly adds with a smirk.

“Oh, no, I'm quite fine,” Tav declines, a sharp twist in her abdomen forms at the thought. “Truth be told, I haven't had the best stomach, as of late.” Bile begins to rise in the back of her throat as a quick wave of nausea passes over her. She quickly swallows it back down.

Taking another sip from her glass, Shadowheart cocks her head to the side. “Truly? Why haven't you been to see me yet?”

“Not to worry,” waving a hand in reassurance. “I've been to a healer. All is well,” Tav replies with a liar’s smile.

All is not well. None of this is well.

Fortunately, Shadowheart takes the bait and quickly switches subjects. Waiting for service, they begin a pleasant conversation about resettling back into their lives. They speak of their new jobs and all other mundane activities of day-to-day life, sharing a few laughs between remarks as they pursue the menus in front of them.

The waitress takes their orders – Shadowheart keeps it light, ordering salad with grilled chicken; Tav orders a rare steak with potatoes and a side of vegetables. “Rare?” Shadowheart comments as soon as the waitress is out of earshot. “You hate all meat, unless it’s well done.”

She's right. Any hint of pink in Tav’s portion would go right back into the fire. “I-I've been trying new things lately,” Tav explains, rubbing her neck coyly. The cravings only seem to grow as the days pass, and she briefly wonders if it's a consequence of having a half-vampiric pregnancy.

Shadowheart raises a brow again, but fortunately does not pry further. The women then delve into a discussion regarding their old companions as they wait for their meals. Tav talks of her efforts to bolster the city watch with Wyll, now the Duke after his father's unfortunate death. Shadowheart speaks of Gale, who she notes has since opened a school of wizardry back in Waterdeep. Neither has heard much regarding the others, though they agree that they're most likely doing well.

Shadowheart wastes little time once their meals arrive, forking salad into her mouth. “So, have you heard from Astarion at all?” she asks casually after swallowing.

A shudder passes over Tav as she begins slicing into her steak. “No,” she feigns with eyes cast downward, “I-I have not.”

Gesturing toward Tav with her fork as she chews, Shadowheart swallows. “I read something interesting in the Gazette a few days ago,” she suggests.

“About him?” Tav questions, bringing a potato wedge to her mouth.

Shadowheart shakes her head in disapproval around a sip of wine. “Not in particular,” she clarifies. “They don't name him explicitly, though it made me think of him.”

Silence befalls the table as Tav awaits her companion to continue. She doesn't trust her voice enough at this point to offer more to their conversation now that Astarion is the topic at hand. Playing idly with the vegetables on her plate, she chooses a small piece of broccoli to bring up to her mouth. The heavy pull of dread is beginning to creep in, her chest tightening.

“They… mentioned an incident that occurred in the sewers but a tenday ago,” explains Shadowheart, a sour expression befitting her face. “Some sort of deal gone wrong.”

Tav looks up to meet Shadowheart's gaze, puzzled. “How exactly does that involve him?” she inquires.

“Well, that's just the thing,” Shadowheart continues, “those first on the scene mentioned five victims in total, all young males.” She interrupts herself to feed another forkful of salad into her mouth, swallowing before resuming, “They were all reported as being exsanguinated, though only three had their throats slashed.”

Tav swallows hard around another piece of steak, silently savoring the rare flavor washing over her tongue as she focuses her attention on Shadowheart. “And the other two?”

Shadowheart looks sheepishly around the bar, discomfort evident. She dips her head. “Tav, I know of your history with Astarion. I don't wish to speak ill of him out of respect for you.”

Tav's fist tightens around the knife in her left hand. The tightness in her chest has traveled up to her throat. Her heart pounds rapidly as she drinks from the glass of water within her right hand. “What of the others?” Tav insists, placing the glass back down on the table with force.

Eyes falling closed, Shadowheart sighs heavily. “The other two…” she begins, voice trailing off. She pulls in a deep breath. “Well, they're reported as having two pin marks on their necks.” She gestures to Tav's throat with a soft nod of her head. “...Not unlike the scars you bear.”

A prickling heat spreads across Tav’s face. A tenday ago? she speaks within her mind. Rather close to when she'd last seen Astarion. Tav recalls again how miffed he'd been that night; impatient and direct, wasting little time coaxing her down onto the bed.

She pushes around a chunk of potato on her plate, anxiety mounting. “What makes you think it was Astarion? It could have been a kobold, or a spider, or-”

“They were gone the next day,” interrupts Shadowheart, bluntly.

Tav’s heart nearly freezes. She locks eyes with Shadowheart. “Gone? What do you mean gone?” she asks frantically, furrowing her brow.

“Gone,” Shadowheart reiterates, raising the wine glass to her lips again. “When the investigators returned the following day alongside the medical examiner, only the three with the knife wounds remained.” She pulls a long drink from the glass. “The other two were nowhere to be found. As if they'd simply gotten up and walked away.”

Tav shivers, entire body twitching with the thought. “T-that doesn't mean it's Astarion, Shadowheart. It could be-”

“Could be what? Another vampire?” suggests Shadowheart, sarcastically. “I don't think Astarion would take kindly to someone else moving into his territory.” She sighs, clicking her tongue. “I'm sorry to say it, Tav, but it sounds an awful lot like him.”

The sounds of the tavern flood Tav’s ears. Her vision narrows to a single pinpoint, the edges of her vision growing fuzzy. She leans back in her seat and closes her eyes. “We don't know that,” Tav states, trying desperately to calm the wild beating of her heart. “We don't know what happened.” She shakes her head, slowly opening her eyes. “We won't know until the case is settled.”

“Why do you still defend him?” asks Shadowheart bluntly, mouth pulling into a displeased pout. “Surely you remember how badly he hurt you. Why continue to defend him at all?”

The question echoes in her mind. Why does she defend him? The man is a monster; an abomination, as Jaheira had called his child. Tav knows not who he’s become. Small glimpses of the man he once was shine through now and again, mostly when they argue. The stubborn selfishness of him reveals itself, inevitably bleeding into raw passion once she works at him enough. It almost makes her feel at home in his arms, albeit for a few hours.

“He wouldn't, Shadowheart. It's not like him…” Tav says, quietly. She's unsure if she believes it or if she's lying in an effort to convince herself that it's true. She's suddenly lost her appetite, pushing the plate of food away from her.

Shadowheart is quiet for some time, eyes cast down at the table. “Well,” she says, cutting through the silence, “let's hope he's as innocent as you say.”

Silence stretches across the table before the two women agree to shift the conversation elsewhere. They inevitably tie up their gathering, sharing an embrace and chaste kisses to the cheeks once again. They vow to meet the following week, and head out on their way.

Walking back toward her apartment, Tav's stomach begins to sour as she thinks over her conversation with Shadowheart. Vivid images of Astarion sinking his fangs into the necks of the alleged victims flood her mind's eye. She feels a tingling sensation over her own scars as she imagined how they must have felt. Could he have really done such a thing? The sounds of the city are almost absent from her ears as she ponders the question.

“Wait a minute,” she speaks aloud, freezing in place. Her eyes are cast down to the cobblestone street below as her heart fills with horror. Her mouth dries quickly, choking as she tries to breathe.

The last night she'd seen Astarion coincides almost exactly with the timeline of the murders within the sewers. If the report is true, then Astarion's enthusiasm that night wasn't solely due to want, necessarily. Tav dips into a small alley between two buildings, leaning against the brick wall as her knees grow weak.

No, his insistence was not due to missing her. It was attributed to blood-fueled lust, a state Tav has seen him in a number of times. She clasps a hand over her mouth as a sob suddenly racks her chest. Her whole body shakes as the horrific realization sinks deep into her bones. The puzzle aligns near perfectly as the thought continues to blossom.

Astarion had come to her bed after draining two people dry. He didn't spend time on their typical foreplay because he couldn't. Tav knows the power mortal blood has over him, and she doubts the ascension has changed that. She recalls how it all but possesses his thoughts, his feelings, and his body, enslaved by the sheer power of unbridled desire running through him.

Lurching forward, she begins to dry heave; a million thoughts race across her mind. He couldn't have done this on purpose, could he? He wouldn't. There's simply no way he would. Denial clouds her thoughts as saliva drips freely from her open mouth, gathering it together to spit upon the floor. Holding a hand to her stomach she rises, leaning her temple against the cool brick of the wall next to her. She closes her eyes, trying to calm her excitement with slow, deep breaths.

“No innocents; you have my word.”

Astarion's past promise to her rings loudly in her ears. It was from this promise their almost nightly affair to keep him well-fed began. Tav tries desperately to block out the memories of what would transpire after their sessions; how could she have not noticed? All the signs were there.

Because he didn't drink from me.

Her stomach churns again and she rubs her hand in a circular motion above her navel. Her chest burns as she chokes back tears. What to do, now? Does she wait until his next visit to confront him? When will that be? The anticipation will burn a hole through her soul, she knows. But, what other option does she have? 

A small voice wrestles from within as she wipes her mouth with the back of a hand.

…Do I go to him?

The decision is made before the logical side of her mind can argue a rational point, her feet carrying her toward the Crimson Palace. She second guesses the choice; from some place within, a voice yells for her to reconsider. 

He'll tell me the truth, surely, she argues against her doubt. 

Right?

Aware that she's potentially putting herself in a grave position, Tav cannot rest until he tells her otherwise. She needs to hear from Astarion's own mouth that he didn't murder five people only to share her bed mere hours later. She needs to hear from him that he wouldn't do this, that he still abides by his promise to her, that her blood is all he's ever known.

“Why do I care so much?” Tav questions aloud to herself, practically running now toward the monastery. She shakes her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts; he will eventually drink the blood of others. If he is to create an army of spawn as he'd so claimed after the ritual, that would be the only way to do so.

They're no longer lovers; no longer deeply acquainted. They just sleep together, and she fell pregnant as a result. 

Why does she care so much?

Before long, Tav stands before the immaculate palace. Grand mahogany doors stand proudly at the building's entrance, adorned with intricate carvings along the wood. Black metal knockers depicting the faces of gargoyles signal a way in. Tav’s hand reaches instinctively around the bell of one, pulling up.

Before she can complete the knock, the door creaks open. A faint glow from a distant light source cracks through the opening of the door and Tav releases the handle, stepping back. She freezes in place, fully expecting the door to continue opening. Yet, it halts, remaining only slightly ajar. Stale air greets her nostrils and a shiver passes through her.

Silence suddenly engulfs her, the sounds of the city falling dormant. As she surveys the area around her, Tav notes no other presence out on the street for as far as the eye can see. Her ears pick up the soft sound of someone humming, and she determines its origin lies within the palace. 

An assimon carved into the middle of the marble trim along the heavy doors catches her attention as she looks up. Tav turns her head as she studies the figure; a young woman with long hair, eyes closed and wings outstretched as she holds a lance within one hand.

The humming from within the building turns into a tune and cuts through Tav’s daydream. She shakes her head briefly, regrouping. She can turn away now and forget this entire thing. Forget that this was even a thought that crossed her mind, leave, and no one would ever know she was here.

A quick flash of Astarion’s fangs piercing into skin flits across Tav’s vision. She winces. I simply must know, she reassures herself. Drawing in a deep breath, she steps forward.

Resting the flat of her palm against the door, Tav slowly pushes it open. The old metal and wood fuss loudly as the door gives way under the force of her hand. The faint glow of the light from within now pours out, illuminating the street behind her. With some hesitation, Tav steps over the threshold, disappearing into the palace.

[ichorai]

ties that bind ; nanami kento ; march 14th.

pairing ; nanami kento x reader

drabble synopsis ; even the strongest sorcerers need to be saved sometimes.

themes ; fluff, slice of life, established relationship (married), parents au

warnings / includes ; gojo has no sense of boundaries, tiny hint of jealous nanami at the end, and all the jujutsu students are just chilling in this one :) can you tell i'm in desperate need of slice of life content, introduction to the other kids reader has with nanami! yuriko (born 2019), hiro (born 2020), and takara (born 2023)!

series masterlist.

14th march, 2024

With the cold remnants of winter fading into the soft blossoms of springtime, you and Nanami ventured out to the parks with the kids more often. This time, you’d brought the Jujutsu students along to enjoy the day as well—Yuji and Megumi were playing a rather competitive game of catch with a frisbee, Nobara and Maki were off buying ice cream from a cart vendor, and Toge and Yuta were leaned up against Panda, all soaking up the afternoon sun. 

Nanami was by the playground, gently pushing Yuriko and Hiro, five and three respectively, on the low kiddie-swings with a small smile on his face. His lips were moving as he spoke to them, but you couldn’t hear from the bench you were sitting a few feet away. You were rocking a stroller, carrying your youngest daughter, Takara. Her soft hair, a shade somewhere between you and Nanami’s own heads, was pulled into a tufty bun, which threatened to come loose with the position she’d fallen asleep in.

Gojo had also invited himself to the excursion, currently sprawled out in the space beside you, having his third—or was it his fourth? You couldn’t quite remember—brightly-colored popsicle. The two of you had exchanged quite a few pleasantries, but mostly it was just him chatting away about his students and the missions they often frequented. 

“I still don’t really understand,” you said, which made his head turn your way. “I can’t believe you actually teach these kids how to survive by dropping them in dangerous situations like that.”

The thought of your own children going on to learn in such a way made a shiver run down your back. Nanami would also surely pop a blood vessel if he thought about it for too long.

“They wouldn’t die,” Gojo responded easily. “Not on my watch, at least. I can save anyone. Anyone who wants to be saved, anyway.”

There was a distant tone to his words, but he was wearing a wide smile as he regarded you through his blindfolds. 

“Hm…”

“Don’t be worried about them,” he reassured you. “Trust me, showing them the real world is the best way for them to learn.”

“I know,” you said, voice small. Your eyes darted to Yuji, who had leapt an incredible distance up in the air to snatch the frisbee Megumi had tossed. “I just worry for all of them so much. It’s like they’re all my kids too now, you know?”

Gojo licked a long stripe up his melting popsicle, humming. “They’re stronger than you think. Besides, they’ll always have each other.”

Your next words made Gojo freeze in place, tongue still stuck out flat over the popsicle.

“If you save everyone, who saves you?”

Gingerly, Gojo pulled away from the popsicle. He laughed then, but it was slight and hardly genuine.

“I don’t need to be saved,” replied the white-haired man. “I’m the strongest.”

That elicited a soft snort of amusement from you. You weren’t looking at him anymore—instead, facing your husband at the playground, who had taken to helping Hiro and Yuriko onto a see-saw. A fond smile graced the corner of your lips. 

“Everyone needs to be saved at some point, Satoru. All we have is each other, in the end.”

There was a long silence as Gojo thoughtfully slurped up what was left on the popsicle stick. He was already itching for another.

He reached out to pinch at your cheek, ignoring your noise of surprise. “You’re so cute, you know. I’m so glad Nanami married you.” His words were high-pitched and crooned right into your ear.

“Ack—Gojo, stop!” You were laughing, nose wrinkled as you swatted at his hand.

Gojo had to pull away eventually, because he could feel your husband’s exasperated glare fall onto him. A second longer, and he figured Nanami would’ve pulled out that blunt blade of his.

[writingoddess1125]

You Remind Me

Shanks and Vivican OOC and Luffy

Support me on Ko-Fi

Also obviously not Canon but fun to think about!

No Warnings

Shanks stood in the hallway as he leaned next to Vivian's bedroom- it had been only a week since she had moved in with him on the ship. She had been polite but very quiet, meeting all of the crew however she had spent most of the time in her bedroom hiding. At night Shanks knew she was crying- he left like a worthless father truly... taking a breath he worked up some courage.

"Hey Vivian?..." He said softly and knocked on the door gently, waiting for a second before opening the door and looking inside. Seeing Vivian sitting on the bed reading through one of her mother's book clearly in a daze it seemed. His movement snapping her from her thoughts as she gaze a light lipped smile at him.

"Hey Vi- Uh we are heading to shore soon to meet up with someone I'd really like you to meet" He asked, She nodded softly at this and set the book aside. Shanks sighed at this and walked over taking a seat next to her on the bed, shifting a bit as he turned to look at hia daughter.

"I know this has been tough for you Vivian and I'm sorry... I-I want to make this a gold envirment for you but I understand if you want to be alone for a while.. but just know I'm here for you whenever you need it" He said softly, watching how Vivians eyes began to water as he said this, she nodded as tears rolled down her cheeks. He wrapped his arm around her as she leaned into him and silently cried.

"I'm sorry my dear..." He whispered, knowing that there were no words to bring you back to them but he would make sure your legacy lived on happily.

A few hours later the crew landed on the small island and started to dispurse to either the pub or getting supplies for the Ship. Vi being quiet the whole time as she followed Shanks out to the markets so she could pick things she liked and he giving her some Berries to spend for herself.

Walking off to a food cart she decided to get some meat on the done for herself and smiled as the vendor handed her the large treat.

"Good choice that's my favorite!" A cheerful voice sounded next to her, looking up to see a lengthy teen holding 3 in his own hands. She giggled since he looked so odd to her paired with the Strawhat on his dark locs.

"It's my favorite too, But I couldn't eat three of them" She said with a cheerful smile as she pointed to the ones in his hand. He laughed at this clearly amused by her words- However he paused and cooked his head to the side.

The teen squinted at her in confusion stared at Vivian, kneeling down and squinting his eyes as he stared at the little girl- Who looked at him in confusion and a bit intimidated by the stranger now way too close and stating at her funny.

"You remind me of someone-" He hummed squinting his gaze further. Tapping his chin as he stared hard at Vivian who was looking at the weird teen in question.

Shanks turned the corner trying to see where his daughter had wondered off to- Before he smiled brightly at the sight before him.

"Do my eye deceive me! Luffy!" Shanks laughed as he pushed the hat onto the teens head further with a laugh, Luffy looking up at Shanks with a wide smile.

"Shanks!" He yelled out with a laugh, Hugging his mentor who stumbled back and patted his back calmly.

"Luffy! Look at you" He said with a proud laugh as Luffy pulled back with a happy grin, Vivian staring at the duo with a raised eyebrow.

"This here is my daughter Luffy. Vivian this is Luffy! He's essentyally like your older brother" He said with a wide smile proudly showing off Vivian who shyly smiled and waved at Luffy.

"It's nice to meet ya Vivian!!" He said cheerfully ruffling her red locs which made her giggle.

"You know you're set up to see such amazing adventures Vivian with one of the best crews out there! Just wait- Shanks has had crazy adventures hell I've fought Fishpeople in a amusement park, Saved villages, Beat marine bases and met with pirates that are things of legend. Youre adventures are just starting" Luffy said with a grin, clearly good with kids and making them smile.

"Wait you really did that?" She said amazed, smiling as Luffy who nodded.

"Of course! I'm going to be King of the Pirates!" He said cheerfully which made her eyes widen at that. Shanks chuckled at this and placed a hand on Vi's head gently.

"Pretty amazing right?" He said with a chuckle as she nodded enthusiastically, Shanks noticing how much more cheerful she was while talking to Luffy.

After some talk between them all and Luffy updating Shanks proudly on his life the Older pirate felt the need for a beer starting to peek. Patting Luffy on the shoulder proudly.

"Im proud of the man youve grown into Luffy, We will need to depart and we are going to go to the market to finish getting supplies" Shanks said calmly, Vivian pulling on his sleeve nervously.

"Uh Dad? Can I hang out with Luffy today? I wanna hear more about his adventures!" She said cheerfully with a new sparkle in her eye.

Shanks had seen that sparkle before- That wash of inspiration that had bloomed in his eyes, in Luffy's eyes and now his Daughters.

Truthfully he didn't know if he should be proud or really frightened at how interested she was in being a pirate now.

"Well alright I suppose, Just remember we are heading out tommorow morning Vi" He said with a smile, She nodded excitedly at this and went with Luffy who had already started to talk her ear off and the two ran off. Shanks standing there with a small smile on his face, and a but of worry to his heart.

Vivian spent the whole day talking with Luffy's crew, Meeting every single one of them and exploring the ship. A bright smile on her lips that reminded him of you, the way she giggled and her growing excitement at every turn.

Luffy took on a older brother roll, even picking her up and running around with her like the ADHD kid he was as- entrusting her to even wear his straw hat which she wore with pride and care as they roamed around all day.

After Sanji had cooked a large seafood pasta dish for the crew and guest she ended up falling asleep soundly. Luffy carrying Vivian out back to Shanks ship who was holding his crew getting the last of the supplies they would need. Chuckling at the sight of Luffy carrying his daughter wearing his old hat.

"Looks like quite the adventure" Shanks said amused, Luffy giggling as he carefully took his hat off Vivian who didn't even stir from her sleep and transferring her to Shanks.

"Yeah, We had a lot of fun today! Honestly she is a natural. Took up to navigation with Nami and all of that" Luffy said with a laugh clearly prideful in having spent the day with Vivian. Shanks smiled at this as he told Luffy to hang back while he put Vivian to bed.

When Shanks returned from tucking Vivian in bed he went back to meet Luffy, seeing the young man leaned against the railings staring out fondly.

"Shes going to be great, I can already see it" Luffy said with a chuckle, messing with the ties of the hat calmly as he thought fondly- Shanks chuckling at this and nodded in agreement.

"I can see it, you really inspired her Luffy and brought her some happiness" He praised, earning a big goofy smile from him.

"You know when I become Pirate King, I did swear to return the hat to you. But who knows! Maybe it will go to the next red head" Luffy said with a joking laugh, Shanks rolling his eyes as he shoved the hat further down on the lads head making him laugh again.

"Maybe it will, Maybe it will.."

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

☠️ Something Dread, Something Red: Chapter Two

Something Dread, Something Red: Stuck in a proposal to a Marine Commodore, you escape minutes before your wedding in one last ditch effort to avoid getting married to a tyrant. Barely making it to the port of your town, you stumble across a ship just starting to leave and beg for passage off the island. You fail to notice that the people you beg for help, are pirates.

Warnings: Wounds, Blood.

To Note: “Red Haired” Shanks x FemReader

Word Count: ~2.8k

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Loose curls of lavender hung around your face while you crouched behind a bush in the sprawling grounds of the Bonn Manor. Your scalp ached terribly, irritated from the way you had ripped your heavy and extravagant veil from your head, and your forearms stung from the way you clawed yourself free from the hawthorn tree you’d jumped into to escape your balcony. You had no idea if anyone had noticed your absence from your room, but you were treating your situation as if they already knew you’d fled.

Each and every move you made to escape the manor grounds had to be calculated and exact. Any mistake would result in something far worse than death. As impulsive as this escape was, you had plenty of prior attempts to learn from your past mistakes. Naiveté had you running straight for the front gates every time, and right into the very people you’d been trying to escape from. You hadn’t learned then, but you knew better now.

There was a hidden side entrance used by the staff and vendors. Mother had never liked to see them coming and going, so they had a separate entrance. It wasn’t something you’d been schooled on or even told, but after watching and observing, you’d eventually figured out that they had to enter and leave somewhere. That somewhere was where you were headed.

You were fairly sure it was in a thick and dense part of the eastern grounds, one that was not nearly as meticulously maintained. No one would expect you to suddenly change your fleeing methods, certainly dressed like this. Escaping in your wedding dress was not just difficult, it was nearly impossible! The lace kept getting snagged on branches and bushes, and the built in petticoat made the skirt wide.

Tearing your sleeve away from a branch that had caught the delicate lace, you clutched your arms to your chest and moved forwards again. Bunching the skirt of your dress in your hands, your feet flew over smooth cobbles in hurried steps. With the coming and goings of merchant carts, surely there was someway you could sneak into one and hitch a ride into town. There would be no way you could outrun your mother’s men or the marines on foot.

Deciding to follow the path you were on, you sprinted as fast as you could in your dress and focused on your struggled breathing. It’d never been this hard to breathe before, but you’d also never felt such compounding fear and adrenaline within your body before. Pausing in place as your lungs burned viciously, you pressed your hand against your chest. You wanted to take a break, you needed one! But you didn’t have the time.

“Keep going,” You told yourself. “Just— Just keep going.” Sinking your hand into the bark of the chestnut tree, you pushed away from it and continued moving. The path that cut through the woods wound back towards the manor, but rather than risking being seen, you took a short cut through the dense forest. The fallen chestnuts hurt to stepped on and you had to bite your lip to stop from crying out every time you stepped on one. Swerving around a tree trunk you skidded to a stop and threw yourself backwards at seeing a pair of manservants carrying some crates.

Landing on your back, you slapped your hands over your mouth the moment you felt a searing sharp pain erupt in your shoulder. Something had dug into your skin, sharp and with a hot flash that left you wanting to howl. You swallowed what would have been a devastatingly high pitched scream and felt the release of tears in the corner of your eyes. Masculine voices came and passed, and with clenched teeth you rolled onto your side before awkwardly getting to your feet. While you pulled yourself together, from behind you came the ringing of the bell.

“Oh gods,” You whimpered to yourself, your mother would be on a war path now. A newfound tremble ran through your body, your entire body shaking as you hurried on. Your feet were happy the moment they returned to cobbles, and with a bit of timing and a great amount of luck, you managed to squirrel yourself away in a cart full of old drapes your mother had replaced in anticipation for the wedding. Your wedding dress actually helped you blend right in. With some of the drapery covering your face and hair, you held your breath and waited to either be discovered or overlooked. It really couldn’t be this easy to slip from the manor, could it?

Apparently it was, because not two minutes passed before the cart was harnessed to a pair of horses and started moving. The road was bumpy, and your corset repeatedly pressed into place that already hurt and were sore, but you forced yourself to remain quiet and just listen. Your mother had made a deal with the merchant who stitched her drapes, offering the luxurious fabric back in addition to the Berry it cost for the new ones. So it was safe to say that you were headed for the drapery shop.

Slumping back into the piled drapes, you had time to think about what you were going next. You had a very slim chance of getting off the Bonn manor lands you hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking what you would do afterwards. Kuri Island is an island. You had nowhere to run on solid ground. The best option you had to leave would be passage off Kuri Island, however that may come. Begging most likely. Ships in the harbor usually departed the harbor based on the tide, which was soon.

The problem was that the marines in the town were most likely notified of your fleeing and would be on the lookout for you. You couldn’t be caught, not now. Get to the harbor. Get passage off Kuri Island before you got caught. Beg if you have to. Your heart wasn’t trying to beat out of your chest anymore, but it was still fast from the adrenaline running through your veins. Holding your hands against your chest, you listened to the increase in sounds as the cart drew closer and closer to the village.

You had never heard sounds this beautiful, of chattering people, laughing children, the ocean so loud. It was all so carefree, a large jump from the ridged and structured life you grew up knowing and living. No matter how brief this breath of fresh air was, you were addicted and never wanted to live a single hour trapped like how you’d grown up.

With determination filling you, you dragged the drape you used to cover your self off your body and rolled. Leg’s tangling in the skirts of your partially ripped dress, you fell off the end of the cart and hit the ground hard with an undignified grunt. For several moments you lay on the cobbled street, moaning as hard wire dug into your ribs. Shifting on your side, you propped yourself up with your forearm and pushed some fallen hair out of your eyes.

You had landed in some back alley street, houses and little shops dotting the sides. It was nothing special, no crystal embedded fixtures, no silk or satin fabrics hanging in windows, just simple wood and stone. Your eyes shifted as something caught your attention, and you found yourself staring into the eyes of a young girl whose mouth was dropped open.

“You wouldn’t happen to know what direction the harbor is, do you?” You asked, hauling your aching body to your feet and brushing out the skirt of your dress. She pointed in the direction and you gave her a brief curtsey before darting off in that direction. The warm cobbles beneath your feet did very little to ease the sting in your feet, but a certain comfort bloomed in your chest just from being in the town. Freedom was such a beautiful thing, wasn’t it! Following the direction you’d been pointed, you found yourself on the crest of a hill and was given the perfect view of the harbor, ships and all.

The harbor wasn’t big, but it certainly bustled with early morning activity as ships took advantage of the outgoing tide. Exports of chestnut goods and lace were the most populous of goods loaded onto the ships, but you also knew that other local crafts were added to the count of exports on Kuri Island. There were a few other ships you saw, not bearing the usual merchant vessel markings, dotting the harbor. Surely one of them would agree to give you passage. Your hand went to the necklace hanging for your neck. It wasn’t an antique, but it was expensive and valuable. Surely you’d be able to trade it for passage away from Kuri Island.

Grabbing onto the skirts of your dress, you hauled the heavy material up and ran forwards, hope fueling your heart rather than fear. Running by the little shops and houses, you couldn’t help but look at everything and nothing at once. Houses that weren’t immaculate in every detail, but clearly lived in, mini gardens with blooming flowers that were clearly well loved, even the stoops and cobbles were swept and clean! These people clearly just lived, rather than put on a perfect production day after day. You wanted to live this spontaneity every moment you had free.

Slowing down so you didn’t trip over your own feet, you peered down a fork in the road wondering which path to take. For all you knew, one curved off and lead away from the harbor, and the other provided more choices you’d have to consider. A shout came from behind you and a lightning bolt of fear renewed the petrifying fear that had gripped you so tight only ten minutes earlier. Glancing behind you, your eyes were met with the sight of marines pointing at you.

A strangled noise of panic caught in your throat and you made a split decision to head right, hoping that you hadn’t picked the wrong road. This road wasn’t as nice as the ones you had previous been traveling down, but it was still clean. Just darker. Like echoing your situation, the road twisted and turned with uncertainty, leading you along as continued shouts from behind fueled your legs. You had more to swerve around on this road, boxes, stacked crates, jugs… narrowly saving yourself from crashing into a cart half on the curb, you let out a cry of frustration     when the skirt of your dress caught on a rusted knob.

Whipping around, you harshly yanked on the delicate fabric of your dress to free yourself. How could it be so delicate yet hold you captive with such determination!? The marines were closing in on you now, and that made you tug harder. They were shouting at you to stop, to come with them, to stay put. But you couldn’t, not when you had finally breathed a breathe of air that was your own. To hell with them. Snatching a piece of wood from the cart, you threw it at the marines. It smacked one right in the chest and the marine’s arms cartwheeled, knocking into the other beside him. Feeling your dress finally give beneath the rusted knob holding you in place, you turned and continued to run, being more mindful of where your dress flowed.

Blasted thing!

This was the last time you were ever going to wear such an ostentatious gown. Period. You just had to get away of course. That fueled your body with energy once more despite the harsh burning in your chest and the legs beneath you that felt like they were turning into the dessert jelly your mother occasionally consumed. Stumbling out of the alley, you grappled onto the nearby building to stop yourself from all but collapsing. Glancing behind you, you didn’t see any of the marines on your trail. Better find a ship with a crew before they found you again.

Pushing away from the building, you stumbled forwards and with wild eyes looked to the remaining ships harbored. You saw several ships bearing the flag of the Bonn Chestnut Trade Company, and decided against taking the risk of boarding one. There was a pretty good chance that the ship would just turn around and deliver your right into the strict and very livid arms of your mother. So your feet scampered across the wood while your eyes strained to see who owned the next ship. So many Bonn Chestnut Trade Company vessels. Further panic broiled within your veins and your fingers clenched the skirts of your dress harder.

“Come on, come on, come on,” You whimpered, frustrated by the lack of ships not affiliated with your family. Did the Bonn’s own the entire quadrant of sea!? Passing a few more trade ships, your hopes were raised for but a few brief moments when you saw ships not affiliated with your family. But no one was around the docks and some ships were already departing!

 Dodging a stack of crates, you grimaced as your stinging feet came into contact with the salt water that splashed onto the docks from the ocean. But that water wasn’t only causing you pain, it also soaked into the skirt and train of your dress, weighing it down and oppressing you with more weight to carry in your escape. Ship after ship, you grew more and more fearful that you wouldn’t be able to find one that could give you safe passage. With your hope beginning to dwindle, you scurried around the curve in the dock where the dock master resided and came to a stop.

Not that far away was a large ship with men carrying crates and other wrapped goods onto the deck. It was the only ship you could see not affiliated with your family and clearly they were about to head out to sea. Eyes frantically searching for wherever was in charge, they landed on a red haired man that appeared to be directing the men on where the goods were to be placed. So you rushed up to him in complete and utter desperation, not caring how unladylike you appeared.

“You are leaving Kuri Island?” You questioned with straightforwardness. The man blinked at you in surprise , as you had appeared out of nowhere, and your outfit… clearly you were a bride. A very beautiful and elegant one at that. Should you not be at your wedding rather than at the dirty docks?

“Yes, we are leaving momentarily, madam,” Shanks supplied to you, wondering what you wanted.

“Take me with you,” You demanded outright, not bothering with any further pleasantries or niceties. “Please, I can pay with this,” Your fingers went to the necklace hanging around your throat. “I just need to leave this island immediately.”

The others on Shank’s crew had momentarily stopped resupplying the ship, watching the events unfolding between you and their captan. Shanks shook his head at you, knowing the seas and his ship were no place for a lady such as you.

“My lady, the seas are much too rough for the likes of you and we are no marines,” He didn’t miss the way you flinched at the mention of the marines, but carried on. “It’s too dangerous and given your attire, I think you are missing your wedding.” Shanks eyes glossed over the ripped delicate lace, you had made a get effort to get here. “It would be best if you returned to your family and talk things out with them before making a rash decision like this.”

“This has nothing to do with rashness!” You argued back with fire. “I need to leave now! Please!! If I don’t—” Something caught your eyes over the red haired mans shoulder and you froze, your entire body filing with renewed fear as you whimpered. Oh gods, he came after you! Thomas Collins had left the alter to chase after his fleeing bride, flanked by a multitude of white coated marines. A squeal of fear emerged from your throat and raw terror bloomed in your eyes. Shanks saw it all, the tremors in your body, terror in your eyes. Something scared you senseless. A quick glance over his shoulder rendered a better understanding. A livid marine dressed in his whites, most likely the groom you’d left at the alter. He made a decision in that moment.

Bending down slightly, Shanks dipped his remaining arm around your impossibly thin waist and hefted you up onto his shoulder. Letting out a gasp, your fingers dug into the slightly coarse material of his back while you were carried off. Was he actually helping you!? Perhaps he was! Lifting your head up, you saw Thomas shouting at his men while his eyes trained on you.

“Men!” Shanks called, effortlessly carrying you over his shoulder. “Change of plans, it appears we are bride-napping this morning! Pull the anchor and set the sails!”

Date Published: 11/16/23

Last Edit: 11/16/23

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[sinisterexaggerator]

I'll Put It On Your Tab

Wrecker x Gen! Reader

Warnings: Threats made with a blaster. Violence. Attempted robbery. A broken bone or two. Fluff, and a kiss. "Established" relationship vibes.

962 words

Notes: I decided to write a series of "goodbye" ficlets where the reader takes / removes something from each of CF99 as they part ways, however this one deviated a little bit from that path. In this case, the story is left open-ended.

For you, @allsystemsblue. I know you love Wreck. :D

Crosshair || Echo || Hunter || Tech

---

“I don’t want any trouble,” you pleaded, hands held high above your shoulders with arms bent at the elbows. The masked man before you held his blaster level with your abdomen, making a motion for you to fill his sack with all your credits.

“Everything,” he growled. “Put it in the bag.”

Trembling, you rushed to comply, your hard-earned money being forfeit to this brute who was sure to kill you if you did not obey his brusque command.

Your business was Mantell Mix in Ord Mantell City; you barely made ends meet as a simple street vendor. You had a few faithful customers, some more so than others, but otherwise you lived day-to-day off cartons sold. He was sure to clean you out; you would have to eat your product or starve until tomorrow, though the alternative was death.

You supposed you might just count your blessings and be thankful should he keep his word and spare you.

“Hurry up!” he barked; you jumped despite yourself, dropping your remaining profits on the ground for them to scatter at his feet. You gasped, afraid for any repercussions, immediately falling to your knees before him to quickly gather what you could to placate the increasingly impatient man.

“Karkin’ imbecile!” he hissed, pushing you backward by the heel of his boot. You fell onto your rump, staring up with horrified, wide eyes as he took aim at the space between them, tears threatening to fall as your heart crashed wildly behind your ribs.

“I’m sorry—” you began, tilting your head farther, fear expelled to be replaced with elation as your knight in not-so-shining armor loomed above your attacker, massive arms folded across the broad expanse of his chest.

“Is this guy bothering you?” Wrecker asked, almost comically so. He could not help himself, loving to make an entrance, no matter how dire the situation, it seemed.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, scurrying back on the palms of your hands before you attempted to stand. In that same moment, the perp and his half-filled sack of money swung around, Wrecker squeezing the barrel of his blaster so tightly, that he crushed it under the pressure of his fist.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size,” the clone demanded beneath his bucket, though this man was nowhere near the height of your darling hero. You watched with bated breath, your would-be robber struggling in vain within his grasp, his mutilated weapon tumbling awkwardly from his grip.

The sack of money had been abandoned, your assailant of the mind he would need both hands to ward off this towering giant who had made it his job to protect you. Though you thought to retrieve what was yours, you did not move a single muscle, watching the scene unfold as you silently thanked your lucky stars.

“Piss off!” the thug seethed, a flurry of motions catching your attention; something glinted in the streetlight above your humble cart.

“Wrecker!” you cried out, a hidden blade unsheathed. He appreciated your warning, but it was not necessary.

A twist and then a crack. The knife was just as easily discarded. The man screamed, though his cry of pain was momentary. Wrecker’s plastoid helmet had met with his skull, knocking him flat in the dirt with a resounding thud.

As soon as he was down for the count, you endeavored to wrap yourself around him; you hugged your rescuer as tightly as you could, though your arms would not even begin to enclose the entirety of his waist.

“Thank you,” you breathed, gazing up. Wrecker chortled nervously, rubbing the back of his head absentmindedly, even though his gear was in the way.

“Aww, it wasn’t nothing.” He shyly brushed away your gratitude. Wrecker always felt that way with you – shy -  though he was not sure what it meant.

You reached; you wanted to see his handsome face. He was beautiful to you, regardless of his many scars.

Wrecker obliged, craning his neck so that you might remove his helmet and set it off to the side. He smiled down at you, a twinkle sparkling in the umber depths of his good eye.

For a moment, he seemed proud. “I sure showed him!” he announced happily.

“You did,” you assured him kindly, unable to help yourself as you traced the raised lines spidering across his skin. You repaid his smile with one of your own, turning to rummage through your cart.

“I have something for you,” you said, withdrawing a fresh carton of his favorite treat. You took a piece between your fingers and offered it to him. He hesitated, finally bending down to gingerly take the small kernel between his teeth.

“Mmm,” he hummed, politely chewing with his mouth closed.  You offered another, this time replacing it with a press of your lips to his when he least expected.

Wrecker’s eyes rounded to saucers before he gradually relaxed, the surprisingly gentle man taking up either side of your face in the curves of his palms. His fingers came to rest just beneath your ears, the rebel clone using this opportunity to draw you in.

“This is better than Mantell Mix,” he mumbled against you; you tried to suppress a laugh, having meant to deepen your connection.

Instead, you grinned, opening eyes that had been shut so that you could lovingly regard him. You returned your hand to his face, cradling his jaw. “I owe you my life,” you whispered.

You thought you saw a hint of a blush as he stumbled to reply. "Uhhh- I'll settle for that," he bashfully requested.

You could barely contain your glee as you rose up on your tiptoes to kiss him one more time. "I'll put it on your tab,” you quipped playfully.

[pra370r1an]

Eda, waving a giant foam finger: Wow, these seats are Primo! I could really go for some Apple Blood.

Raine: Eda, this is the preliminary hearing for the new government of the Boiling Isles.

Appleblood vendor, pushing his cart down the row: Appleblood! get your appleblood here!

Eda: WHOO!

later,

Luz: They were an inspiration! They helped us in our time of need! And I won't rest until all of the Boiling Isles knows of the sacrifice King's dad did to save us!

Eda: And I won't rest until I get myself some appleblood!

Raine: Eda! This is a cemetery!

Appleblood vendor, pushing his cart past tombstones: Appleblood! get your appleblood here!

Eda: WHOOO!

Raine: What do you do? Follow my wife around?

Appleblood vendor, handing a bottle to Eda: Mx. She's putting my kids through college.

[tigoonacom]

Empowering Women Street Vendors: Catalyzing Change in India.

In the bustling streets of India's urban landscapes, street vendors form a vibrant and essential part of the socio-economic fabric. Among these resilient individuals, women street vendors stand out for their remarkable ability to balance multiple responsibilities while contributing significantly to their families and local communities. Yet, they confront distinctive challenges that hinder their growth and economic empowerment. This blog delves into the array of solutions designed to provide support and empowerment to women street vendors in India, especially during times of adversity such as the COVID-19 pandemic.

Supporting Street Vendors Across India:

Often referred to as push cart vendors, these street vendors bridge the gap between local producers and consumers, offering an eclectic array of products ranging from fresh produce to handcrafted goods. Recognizing their pivotal role, various initiatives have been launched to extend a helping hand to street vendors throughout India.

The challenges faced by street vendors were significantly amplified during the COVID-19 pandemic. The imposition of lockdowns and restrictions led to a drastic reduction in foot traffic, severely impacting their income. In response, governmental bodies and non-governmental organizations collaboratively devised relief measures, extending financial aid and essential sustenance to help street vendors endure the turbulent times.

2. Empowerment Strategies for Women Street Vendors:

Women street vendors navigate an even more intricate labyrinth, grappling with societal norms, safety concerns, and limited access to resources. To foster their empowerment, a multi-pronged approach is necessary, one that aptly addresses their distinctive needs and barriers.

Equipping women street vendors with tailored skill development and training programs emerges as a potent solution. By honing their business acumen, financial literacy, and marketing prowess, women vendors can bolster their capacity to manage and expand their enterprises, effectively competing in the market.

Creating an enabling environment for women street vendors involves establishing dedicated vending zones that prioritize their safety and well-being. These zones, thoughtfully equipped with adequate lighting, sanitation amenities, and security provisions, address pivotal safety concerns and encourage active participation among women vendors.

3. Unleashing Technology's Potential:

In an era increasingly defined by digital prowess, technology emerges as a formidable ally for women street vendors. Leveraging digital platforms and mobile applications enables these vendors to not only showcase their products online but also tap into a broader customer base, cultivating a virtual presence even amid the challenges presented by the COVID-19 pandemic.

Moreover, technology extends its hand towards financial inclusion. Granting women street vendors access to digital payment systems and microloans not only empowers them economically but also curtails their reliance on cash transactions, fortifying their financial resilience.

4. Raising Awareness and Advocacy:

Shining a spotlight on the invaluable contributions of women street vendors is pivotal to galvanizing public support and recognition. Strategic advocacy campaigns shine a light on the challenges these vendors surmount, underscoring the significance of fostering an ecosystem conducive to their growth.

Engagement with local authorities and stakeholders emerges as a potent strategy to shape policies and regulations that nurture the expansion of women street vendors' enterprises. By involving women street vendors in decision-making processes, their voices gain prominence, and their concerns find effective redressal.

Women street vendors in India epitomize resilience and determination, serving as linchpins for their families and local economies. Elevating their stature demands a comprehensive approach that encompasses skill development, resource accessibility, technology integration, and fervent advocacy. By translating these solutions into action and fostering a nurturing environment, we can uplift women street vendors, laying the foundation for their economic ascendancy and profound social inclusion. As the journey continues amidst challenges like the ongoing pandemic, these solutions stand as guiding lights, steering the prosperity and well-being of women street vendors across India.

[thissidekhushi]

Tigoona is a design-led initiative to help improve the quality of life and earning potential of street entrepreneurs and refresh last-mile connectivity by giving better mobility, better visibility & better retailing standards. Tigoona is a Solution to women street vendors.

[dearharriet]

could I request the tangled prompt for george, please? 😚

and congratulations on 150!!! 🎉

here u are lovely, thank you sm!! (wc: 870)

George is not used to this whole heart in his chest thing, and it’s really dragging down his name as an enemy of the crown.

I mean, sure, that’s not something he can just put away—and the palace guards certainly won’t—but he almost wishes he could. Which is stupid, obviously George loves being a criminal—who doesn’t?

But the thing is, you’re kind of more than he’d been expecting. George thought you were naive, and jumpier than a field mouse, and you are, but you’re also kind when you want to be, and similarly cutthroat when necessary. You’re not half bad.

Like now, in the square, you’re helping an older group of women with their knitting patterns. George had ordered you to lay low, but he realizes now how foolish that is. It doesn’t matter how low you lay, everyone would be looking at you anyways. You’re just magnetic that way.

Leaving the chittering group, you pass over the wide open square, eyes on a shady alcove at the other end. George ducks further into the overhang, skirting around columns to meet you there.

Even if you’re not seeking him out, he’s glad you’re getting some shade. The mid-year sun is penetrating every thick stone building in the kingdom, and turning the ground into a coal walk for your bare feet.

And anyways, when the sun and you meet head-on, it’s a spectacle that’s hard to look at.

Rounding the corner, George stops short, realizing you’re not as alone as he thought.

You’re crouched, hair fanning over your shoulders, speaking with a small boy who looks very unfortunate. There’s dirt covering his face, and his feet are similar to yours in that they’re unprotected. He can’t be more than ten, but instead of playing in the sun like most children, he’s slumped against the wall, looking tired.

George’s newfound heart thumps a little, shocking his system. He steps forward, but then you’re standing, pulling the boy up with you.

Weaving through carts and wagons, you lead the boy into the center of the square, and then skitter away to a quartet of musicians.

The little boy looks like he’s treading open water, spinning in the wake of your attention. When you come back, you take his shaking hands into yours as a song begins to play.

Then you’re dancing.

With the height difference it’s nothing more than a flailing spin, but with every rotation both your face and the boy’s light with joy.

Two couples join in, and George ventures out of his hiding spot to get a better view. As he passes vendors and shoppers, he notices them uprooting themselves, pushing toward you the way he is.

Many of them join, and when George is on the bank of the whirling circle of townspeople he can’t see you anymore. The dance has quickly evolved into a more complex braid of partners, one that everyone but him seems to understand.

A part of him worries that you were taken, but a flash of gold cuts through the mesh of feet, and his shoulders settle.

The partners change fast, so one second your elbows are linked with an older man, and the next you’re swinging into a young girl. It goes this way down the chain, changing all at once like a flower that blooms new every minute, and you keep your eyes on George the whole time.

When you reach him, you stick one hand out and yank him into the fray.

George stumbles and then catches himself on a stranger who kindly guides him into the proper spin. Luckily, he’d been watching long enough to know when to switch, pinging from one partner to the next as bystanders clap to the beat.

When he’s rounded the full circle, the music changes, and everyone finds a new direction.

Though he probably wouldn’t admit it out loud, George understands why you and the boy had looked so happy. As he swings through smithys and students and artists, touching each hand briefly in this hurdling dance, he’s undeniably alive.

He thought that stealing the crown was the fastest his heart would ever beat, but he might have been wrong. Running away was easy, but coming back? Near impossible.

Without him even realizing, George is finally dancing with you. It felt like every time he’d completed the circle and come to you, the music had changed and you’d miss each other.

But now, you’re under his hands, and when the music changes, you tighten yours around his. The chain breaks, and no one seems to mind. George suspects it was all your making anyways, so this time is no different.

Around and around you spin under the summer sun, and George tugs you closer, his feet doing the work for both of you. He doesn’t have to think, he just turns and turns and lifts you, revels in your delighted laugh. He shocks himself with his returning laugh—not snide nor attractive, but truly overjoyed.

When you land on your feet, the music comes to an end, and George and you are still laughing. Both of your chests meet with each huff, swelling with air and pride.

George knows it’s not about the crown anymore.

+

thank you for reading xx

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[acourtofpenandpaper]

Just pretending (Astarion x reader)

Pairing: Astarion x GNreader/Tav Length: 800 words Part 2 coming soon

Blurb: When Astarion and Tav get followed by guards of a warehouse they wanted to steal from, Astarion comes up with an unusual way to get them off the back.

Tags: part 1 of a fluffy short, a bit heated moment

The guards weren’t far behind us, and we both quickened our steps. Earlier that day, when I had voiced my concerns on sneaking into the warehouse to steal some supplies and cool gear, Astarion had simply shrugged me off.

“Don’t be such a scaredy-cat, we have pulled off greater heists in the past”, he had boasted while dismissing my worries as mere pessimistic thoughts.

Now, as I caught a glimpse to my side, I could see the sweat glistening on the forehead of the pale vampire as we rushed through the streets of Baldur’s Gate.

Turned out, that said warehouse which, according to Astarion ‘wasn’t guarded heavily’, was indeed heavily guarded. And the plan that Astarion had come up with turned out to have no solution for when we got caught. I reminded myself to never let him plan anything ever again when we both got out of this situation.

I looked behind my back to see two guards running after us, catching up with every second. The only reason they hadn’t caught us yet was because of other civilians standing in their way. But any minute now, we wouldn’t be so lucky anymore. I was starting to feel exhaustion coming in and tried to use the little breath in my lungs to shout towards Astarion:

“What are we going to do? They are still after us!”

Astarion looked behind his back as well and almost ran over the cart of a street vendor but in the last moment, jumped out of the way. He stayed silent, to my dismay because we both needed to get out of this situation and better two minutes ago than later.

I was almost ready to surrender myself to our followers and give over the gear when Astarion’s eyes lit up, he got ahold of my wrist and pulled me into the next alleyway. We took two sharp turns to the right and from the signs around us, I recognized the tavern, we semi-regularly frequented with our friends.

Two steps in front of me, Astarion slowly came to a halt, panting, his chest rising and falling. I almost ran into him because I wasn’t expecting to stop so suddenly, so I caught my breath and asked:

“Why are we stopping? They will come around the corner any seco…”

But before I was able to finish my sentence, Astarion had pushed me against the wall of the tavern and stepped so close to me that his whole body hovered over mine. Then he looked me in the eyes and mouthed:

“Play along.”

“Play along with what?”

Then, without giving me time to process my thoughts, he embraced my face with both his hands and came so close that our noses brushed against each other. I could feel his heavy breath against my lips and was sure that he could feel mine, too. But I just stayed like that, his mouth hovering just millimeters over mine and us both watching each other.

“Let your hands roam over my back.” He didn’t say it out loud, but I could hear his thoughts over our connected tadpoles. Without giving it much thought, I moved my hands from my sides to his back and gripped the fabric of his shirt.

Then, he angled his head and brought it up to my neck, as if he would caress it with his mouth or, drink from it from the look of a bystander. All this without his lips ever touching my skin but his breath burned itself onto my neck and I wished he would really touch me.

My eyes were still wide open, and I couldn’t quite believe what was happening. But in the corner of my vision, I could make out two silhouettes which were looking into every street but eventually, ran past the alleyway we were standing in. Now I understood what he meant by playing along. When I was sure that they had run off, I finally murmured:

“Hmmm…Astarion? They are gone…we can stop pretending.”

“Oh, yeah right”, he said and stepped away from me. “Sorry, that must have been surprising, but I had this idea suddenly and just wanted to get them off our heels. Are you alright?”

His eyes scanned me up and down. I nodded and we continued our way to the camp just outside the city.

“I am okay. Thank God you had this idea, I don’t know if I could’ve run anymore.”

“Same here. Maybe we should better scout the areas we want to get into next time”, he suggested, and I burst into a fit of laughing and playfully pushed him against his shoulder.

“That coming from you? Mr. Wing it? I told you we should investigate the guarding system of the warehouse, but you were all like ‘It will be fine”, I said and tried to mimic his voice.

He scrunched up his nose. “I totally don’t sound like that.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Not discussing this with you”, he said, and we both continued our way.

And I wondered what his lips would have felt like if he had really kissed me…

[bettyfrommars]

S3, %, 🧡

MegmegmegMEGGGGG niche nightmarescape just for you my love

Your Person is Nightmare Steve

Your Place is a Drive-In Theater

Your Thing is a Halloween Mask

pick your poison

18+ONLY, gore, nightmares, blood, terror, star-crossed lovers, gender neutral reader but the pronouns she/her are mentioned in song lyrics. These blurbs are rattled out quickly from head to throttle, so I hope there aren't too many errors.

word count: 747

He was working as a hotdog vendor when he spotted you that night. Steve pushed the paper devil mask up into his thick mess of hair to get a better look, palming a Wonder bread bun with a messy squirt of mustard.

His mask attached to a modest string, tied in a bow at the back of his head, but yours was latex, a white skull with a ghoul nose and several blacked-out teeth.

Everyone had to wear a mask that night, those were the unspoken rules. Others were coming out of the corn fields in groups, filtering in to find a vacant vehicle to claim. You followed the crowd as if you knew what you were doing, shuffling along under a night sky that burned several shades of twilight blue.

There were green witches and zombies, black cats with yellow eyes, and evil clows with big hair and tiny hats. One had the head of a bird, a raven maybe, and it occurred to you that perhaps that was their real head, though it didn't seem polite to ask.

The one in the devil mask behind the food cart held a limp hotdog on a fork up in the air as if to offer it to you, dripping water, but you just kept walking, pretending not to notice him out of the corner of your vision.

The golden oldie Runaway by Del Shannon crackled out of the speakers, and once it ended, it started all over again. The scattered automobiles might've also been the sight of a junkyard, the way they were all rusted and riddled with bullet holes. Much of the interior was ripped or gutted, the grass dusted with shards of broken glass that nestled there like glitter or fallen stars.

There was condensation inside the confines of your disguise, and you peeled up the bottom to sneak a quick breath. The theater screen loomed blank in the sky, backed by endless, creeping night.

"It's almost time," the devil said. He was in front of you, blocking the aisle toward the screen. He pushed the mask up into his hair so that you could see his face.

"Time for what?" Your heart stuttered at the familiar chocolate suede of his eyes.

He leaned in, whispering. "Time to get out of here, if you know what I mean."

You didn't, but okay.

He turned to lead the way and you followed, up the hay loft ladder to the roof of the projection house. Runaway was on another cycle as Steve took your hand to help you along the ledge, gesturing for you to sit.

A countdown flickered on the screen, but the music was till blaring.

tears are fallin' and I feel the pain

wishin' you were here by me

to end this misery

"I hope you enjoy the show," his voice was different, deeper. Steve squeezed your hand, and you craned your neck to peer down through the eye holes to see the end product of his fingers intertwined with yours.

Once golden skin was now the color of red poppies, you followed the arm up to broad, bare shoulders, a sharp jawline, and two horns that were thick enough to belong to a bull.

A confident smile slashed his mouth to show pointed teeth, and the whites of his eyes were black as coal.

He was no longer wearing a mask. He was the devil.

I wonder

I wo-wo-wo-wo wonder

why why-why-why-why-why

she ran away...

The countdown on the screen ended and was replaced by the flickering scene of a row of cloaked figures in a green pasture with hoods pulled down to hide their faces. If they even had faces.

They stood eerily still for a long while, looming over the gathered patrons in their junkyard vehicles.

But then they were moving, down to the edge of the frame and into the crowd like melting shadows.

People were being dragged from their cars; people were screaming.

People were getting their souls sucked from their meat suits, crumbling to the ground with Jello limbs.

The two of you tilted your heads at the same time to watch blood splatter the now empty pasture scene on the screen.

And I wonder

where she will stay

my little runaway

I run-run-run-run runaway

"Have you thought about where you want to go next?" The devil asked.

You sighed, thinking. More shrieks from down below, more chaos erupting.

"I've always wanted to see Paris."