#THANK YOU FOR REACHING OUT TO YELL ABOUT THE SILLY PIRATE SHOW

[anetesenpai]

HELLO. THAT ONE COMIC YOU MADE. OF ZOSAN (KINDA) WHERE ZORO IS GOOD AT MATHS. YOU SEE MY VISION.

You see my vision

I SURE DO here have some of the rest of the crew reacting to math genius, spatially challenged Zoro

Original post

[witch-hazels-musings]

i dunno if requests are still open but if they are, could i request this? if not, feel free to delete! but in case they are open here's the request: jean, beidou, and ganyu reacting to accidentally hurting their s/o? it could be anything from simple slap in the face while turning around or hurting them with their vision/weapon :]

Accidents 

(ouchie -- having them accidentally hurt the reader T.T -- they didn��t mean too!) 

Warning -> SFW, accidental injury (Character -> Reader)(face injury (Jean)), (meantions of cuts to face / arms (Ganyu)), (hit by rope (Beidou))

Character X GN Reader | Anthology 

Includes: Beidou, Jean, Ganyu 

Beidou

She takes pride in keeping everyone on her crew safe, no matter the danger - on sea or land, she will fight and guard each person in her charge -- you are no exception and in fact, you are probably the one she fights the hardest for. The thought of seeing you hurt doesn’t sit well with her and, if she can control it, she’d never let it happen 

How could she have known that she’d be the one to cause you discomfort -- that she’d end up allowing you to get hurt because she let something slip through her fingers … pride was a strong emotion, but guilt could send a pirate to the bottom of the ocean 

The weather had made a sudden turn for the worst. Dark clouds rolled overhead as the crew furled the sales to protect them from the downpour that was bound to arrive any second now. 

“Captain!” Beidou’s attention shifted to the crow's nest, her scout pointing violently toward a massive cumulus cloud in the distance. She knew it was bound to smash right them if they maintained this heading, so in an effort to avoid it, she ran toward the bow barking orders. 

“Tack to starboard! Finnick,” She turned to point at the several crew waiting on the foredeck, “raise the spinnaker, now.” They quickly bustled to their jobs while she found herself at the head of the boat. Her arms crossed as she oversaw the work of her crew; great pride swelling in her chest to see how organized they were even without her voice like a well-oiled machine everyone did their part.

As the creaking boat turned, heading parallel now to the storm, Beidou hoped that it would stay on its heading so the Crux wouldn’t have to bear the brunt of its onslaught. It was now a waiting game, but if she knew anything about the ocean - it would be a win for her today. 

Just then, a rope tying one of the many large sails snapped. Its reaction was like a domino effect and soon all hands were rushing to stop a potentially catastrophic outcome. Leaping over the railing, she landed hard onto the deck below, her feet finding solid ground long enough for her to push forward and, before the other crew had a chance to react, she was already climbing the mainmast as if it were a simple tree. It took her no time at all to reach the issue but the strong winds continued to whip around the ropes below her and by the time she managed to capture them - her eyes fell onto your frame. 

In terrible slow motion, she watched as you reached for the rope only to have it collide into your chest and knock you back into another crew member. Her heart sank, her arms burned, her determination steadfast as she made quick work of the problem before dropping back down to you. 

“Are you alright?” Someone called, their hands reaching to you as if to offer some assistance but Beidou knocked them away. Orders were told, tasks were assigned, and before you could object, she carried you into her quarters. 

When the door closed and she sat you on her bed, you could already tell how upset she was. “Beidou -- it was an accident, I didn’t have good footing and …” She uncrossed your arms, you didn’t even realize that you were holding onto your chest. Carefully peeling back your tunic, she noticed the welt that was starting to grow in the area below your collarbone. With a huff, she walked away before returning with a cloth. “You’re being silly, it’s not that ba-AD!” You shouted, the cold material shocking you as it came into contact with your burning injury. 

“This could have been much worse. You’re lucky it only bruised the surface.” Sitting next to you, she rested her knee near your lower back, and the warmth of her leg as she moved close to you somehow offset the ice on your chest. 

“I’m just upset I didn’t grab it, it was right there and then … ah - that’s sore.” She tested your shoulder, pushing against it with her palm and shaking her head at the notion that you were going to have a painful recovery. 

“You are a member of this crew and I have sworn an oath to protect you, but …” Her head dropped and she found it hard to continue. 'How could I let this happen' was written all over her expression. 

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault. You’re an excellent captain.” 

“A captain keeps her ship on course, its belly full, and its crew happy. How can I do that when my happiness is your wellbeing?” Her fingers ran over your ear, slipping in between the locks of your hair as if to show you how much she cherished you. Carefully, she leaned toward you, her lips connecting softly onto your shoulder as they trailed a path to your injury and even in the numbness of it you were still able to feel the heat from her love. “If you are ever out of your depth, allow me to be your lifeline.” 

“Of course, as long as you trust me to know when I'm there.” 

“Within reason.” As the boat rocked on the sea and the sky rumbled far into the distance, you captured the steady heart of the captain.  

Jean 

Jean would never intentionally harm you, the thought of putting someone innocent in danger makes her sick - as the acting Grandmaster she has a sworn duty to protect everyone around her from those who would do them harm 

So when she's the one who caused your injury, she's beside herself with regret 

She stood in her office, her back to the door as she let her mind wander on all the things that needed to be done. It was never-ending, and while she was always fulfilled by the products of her work, she often pushed herself so far that her body and mind became clouded. 

Today was one of those days. The work, planning, problem-solving was weighing on her. There is never enough time, she thought to herself as she rested her head in her hand and squeezed tighter around her rib cage. She was distracted, so exhausted that her ears felt blocked, her body swayed even though she knew she wasn't moving, and her head throbbed. 

"Jean ..." What needed to be done first, she pinched her nose and through harder. "Jean?" She sighed and attempted to stop the voices in her head. 

"Jean, hey?" A hand touched her arm and in her daze, she turned suddenly. Her hand was further from her face than she expected and with a solid smack, she hit something. 

"Ah!" Your startled voice shook her back to understanding, your expression and hand now covering your face sent her heart in the pit of her stomach. 

"Y/N? I'm so sorry ..." She rested her hand on your arm and shakily reached for your face, her fingers tenderly touching the ones that hid you from her pained eyes. "I didn't -- are you badly hurt?" 

"Ouch, you got me really good." You explained, scrunching and circling your nose but allowing her to take your hand. 

"My mind was elsewhere, I am ... I'm sorry." She ran her hands over your face, the warm feeling of wind slipping from her fingers and soon your expression eased. 

"Thanks, It was an accident, don't worry." 

"An accident like this should have never occurred, it is unbecoming of me to allow myself to falter." She stepped away from you, afraid that any prolonged contact would make it worse.

"Jean, you're allowed to make mistakes, and look - I'm fine, see." You grinned proudly but she couldn't let it go. 

"I need to make amends." 

"Mmm, well then, I have an idea." 

"What is it?" She looked at you hopeful, her eyes watching you as you stepped closer. 

"I'll take a kiss as an apology." You tapped the side of your cheek and presented it to her. 

With hesitating hands, she rested her fingers on the other side of your cheek and let her lips touch the skin she hurt, "I will be more observant in the future." 

You turned your head, your face so close you could feel her breath, "I don't see how that's possible, but if it means I get to have more of your attention, I'll be okay with that." 

You kissed her and wondered if she was able to heal through her lips. 

Ganyu 

The absolute sweetest soul in all of Teyvat. She cares deeply for all things, works hard to get the job done, and is dedicated in her actions - it's one reason why her contract with Rex Lapis was drafted; she is the epitome of ____ 

She would never maliciously hurt those around her and often puts herself in harm's way to keep others safe

To her, causing harm to someone she adores, loves, cherishes would be as severe as breaking her contract 

The two of you ran through the field, your legs burning as you dashed across the landscape and away from your persistent pursuers. 

"Ganyu! Up ahead!" You shouted, pointing to the higher ground and dashing in that direction. She followed, keeping an eye out on the enemies behind. To buy some time, she laid down her tantalizing cryo flower before picking up her pace to reach you. 

"From here we can handle them more easily, just be ready." She nodded her head and pulled back her bow, ready to strike. 

The fight was far more doable in this arena, each enemy falling one after another as the two of you fought in perfect sync. Charging her shot, she saw the ideal opportunity to hit multiple targets at once, but as soon as her arrow flew so did you. 

"Y/N!" She shouted but you were too far away and, as soon as you reached them, prepping your sword for a swing, the arrow exploded hitting everything in its path. You yelled, sliding on the ground only to slam hard into the dusty surface. In an instant, everything that Ganyu was, and wasn't, aiming for fell. 

Rushing forward, she reached you and quickly assessed your condition. Her hands hovering, her eyes scanning only to find the damage she had caused. Several small cuts appeared on your face, your arms were equally damaged and the despair that filled her was so great she prostrated herself before you. Her head resting on your hips as she bowed deeply. 

"Ga-Ganyu? What are you doing?" You asked, setting your sword to the side as you looked down at her. 

"I hurt you, please forgive me." You tried to pull her up but she shook her head and dug in deeper into her display. 

"It was an accident, I wasn't looking and that was a good shot. I'm not hurt." 

"You are!" She shot up, her eyes looking at the marks that she had created on your skin. "It was my fault that you have -- if-if they leave a scar ... I ..." She shook her head, unable to finish her thought. 

"Ganyu ... they won't leave a scar, and even if they did, don't you think I'd look super cool?" You smiled but she hated it. 

"It's not acceptable ... if you'd like to d-dismantle our contract, I understa-" 

You wrapped your arms around her, squeezing tightly as you spoke. "I don't want that, I'd never want that. I need you, please don't ever think I'd be okay if you weren't at my side." After a moment, she returned the gesture and you felt the pressure of her nose dig into your neck. When she finally pulled away, you let your hands slide down her arms and rest into her delicate hands.

"I'll just have to practice harder." She nodded fiercely as she helped you stand up. 

"If you insist." You laughed, thinking to yourself when she would ever find the time to do that. 

--

tag list:

@clemmywrites @sufzku @plenilunegazes @lucacandy @marianadibenea @nonniechan @jaemjenjam @softlybeloved @excitedlysuffering

[pirate-au]

A Pirate's Life for a Prince (Part 1)

Summary: Roman was a dashing Captain, content with his exciting life out at sea, diving head first into adventure both on and off land. He wouldn't give up his life for anything, and yet he found himself...lacking something. He was never sure what.

When he meets Virgil, a seemingly common traveler in an old tavern, that lacking feeling in his chest goes away for the first time in a long while. So surely there's no harm in offering the stranger and his friend a ride, right?

Notes: @cheshirevalentine is the reason this au exists, they've done so much to help me create this story and so many others. I owe them so much, thank you for being my muse and letting me ramble constantly <3

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

The Captain swiveled around as soon as the first punch was thrown, watching from his seat at the bar as one of his crew and a drunk local quarreled on the other side of the tavern.

Roman glanced at Logan seated beside him, chuckling quietly at the look on his first mate’s face as the pair watched the drunken fight.

“I could break it up, you know,” Roman boasted, making a face as he took a swig of the drink he would never admit he loathed the taste of. It fit his image- the image of the daring pirate Captain that Roman had read stories of long before he’d gotten his own ship- so Roman kept the drink in his hand and forced down another mouthful. “It’d be easy. Easier than walking.”

“You will do no such thing,” Logan said, and Roman knew his friend would much rather be back aboard the ship, safe and warm with a good book. “Sit still and at least try to pretend you enjoy the taste of alcohol.”

Sit still? Roman had never sat still in his life, Logan should know better than to feed him such blasphemy. He let go of the retort on the tip of his tongue in favor of taking another uncomfortable sip of his drink, trying and failing to hide the way his face screwed up in disgust at the abhorrent taste.

Logan watched him, amused, before draining the rest of his glass with ease. Roman resisted the urge to gag. The price of having a reputation as a fearsome captain was, apparently, drinking incredibly shitty alcohol to look cool and tough. The life was exciting, and the bounty was worth the price. But by God, the drink was foul.

Logan rolled his eyes, swapping their glasses. “You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s for the image, Logan. You wouldn’t understand.” Roman retorted, though he didn’t protest the swap. He wasn’t going to finish it anyways.

Logan didn’t respond, just flashed his captain another deadpan look to which Roman responded with a bright grin before turning his attention back to the fight at the other side of the bar.

They were both clearly very drunk, swaying on their feet, their punches wide and sloppy, so Roman wasn’t particularly worried about anyone causing any serious damage.

Roman didn’t even particularly like taverns, and he knew for a fact Logan only came along to make sure he didn’t get himself into trouble, but bars like this were the best place to sit back and observe the most interesting people.

After weeks at sea in cramped quarters with the same faces, Roman couldn’t think of a better way to spend the night before they left again the next morning.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love his ship. He did! He wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world. He was the dashing and daring Captain Roman, fearlessly exploring the seas with a wonderful crew and his best friend right at his side.

And yet it never felt… complete. Something was wrong. Missing. It was never quite right, as perfect as it was, but for the life of him he could never voice exactly what was wrong.

A bell rang, barely audible above the commotion, and Roman tore his attention away from the fight to watch the newcomers open the door

Two strangers stepped inside, wrapped in dark cloaks that looked like they cost as much as Roman’s whole ship. They both looked a good two heads shorter than him or Logan, and judging by their clothes, a tavern like this was not the kind of place they frequented.

One of them had their hood draped over their head to conceal their face, the other holding the tavern door open and ushering their friend inside.

A disgruntled yell from the other side of the bar turned Roman’s attention back to the drunken fight, and he saw Logan give the newcomers a brief once-over himself.

Roman watched as the fight gradually slowed down, his crewman clearly a little less adept at handling his alcohol, eventually ending up sprawled out on the floor with a broken nose and split lip. Pity, he thought he taught his men how to hold their own in a fight.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Roman’s attention, and he watched curiously as a man from the other end of the bar got up from his stool and sauntered over to the table where the two cloaked strangers had settled down.

He was tall, about Roman’s height, smirking dangerously with a drink in one hand, the sword tucked into its sheath just barely visible underneath his coat.

He finished his drink as he made it to the table, his eyes on the hooded stranger. Roman could just barely make out what was being said from the bar.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he purred, leaning forward with his free hand resting on the table. “You new here or something?”

The stranger didn’t respond, and while Roman couldn’t see their face from where he was seated, he could see his companion visibly tense, reaching over to touch his arm.

“Yes, I’m talkin’ to you,” the man continued, his smirk growing as he looked the stranger over. “Prettiest thing in town, why wouldn’t I be talkin’ to ya?”

The stranger lifted his head, just enough for Roman to catch a glimpse of a pale face and dark hair, before looking back down at their lap. “I...uh. Thank you?”

“So you’re new here, then?” the man asked again. “You seem so nervous. Let me buy you a drink, it’ll mellow ya out.”

Both cloaked strangers tensed, and Roman’s wariness grew along with theirs. He knew that look, knew that tone of voice, knew exactly the intentions a man like that had.

“No thank you,” the hooded one said, barely audible, his friend’s hand still on his arm. “Sorry, I’m… not interested.”

“You don’t have to be so shy.” The man tilted his head as he leaned in closer, and Roman found himself already getting up from his stool. “Come on, handsome. Let me buy you a drink, it’ll loosen you up. I promise.”

Roman started forward, ready to remind this asshole that no meant no, only to stop with a hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him to a stop.

“Roman.” Logan already looked exhausted, and Roman hadn’t even done anything yet. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Roman grinned, pulling his arm away with a wink he knew would only annoy his first mate further. “Saving a damsel in distress, of course.”

“But we agreed to avoid any confrontation—”

Roman waved him off and made his way across the bar, all his attention back to the man who still hadn’t left the table alone.

“I said no thank you,” the stranger said, and his voice made it clear he was trembling. “I don’t want a drink.”

“Oh, come on. I—”

“Pardon me,” Roman interjected, sweeping the man’s hand out from under him on the table. “I believe he said no. If you would be so kind as to leave now, that would be wonderful.”

The man gave him a disgruntled look, to which Roman responded with an even smile. “Piss off, prissy. No one asked you, he’s just being coy.”

“He said no.”

The man shoved Roman’s shoulder, scowling when he refused to stumble back. “And I said piss off.”

Roman could almost picture Logan’s eye roll as he squared his shoulders and shoved back, admittedly with a bit more force than necessary. He thought briefly back to what Logan always said, about how his Captain never backed down. And about how it was going to get them all killed one day.

And yet here his first mate was, standing at his elbow, stiff and unmoving as Roman stared his opponent down.

He was a bit bigger than Roman, the alcohol in his system clearly making him a bit unpredictable, scowling at Logan before narrowing his eyes at Roman, who simply smiled again, a cold warning.

“You need to learn the difference between coy and not interested, scoundrel. Leave him alone or I’ll be forced to remove you from the area.”

It was all a show, hopefully enough to get this drunk asshole to see reason and back off before someone got hurt.

But if a fight was what he wanted, then a fight was what he would get. Roman wasn’t one to chicken out of a confrontation, as much as Logan would like him to, from something silly like a little fear. Fear was a secondary emotion! It didn’t rule him.

Besides, he had someone to protect this time. And with Logan at his side, he was unstoppable.

Logan was going to kill him, of course, but that was a problem for later.

The man scoffed and set his empty glass on the table, looking back at the hooded stranger with another smirk. “Give me a second to handle this, alright? We’ll talk after.”

He winked, before winding back and swinging, his fist connecting right with Roman’s jaw. The Captain jerked backwards, stumbling slightly before he threw himself forward, tackling the man to the floor.

The tavern erupted into chaos, drunk bystanders cheering and shouting as the fight became the center of attention. Roman thought he saw someone start towards them, probably one of this asshole’s friends, only to smile when Logan immediately intercepted.

No matter how tired Logan pretended to be of Roman jumping head first into danger, he knew his friend would always be right there with him.

He wrestled with his assailant, blocking a punch to the face and grabbing the man’s arm, pinning it firmly to the ground. The surrounding bystanders continued to cheer as Roman got the upperhand, suspecting that his opponent being a little drunk helped the Captain overpower him.

Roman managed his way on top of the man, straddling him and pulling his gun from his belt. He cocked the weapon and put it to the forehead of the assailant, watching with a satisfied smile as he froze.

“If you dare come near this young man again, I’ll make sure I have a bullet saved just for you. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

The man glared, scowling as he looked away from Roman’s cold stare. “Crystal.”

“Good.” Roman stood, wiping the blood from his nose and rubbing his jaw, his pistol trained on the man as he struggled to sit up. “Up now, I’d like to see you and your wounded pride leave my tavern.”

He struggled to his feet and spat blood at the floor, glaring daggers at Roman as he limped towards the exit, the crowd parting.

As soon as the tavern door slammed shut, Roman turned to Logan and the young man he’d saved with a smug smile, twirling the pistol on his finger.

“It’s not even loaded,” he stage-whispered, turning back to Logan with a playful pout when the stranger’s eyes widened. “What? Not even a ‘good job?’ Anything?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, ever unamused. “You were reckless.”

“You have no appreciation for your Captain, Logan,” Roman said. “Truly. My splendor would be a waste if I had not been saving a pretty man.”

The resident “damsel in distress” was watching Roman with wide eyes, turning only when his friend took his arm again, leaning in close to whisper, “Can we go now?”

Roman realized he hadn’t even bothered to check in, too busy flaunting his victory to his first mate. He turned back to the table and forcibly relaxed his shoulders, hoping to come across as non-threatening as possible.

“I’m sorry about all that,” he said, cocky smiling softening to something more gentle. “Are you two alright? No bumps or anything?”

Roman had meant to address both of them, it was the polite thing to do after all, but he found himself meeting the wary eyes of the stranger with the hood. His chest felt light, his smile easy and a little excited, ignoring the way Logan was probably motioning for them to leave as quickly as possible.

“I’m fine,” the stranger said, still visibly nervous. He was much smaller than Roman, and definitely the most cleaned up person in the bar. “We’re… both fine. We’re ok. Uh, thank you for… that. Thank you.”

The Captain pressed his sleeve to his still slowly trickling nose bleed, quickly wiping away what he could. “I loathe to say it, but that sort of thing happens in bars like this all the time. Are you two not from around here? Travelers, maybe?”

“I… uh, yes. I’m- we’re travelers. We’re just passing through. You’re… uh, you’re bleeding. A little bit.”

Roman broke his now probably uncomfortable eye contact to glance down at his sleeve, blood splattered on his wrist and knuckles. “It appears I am. A small price to pay, I suppose.”

Logan was suddenly beside him again, and he beamed when his first mate handed him a neatly folded handkerchief. He always seemed to have something on him to clean up cuts and scrapes since his Captain always seemed to get into fights.

He took the cloth and pressed it to the blood flow, turning back to the table with another sweet smile. He should politely excuse himself instead of making conversation but… well, he wanted to keep talking to the cute stranger he’d saved.

“Where are you two heading, if you don’t mind me asking?”

The stranger blinked, glancing briefly at his friend before answering. “Uh, we’re not… really sure yet. We just wanted to see the city, you know?”

“Sightseeing?” Roman echoed, brightening. “Oh, this city is so beautiful, especially at night! Perhaps Logan and I could accompany you before we set off for Deigh in the morning?”

“That’s… really nice of you to offer,” the stranger said, eyes bright. “But I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, of course! Where are my manners?” Roman smiled warmly, extending a hand to shake. “Roman. It’s a pleasure to meet you…?”

The stranger accepted the offered hand, his touch a little cold and timid. “Virgil.”

“Virgil,” Roman repeated, smiling brightening as he took Virgil’s hand and gently raised it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “A beautiful name. How about that trip around the city, Virgil?”

Virgil’s face went red, much to Roman’s delight, and he gave a small nod. “I’d like that, Roman. If you have the time.”

He was sure his own face was flushed similarly, even as he unfortunately had to let go of Virgil’s hand. “For you, darling? I have all the time in the world.”

He led Virgil outside, watching as he sent his friend a reassuring smile before exiting the tavern, Logan following close behind.

“Any requests before we head off?”

“Wherever you want to go,” Virgil said, hesitating outside the tavern doors. “You’re the expert, right?”

Roman offered Virgil his elbow, like a gentleman should, his smile widening and Virgil accepted the gesture. "Well lucky for you two, you're partying with the best."

He’s full of shit. He doesn’t know this city, he’s not from here. He’s only been here a day and a half.

It was fine, he’d figure it out despite having absolutely no idea where he was going. It didn’t matter anyway, because Virgil smiled at him as the Captain led the small group down the street, and Roman’s heart had never felt so full.

“I’m not exactly the best navigator,” Roman admitted. “But I’m sure the city can’t be that difficult to walk around.”

All he could do was hope Logan would know the layout of the city and jump in to help. Roman didn’t know where they were or how to get anywhere.

His first mate never did offer any assistance, and Roman suspected it was some kind of petty revenge for starting a bar fight. Logan and Virgil’s friend (whose name Roman soon learned was Patton) fell a few paces behind to talk, leaving Roman to guide Virgil around the city, improvising a lavish tour.

He was fairly certain Virgil could tell everything Roman was saying about the city was absolute bullshit, and that he had absolutely no idea where they were, but he seemed to enjoy the show the Captain was putting on.

Virgil was laughing and smiling, genuinely lighting up with each joke and story Roman told, eyes widening whenever Roman would mention his adventures out at sea.

By far, this was the best time Roman had had on land in a long while. Virgil was a little jittery, sure, but he was slowly relaxing, his smile never faltering. Roman adored being able to make someone smile like this.

But, of course, all good things must come to an end. Eventually, the moon high in the late night sky, Roman led the group right back to where they’d started, his heart aching as he slowed them to a stop outside the tavern.

“It really was wonderful to meet you, Virgil,” Roman said, his playful smile softening. “Thank you for allowing Logan and I to accompany you around the city.”

Virgil hesitated, fiddling with the cloak around his shoulders. He glanced at Patton- who had been giving Roman a harsh side glare nearly the entire tour- before turning back to the Captain, visibly nervous.

“Where did you say you were heading?”

Roman smiled again, ridiculously relieved Virgil wasn’t jumping at the opportunity to get away from the Captain. Roman knew he was charming, sure, but people often found him a bit...obnoxious. It had been a while since someone besides Logan had really enjoyed his company.

“My crew and I set off for Deigh first thing tomorrow morning,” Roman said. “It’s a ways away, so I thought it was best to give them a day to rest before we head off.” It was starting to feel more like polite small talk now, but he’d take whatever would let him talk to Virgil for just a little longer. “And you? Any idea where you plan to go after this?”

Virgil met his eyes, and Roman left breathless at the beautiful brown and gray. He seemed to steel himself before answering. “I was…actually thinking of visiting Deigh. Is there any way you could give us a ride? I’d pay you, of course. I have the money.”

Roman brightened, his face splitting into a grin, but Patton spoke up before the Captain could answer.

“Well, hold on now kiddo. I thought—”

“It’s a far journey, you know,” Roman interrupted, too excited to let him finish. “And we aren’t exactly a passenger ship. But I’m sure we could work something out for you!”

He glanced over his shoulder at Logan, his first mate staring with a displeased frown. This was a terrible idea, of course. Pirates don’t take passengers. They’re pirates!

But not only was he offering to pay, he was also incredibly cute and sweet and funny and he made Roman’s heart do somersaults. And he made that quiet, sick sort of feeling of missing something go away. So really, it was an all-around win.

“That's really kind of you,” Virgil said, soft and just as excited as Roman. “Are you sure it’s okay? I know it’s last second and everything.”

“It’ll be fine,” Roman assured. Oh, Logan was going to murder him. Logan was going to smother him in his sleep tonight. Which would be easy, considering they’d be rooming together. Not that Logan knew that yet. “I assume you’ve been on a ship before. You’re not going to freak out two days in because you can’t see land, are you?”

“Of course I have!” Virgil matched Roman’s excited grin as he rushed to his own defense. “I’ll be fine.”

“Perfect!” Roman stepped back, sending the small group a dazzling smile. “We’ll get you to Deigh, traveler. I’m sure the crew will love you.” He turned towards the direction he and Logan had come from, the docks just a short walk from the tavern. “Shall we be off, then?”

He glanced between the two travelers, determined to avoid Logan’s stare. Virgil glanced at Patton, his friend shifting on his feet a bit, fiddling with the sleeves of the sweater he wore under his cloak, just barely visible through the dark cloth.

“Patton?” Virgil asked, turning away from Roman for a moment. “You’re… good with this?”

Patton startled, quickly plastering on a bright smile. “I’m good to go kiddo, don’t look at me. Where you go, I go. I’m just… a little worried, is all. I know how you get… seasick.”

They seemed to be having a silent conversation in their stares, entirely separate from what Roman and Logan were hearing, and the Captain quickly averted his gaze, watching his boots as he waited.

“Right,” Virgil said, quiet and hesitant. “I’ll be fine, but I- I know you don’t love… boats. And you really like this city.”

Patton laughed, the sound weak and full of deflated cheer. “I like you more than I like the city, Virgil. And it’s another adventure! Where you go, I’m going too. Always.”

Roman remembered having a similar conversation with Logan more than once, and his smile had turned soft and almost wistful by the time Virgil turned back to him, his own excitement rapidly returning.

“Okay,” he said. “I think we’re ready, if you’re sure there’s room for us.”

“There’s plenty of room! Come on, I’ll lead the way.”

Roman started down the street, fairly certain he knew where he was going, forcing himself to slow his excited pace when he realized no one else was able to keep up with it.

Apparently, he did not know the way as well as he thought he did. It became clear he’d gotten them lost when they passed the same building twice, and Logan took the lead with a quiet sigh, bringing the group to the docks.

Roman’s excitement only grew the closer they got, practically jogging by the time the water came into view, the temptation to bound up the gangplank and reunite with his beloved ship nearly overtaking him.

Flooded with adoration as they approached, Roman turned to face the group with his arms swept out, motioning towards his ship.

“There she is!” he announced. “The Calypso, in all of her splendor! Isn’t she gorgeous?”

She was, of course, but he felt a swell of pride in his chest when he took in Virgil’s wide eyed, almost starstruck stare.

“She is,” Virgil said, sounding a bit breathless. “Wow.”

The Calypso had been his home for many years, sanctuary from the wind and rain, from the waves and the land, every moment on her deck an adventure waiting to happen. Roman occasionally felt the pang of homesickness in his gut, but he’d been content for a long time.

He beamed at Virgil and Patton, still carefully avoiding looking at Logan, who was being oddly quiet. “I’ll show you two to your room and let you get settled.”

He offered Virgil a hand, and the other young man didn’t hesitate this time before taking it. Roman felt like Virgil’s hand belonged here, entangled in his own.

He led the four of them onto the ship, careful to make sure Virgil kept his balance when he first stepped on board, easily falling into stories of his adventures, eagerly telling his guests about the exciting life of a pirate- and probably overselling it. Just a bit.

Roman brought them below deck, stopping in front of the door to the Captain’s quarters, realizing he really should have at least mentioned this part of his last minute plan to his first mate.

“And, uh… this is your room,” Roman told their guests, motioning at his own door. “Logan and I will be right across the hall.”

He could practically feel Logan staring at him, just inches away where he stood quietly. His first mate was going to flay him alive for this.

Well, they’d talk about it later. In detail, seeing as how they’d be sharing a room for the foreseeable future.

Virgil reluctantly let go of Roman’s hand, seeming to pick up on the unspoken tension. “Thank you, but Patton and I can really stay anywhere if this is inconvenient. I know this is all spur of the moment.”

“Not at all,” Logan spoke up, to Roman’s surprise. “It makes more sense for you to be comfortable than staying with the rest of the crew.”

“A room change won’t kill us,” Roman added, grateful Logan was at least pretending not to be furious in front of Virgil. “And spur of the moment is my specialty, I can assure you.”

Virgil still hesitated, clearly worried and a little overwhelmed, but he relaxed just a bit when Patton reached over to squeeze his hand.

“Thank you,” Virgil said again, and Roman knew even Logan couldn’t resist someone so genuinely grateful. “I… I really, really appreciate this.”

“It’s no problem,” Roman said, placing a reassuring hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “But it’s getting late, we should all turn in.”

Virgil relaxed under his touch, tension seeping out of his shoulders as he nodded. “Goodnight, then. And… thank you again. I mean it.”

“Goodnight, you two,” Roman said, lifting his hand from Virgil’s shoulder. “Sleep well.”

He turned, swiftly making his way across the hall and letting himself into Logan’s room without another word, leaving the door open for his first mate to follow.

Roman heard Virgil and Patton step inside their room and close the door behind them, followed by Logan moving to stand in the open doorway, hesitating a moment before stepping inside.

His friend sighed, and he sounded exhausted. “What the hell are you doing, Roman?”

“I’m just helping!” Roman turned around to face him, hands wrung in front of him. “He said he wanted to get to Deigh! It’s not like it’s even out of our way, I’m not changing course. We'll still be on schedule and on par for where we should be."

Logan sighed again, pushing up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose, and Roman started to pace the length of the cabin. “Roman, we do not take passengers. You just met this man in a bar.”

"And he needed to get to Deigh! He's paying us to take him, Lo!” As he walked, he fidgeted with the (still unloaded) gun on his hip, starting the process of taking it apart. “This isn't the end of the world."

He watched as Logan closed the door behind him, moving to sit on the edge of his bed and watch Roman move. “I don’t understand. We never take passengers, and you insisted on giving these two your room.”

After years of practice, Roman could dismantle his gun with ease by now. His hands were constantly moving, taking things apart and putting them back together, especially when he was nervous. As he walked, he disassembled it, turning every few paces to walk in the other direction, his eyes downcast towards the weapon.

“I just… they needed a ride, Logan. I wanted to help them.” Roman started, his voice making a valiant attempt to catch in his throat. “I know I… should have talked to you first. I can sleep on the deck, it’s not an issue.”

“You’re not sleeping on the deck,” Logan said. “You're sleeping in here. I'm not angry with you about the rooms, I just want to know why you were so willing to change your plans for a stranger.”

Roman didn’t respond for a moment, steadily reassembling his gun and tucking it back into his waistband. “I didn’t change my plans, the plan is exactly the same as it was. The passengers were simply an added surprise.”

“An added surprise you usually would never allow,” Logan pointed out, and Roman resorted to fidgeting with his collar as he paced. “And giving up your room? Logically, you would put them with the rest of the crew. Why do Virgil and Patton get special treatment?”

Roman paused for a moment, his back to Logan, but he was back to moving almost instantly. “They… seemed like they wouldn’t do well with the crew. And I’d rather not cause a disrupt right before we leave. Too much trouble.”

Roman was quickly running out of excuses, but Logan didn’t seem inclined to drop it. “They seem polite enough. I’m sure the crew wouldn’t have had any issues.”

The Captain just shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Roman,” Logan said. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

“I’m pacing, Logan,” Roman retorted, quickly buttoning and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. “Come on, four-eyes, you aren’t that blind.”

He heard Logan sigh, his first mate clearly biting back his own rising frustration. “The Captain of my ship just gave two complete strangers his room, and I cannot understand why.”

Roman finally stopped pacing and turned to face Logan, eyes on the floor as his hands dropped to his sides, shoulders falling. “I just… I want to take care of him. I don’t want him to be uncomfortable, Logan. I don’t want him to have to stay with the crew, he should have a space.”

A beat of silence, and he glanced up as Logan blinked at him. “Why?”

“We do this every time I have a crush,” Roman said, going right back to pacing, his hands running through his hair. “You’re so smart and you really can’t see that I… he… you saw him! Did you see him, Logan? Christ!”

“I… saw him,” Logan said slowly. “And he is here, in your room, because you… have romantic feelings for someone you just met in a bar tonight?”

“Yes!” Roman stopped again, face buried in his hands. “Thank you, Captain Obvious! I'll pass you the reins- you're the captain now! You got it! It only took you forever—”

“Roman you know nothing about Virgil. His name might not even be Virgil. Besides, you’ve just given up your room. If you decide to pursue him—”

“Pursue him?” Roman whirled around, eyes wide and face burning. “Logan I’m- that’s not… I’m not pursuing him! I just think he’s cute!” He glanced towards the door, lowering his voice to a whisper. “And keep your voice down, I don’t want them hearing us.”

Logan tilted his head, studying his Captain’s face. “Why? If you have romantic feelings for someone, isn't the best case scenario for them to be made aware?”

Roman groaned and lowered himself to the floor, covering his reddened face in his hands once again. “No, it’s not.”

“I don’t understand,” Logan said again. “He’ll be staying on your ship for an extended period of time and you… don't even plan on mentioning your feelings? That doesn’t seem logical.”

Feelings were never logical, especially love. Roman just didn’t know how to explain that out loud. “I don’t know, Lo. We aren’t even one night in, just… give it time, ok? I just let him on my ship and I don’t… I don’t want him to feel like he owes me something for it.”

The room was plunged into heavy silence, everything achingly quiet, but at least Roman knew Logan understood now.

“Ah.” he said after a moment, clearing his throat. “Apologies, I’m not… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Take your time, Roman.”

“I know, it’s ok.” The room was silent for another moment before Roman pushed himself to his feet, brushing himself off. “It’s late, you should get to sleep. Long day tomorrow.”

“You’re the one always talking about your beauty sleep,” Logan said, watching as Roman made his way to the door. “Where are you going?”

“I just need some air, that’s all. I’m always beautiful, a little lost sleep won't change that, I promise.”

“Roman—”

“Get some sleep,” Roman said, aware he was being uncharacteristically closed off. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

He turned the handle and slipped outside, quietly closing the door behind him, the quiet deck and crisp night air waiting with open arms as he left the rooms behind.

Taglist: @i-really-like-dragons @stitches-system @poettheythem @remy-the-lemon-berry @shrubs-and-bushes @i-sexually-identify-as-a-mistake @wordsmithandworm @the-dead-and-the-decaying @hope340 @winterwynd @thomas-sanders-tothe-standers

Masterpost

[fleckcmscott]

Bewitching Hour

Summary: October has been a blissfully busy month. With Halloween around the corner, Arthur and Y/N have some planning to do.

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 4,665

A/N: Special thanks to @hhandley80​ for this request! You've been so supportive and sweet. I truly appreciate you and hope you enjoy it!

On a side note, my oneshots will be more sporadic. I'm still writing but life has been life. Also, I've finished the first draft of another multi-chapter featuring Arthur and Y/N. It's going to take time to rewrite the subsequent drafts and edit, edit, edit. The chapters will go up once the story is ready. Thanks for your patience and support! 🙂 I heart you all!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask! 

Arthur's suggestion that they make plans to celebrate Halloween should not have been a surprise. He loved starting traditions with Y/N, and she prized adopting them with him. "It's been awhile," he'd said as they'd walked arm-in-arm to the laundromat. "I think it'd be nice."

Holidays had been a source of merriment most of her life. The beauty of red and green decorations at Christmas. Turkey and mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving. An egg hunt and chocolate rabbit at Easter. The togetherness of family during them all.

Halloween, though, wasn't a favorite.

As a child, she'd had fun trick-or-treating, riding her bike from house to far-flung house. And she hadn't minded escorting her little sister as a teenager. Y/N's homemade witch costume had been passed down. She could still recall the sleekness of the ribbon between her fingers as she'd secured the pointed hat under Mabel's chin.

But the magic had fallen away. When married to Jeff, she'd had to attend his boss's annual party. After receiving an apologetic shrug and kiss, she'd be relegated to hanging out with the other wives. They'd included her in their recipe swaps, in their exchanges of mild gossip. Her natural friendliness made chit-chat easy, far easier than having a good time. Those evenings had been spent nursing a glass of wine and willing the clock to go faster.

During the period she'd cared for her father, she'd tried to hand out candy. She liked being a good neighbor and imparting kindness in the form of bite-sized sweets. As his health had declined, the porch light had gone dark. Random rings of the doorbell would result in shouting and swearing. Repeated attempts to explain the door's lock wasn't broken. Festivity would transform into drudgery. It hadn't been worth the trouble. Instead, she'd watched terrible TV specials while her thoughts wandered to a future far from Boonville. A future she'd doubted would ever be.

"I don't know if it's your thing," Arthur had continued, bringing her back to the present. "But you might enjoy it with me." The response he longed for was evident in the worrying of his pocket, outlines of his knuckles visible through the tan cloth.

Everything they'd experienced together had soothed the sting of those wasted years. The hesitancy lurking in her was silly. Unwelcome. Less than either of them deserved. She'd met his keen eyes and half-smile. The sudden mental image of him dressed as a cowboy or pirate, eyepatch and all, prompted a laugh. Convinced her as she dug out her dry-cleaning stub. "It isn't my thing," she'd said. "But you are."

Relief had relaxed his wrinkles, save for his crows feet, which had deepened as he'd returned her happy expression. A slender arm wrapped around her waist, drew her against his solid frame. Once the clerk disappeared through the swinging doors to retrieve their clothes, Arthur grasped her chin and kissed her. The tender explorations were soon sloppy, and she'd giggled, his enthusiasm becoming her own. Their noses had met, his lashes resting on his wide cheekbones. "I think you're the sweetest treat, Mrs. Fleck."

Currently, Donahue's Department Store, Gotham's number one retail emporium (if the ads were to be believed), was bustling with last-minute shoppers. Weary mothers escorted their babbling children through the aisles. Clerks swapped out displays for the changing blue light specials. Lines went for yards. Patricia and Y/N sought refuge at a corner table in the café on the top floor. The warm glow from the pendant lamps provided a relaxed ambience, one that matched the hot cider and pumpkin spice cake they were savoring.

"I've got my grandson on Sunday," Patricia said between bites. "My daughter's going to a party with a medical records tech from Gotham General. Met him when she missed the bus. They split a cab and hit it off." Chuckling, she lifted her mug. "Speaking of, how's married life been so far?"

Memories of the past week quickened Y/N's heart, until she thought it might stop. How Arthur had gripped her replacement Social Security card, just to read her new name. The way he'd grab her for a twirl whenever they were in the kitchen. The reverence in his gaze when they'd lay together after sex, a look that both thrilled and made her blush. "The bills for his medication and appointments will no longer make us cringe," she deadpanned. She lowered her fork. "When we met, I was kind of blindsided - I'm not the type to fall in love quickly." The corners of her lips tugged up. "Being married to Arthur feels like a habit. A habit I should have learned twenty years ago."

"I'm glad you found each other." Patricia reached across the light brown table and covered Y/N's hand, gave it a squeeze. Then she wiped frosting from her mouth and nodded in the direction of the escalator. "Now let's find a costume that'll drive him nuts."

Beyond the colorful cosmetics and pungent perfume counters, they sorted through racks of vinyl smocks and plastic masks. Pop culture icons and princesses. Vampires and spooks. Knockoffs of classic movie monsters. Most were poorly made and decidedly uninteresting. Y/N pawed through accessories in a nearby basket, a cigar here, a patched hat there. "How about a hobo? I could steal Arthur's tie."

"This was his idea. Give him something a little exciting." After a roll of Y/N's eyes, Patricia held out a plastic display bag. "Found it."

The white font on its blue label declared she should "Create a unique look!" A woman in a leopard-print leotard and bow-tie wore black cat ears and a tail, the only two items included in the set. Y/N's nose wrinkled. "I don't think so, Patricia." She rummaged through another bin and examined a hockey mask. "I don't show a lot of skin."

"You show Arthur." Patricia ignored Y/N's glare, continuing to shove it at her. "Every man loves a woman dressed as a cat. Our next lunch is on me if I'm wrong."

Patricia could be relentless, but Y/N had to admit she was usually right. She arched a brow as she eyed the costume. Maybe she could find a solid body suit instead of animal print. The kit was only $2.98. And her friend had made it a challenge. "You're on. But I'm not wearing a bow-tie." She crossed her arms across her chest and tapped her mouth. "Your turn. Would Robert like you as a French maid or a go-go dancer?"

~~~~~

It was a busy season for performers. Arthur remembered HaHa's talent agency being booked solid for October by the end of August. Myriad functions at nursing homes, parties, and children's organizations took place throughout the city. Amusement Mile had a series of special events, allowing Arthur to work extra hours before the slowness of winter dragged in. Once the holiday was over, he'd buy make-up and props on clearance.

He'd always assumed he would like Halloween - if he'd had the chance to celebrate it properly. It was about connection, something he'd never managed. The customs gave him a pretense, a template to meet people, rather than leaving him wondering how to go about it. Provided a hiding place for his seeming inability to act normal.

Recollections of the day were few but vivid. When he'd been around eight, there'd been a party at school. The teacher had made brownies and given the students a half-hour respite from lessons. (A welcome relief, since he wasn't very good at most of them.) But he hadn't had a costume. Hadn't known how to reply when the other kids asked where it was. Not wanting to be left out, he'd pocketed a watercolor pallet and sneaked to the bathroom.

The teacher (he wished he could remember her name) had walked in as he'd smeared green and blue on his face, a pathetic attempt at a turtle. Fear of punishment had caused his laughter. But her kindness as she knelt, wiped away tears and pigment with a scratchy, brown paper towel, had calmed him. "Wait here," she'd instructed. It had taken all his courage not to run home.

After some minutes, she'd returned, an old white sheet in one hand, black marker and pair of scissors in the other. "The nurse won't miss this." She'd traced eyeholes, helped him cut them out. She'd asked questions. About his mother and what it was like at home. Questions he was at a loss for how to answer. Finally, she'd draped the cloth over his head. "There," she'd declared. "Gotham Elementary has its own ghost."

Even as he'd gotten taller and the sheet no longer went beyond his knees, that costume had remained his go-to. He'd venture out to the rest of his building, knocking on paint-chipped doors and pushing broken buzzers. Having learned to stay away from doors that yelling or funny smells emanated from, he hadn't gotten a lot of candy. What he had collected he'd shared with Penny. The wax lips became a free toy. He wasn't sure his memory of startling his mother and being tickled until he couldn't breathe was real or imagined.

At twelve, he was told he was too old to go trick-or-treating. He'd starting scrounging for change to buy hard candies at Helm's Pharmacy. They weren't particularly appetizing, but they'd been what he could afford. Only a few kids rang, a number that dwindled further every year. Most neighbors kept their distance, likely aware he was troubled. Cinnamon discs and butterscotch drops had loitered around the apartment for months. He'd sucked on them in an attempt to cut down on his smoking, just to save money. It hadn't worked.

Y/N hadn't spoken about the holiday, not the way she had other special occasions. At first, he'd thought it had slipped her mind. Work, planning their honeymoon, completing the red tape required to meld all aspects of their lives had taken up much of their time. But, given her reluctance to talk in detail about her past heartache, he'd come to assume her Halloweens had been unpleasant. He was certain he could change that.

Sitting on the dingy, dark green plastic seat of the train car, he giggled to himself, chest puffing up as he straightened. They'd been man and wife for eight whole days. Movies and songs said love was supposed to be somewhere between serendipitous and fated. A happy accident that was meant to be. Lying awake at night, he would find himself wondering where they were on that scale. If the emotions swirling through him - the excitement of belonging, the fear of fucking up - were what every newlywed felt. Then Y/N would snuggle closer in her sleep, murmur nonsense into his skin, and for a few minutes he'd be at peace.

Years had been spent trying to figure out who he was. Trying to find an identity, his role within the world. While he was still searching, it had been far easier to become accustomed to the role of "husband" than he'd dreamed.

Teaching his wife about events across the city had been a delight. Gotham Village's Annual Costume Extravaganza was a parade that went all the way to Gotham Square. He'd participated a couple of times, never formally registering but slipping into the clown section. It had been exhilarating. Had allowed him to pretend, for a little while, that he was being seen. That the crowds lining the sidewalks were cheering for him. Signs for extravagant balls were plastered on billboards and lampposts throughout the streets; he'd have gladly attended and shown her off. A haunted house was being held in a building in his old neighborhood, a fundraiser for the orphanage. He hadn't brought that up.

In the end, once he'd explained trick-or-treaters went from apartment to apartment, they'd decided on a cozy evening at home. The details had been left to her. Whatever she'd plan, he'd love it. He wondered what she'd disguise herself as. Would she be a sexy devil or nurse, like he'd seen on a sit-com? The notion sparked a fire in his cheeks.

Given how busy he'd be, he'd stay dressed as plain, old Carnival. Part of him regretted accepting two gigs, especially on a Sunday. He would have preferred her company. But he wanted to put the money towards the wedding band he'd put on layaway. (Even though they had one account, he wasn't going to let her chip in for it.) He should already be wearing it for all of Gotham to see.

The lurch of the subway prompted him to rise and grasp the pole grip. His stance widened as it came to a halt, knees bending with the instinct of a man who'd ridden public transportation since he was a boy. As soon as the graffiti-covered doors parted, he stepped out onto the platform and ascended the stairs, eager to share his new insurance information with Dr. Ludlow.

~~~~~

Scratchy violins and the hum of a theremin. Shrill shrieks and cracks of thunder. A cackle resounded, then a pipe organ, playing a melody in a minor key.

There was no doubt about it. Halloween spirit had saturated 4A.

NCB's Movie Marathon Mayhem had begun at 10:00 AM. Y/N had had it on since getting out of the shower, hoping to catch a horror classic while she decorated the apartment and prepared Bloody Mary mix. As she hung cotton batting between the television's rabbit ears, creating a long, narrow spider-web, she realized they were only playing cheesy B-movies. Giant insects threatening buildings. Science experiments gone wrong. Alien invasions. Oh well. At least she wouldn't have to pay much attention to get the gist of the plots.

The orange plastic platter, black bats along its edges, had been an impulse buy. She thought its array of sugary skeletons, candy bracelets, and Jolly Jack chocolate bars would be well received. But having seen only one or two kids in the lobby, she had no idea how many children lived in their building. She hoped she'd bought enough.

The cardstock window decorations she'd found were festive and matched Arthur's sweet nature. One portrayed a warted, green witch flying on a broom past a full moon. On the other, a ghost and mouse shared a pillowcase of candy and wished a "Happy Halloween." She held the tape dispenser between her teeth as she stuck them to their white front door.

Just then, the elevator dinged. Glancing to her left, she saw Arthur stroll down the cheerfully lit hallway. Buoyant expression on him, despite his white, blue, and red make-up being streaked from sweat. Striped prop bag on his shoulder and carved pumpkin cradled in his arms. "The store owner was going to throw it out," he explained with a half hug. "But he let me have it as a tip."

Classic, triangular eyes evoked the annual carving contest her parents had taken part of back home. Her father had been well-known in the community, being the town's only doctor. Entering the competition had been expected. They'd never won but enjoyed it all the same. Y/N had picked out the patterns and scooped out the squash's slimy innards. Her mother had baked the seeds. Peals of their laughter echoed in her ears, and a lump formed in her throat.

She swallowed hard against it. Dammit, Y/N. Get it together. This was supposed to be a special night for Arthur and her. She needed to distract herself. One of his curls peeked out from under his bald-cap and green wig. She twirled a strand around her finger. "With that toothy grin, it just might be your twin," she said. He pecked her temple, the kiss sticky from greasepaint. She lit the half-melted candles using his red lighter and put the jack-o-lantern just outside their door.

While he freshened his paint in the bedroom, she slinked into the bathroom to change. Arthur's and her routines were closely aligned; keeping her costume hidden had not been easy. The headband holding the furry cat ears was quite stiff, its teeth a tad sharp on her scalp. Once it was in place, she hid it under her hair. The lint on her form-fitting stretch top and leggings reminded her why she rarely wore all black. She retrieved her brown eyeliner from the nearby shelf and started in on her whiskers.

Arthur's footsteps neared, heavy due to his clown shoes, and Y/N turned to lean back on the sink. His thin lips parted as he scanned her body, forehead furrowed in pleasant surprise. His reaction planted a seed of bliss in her belly, one that bloomed every second they regarded each other. The lunch she'd have to spring for was well worth the pink shells of his ears. Eventually, she held out the fluffy, wired tail and a safety pin. "Would you pin this just below my waistband?"

Fingers grazing hers, he took it and sat on the toilet lid. He cupped her hips and pulled her closer, positioned her until the dampness of his breath hit a bare sliver of her back. "Hold still," he murmured, his voice sending a tingle through her. At his gentle ministrations, the spandex of her leggings felt snugger. "Did you- Did you read my journal?"

A faint click of metal as the pin closed. "No." She colored the tip of her nose, frowned at how lackluster the shade was. "I'd never do that. Even if I'm dying for a preview of your material. Why?"

"No reason." A soft huff, his shy smile clear in his answer. "I have an idea." He handed her a washcloth and hurried out of the room. She was patting her face dry when he returned, a fine tipped brush and pot of black greasepaint in his hand. "This'll look better."

Her brow arched. She'd only had her make-up done once; Patricia had invited her when they'd first met. Such an outing was not her preference, but Y/N had accepted, being new in town and wanting to learn about her colleague. There'd been champagne at the counter, which she'd sipped until she'd spent too much on eyeshadow and apricot scrub. The next morning, she'd put the products and a note on Patricia's desk: "I'll never forgive you. Thanks!"

The heat radiating from Arthur prompted her to close the gap between them. She craned her neck towards him, slid her palms to his yellow vest until she held him just below his ribs. His forefinger curled under her chin, lifted it slightly and angled it to the right. The cool, wet brush met her fevered skin. The dusty smell of the greasepaint blended with a whiff of stale cigarette smoke and traces of his sweat. She licked her lips.

The vibration of his chuckle was felt before heard. "I really like your costume," he said lowly. Two more ticklish caresses of the bristles on the apple of her cheek. "If you're not careful, I might werewolf and go wild."

She stretched closer to him, the fervor in his tone going straight to her center. Though he'd been growing bolder, his cocky side wasn't often revealed. She wanted it, thirsted to see more of the wild horse kicking inside him. Her touch ran over his chest, until she dipped under his black suspenders and pulled. "Are you going to gobble me up?"

Teasing strokes on her nose. "Maybe." Then his thumb whispered along her jaw and guided her face upwards. His kiss was supple, slow, a drag of his mouth as his tongue sought entry. She yielded, the simmer of anticipation bringing her to her toes. He groaned deeply and palmed her thigh, then fondled the curve of her rear-

The ding-dong of the doorbell halted them. He lifted his head and laughed, gaze sparkling. "I got paint on you."

She twisted in his arms and looked in the mirror. The whiskers caught her eye, embellished at the ends with dainty curlicues - his skill never ceased to impress her. Red brightened her lips and streaks of white were on her cheek. "It's all right. They'll just know I've been necking with a clown."

~~~~~

The sound of the bell continued. Over and over and over. More than it ever had in Otisburg. There were mummies, ghosts, a couple of skeletons. A superhero proudly displayed his red cape and blue tights, and a kid in her karate robe went on about her yellow belt. A tiny clown, too young to walk, was brought by her sister. As Arthur made funny faces, the baby cooed and tried to take his red, foam nose. Arthur parted with it gladly.

Only one member of the Wayne family appeared, slicked back hair and pompous pout making the disguise complete. The man accompanying the boy introduced himself as their upstairs neighbor and shook their hands. After one look at Y/N, he nudged Arthur's bicep. "So, she's the one keeping half the building up at night. Good on you, pal." Arthur blinked in confusion as she ushered the guy away, red-faced and muttering about his nerve.

Arthur was overly generous, giving out fistfuls of sweets while taking a few extra seconds to gather his nerves and compliment the costumes he liked best. It felt good to interact with strangers without constantly second guessing himself. Y/N would rub his arm or kiss his shoulder and tell him what a great job he was doing. "Kids are easy," he said, refilling the candy dish. But he reveled in her praises, anyway. And the knowledge that meeting the neighbors was going well.

Clean-up required little effort. The jack-o-lantern sat on their kitchen table, flames flickering as the wicks burned away. The door decor was packed safely for use next year. His plaid blazer was slung over the back of a dining chair and his wig was off. Y/N's decision to leave her whiskers on pleased him - she made a damn sexy cat. He pocketed the last few pieces of candy to snack on during the remainder of the evening.

The Sunday Night Special Presentation she'd picked out, a made-for-TV horror movie, began at 9:00 PM on GBC. Most of its airtime was punctuated by her tipsy snickers and legal wisecracks, which was typical when they watched something stupid. Yet, as the show went on, she grew quieter, barely speaking between sips of her third cocktail. As they sat on the sofa, her posture stiffened. Forearms crossed over her breasts. Her nails dug into her upper arm.

The change started two-thirds of the way into the show, when the plot about a doll running amok twisted into a story about a professional woman trying to assert herself against the demands of her mother. Against the expectations of availability. To fight for the simplicity of having dinner and peace and quiet. It resonated with him, which felt weird. Especially when the film cut to black, the implication being the mother would meet a violent end at the hands of her possessed daughter.

A cheerful jingle came on. Puerto Rico was a direct flight from Gotham Airport, it advertised, a flight that lasted "two hours and fifteen tropical minutes." They should get out while the weather was still good. The juxtaposition of mood broke him out of his ponderings. He flicked off the blaring television with the remote. Then he heard Y/N sniffling.

She set her glass on the coffee table, a slight tremble in her hand. "I need some air," she whispered as she rose, then went out onto the fire escape.

Arthur rubbed his thigh and pressed his lips together. He wasn't used to seeing her cry. Not from sadness. Should he follow her? Give her time? Both had worked previously, depending on the situation. But he wasn't sure what had upset her, what situation they were in now.

Exhaling sharply, he grabbed her glass and dumped the rest of the drink down the kitchen sink. Rinsed their dinner plates and put the slow cooker in the fridge. When he'd finished making decaf coffee ten minutes later, she still hadn't returned. He ambled towards the ajar glass door and stepped out.

Moonlight outlined her shapely figure and reflected off her hair, the silver a contrast to the orange glow of the streetlamps illuminating her face. Her stare seemed fixated on the street below. He followed it to see a group of ghouls and goblins spraying shaving cream on a shop window. A couple, one he'd see occasionally when out for a cigarette, walked down the sidewalk. A woman was half-carrying a drunk man towards a bus stop.

Upon clearing her throat, Y/N spoke. "I may not look like it, but I had a great time with you tonight. The movie just got to me." Relieved, Arthur sidled next to her, wrapped his arm about her back. Her head fell to his shoulder and she smoothed her hand over his stomach. "I don't mean to hide from you. Someday you'll know the details of my earlier life." She scoffed. "When I'm ready to think about them." He entwined their fingers and kissed her hairline, avoiding the wired tips of her cat ears.

Shivering, she took a shaky breath. "There are no skeletons in my closet. Only disappointments." Her voice cracked as she beamed at him, cupped his cheek, and pressed her face to his. "Knowing I'd get to have you would have made those years so much easier."

He held her tightly, massaging between her shoulders. She'd been speaking about herself, but he couldn't help thinking it was about him, too. His years with Penny. His stints in Arkham. The loneliness, the isolation, the endless anger and yearning to be more than a speck of dirt no one cared for. His journal was full of questions about where the hell his one and only was. If he'd known she'd be real, tangible instead of a figment, would existence have hurt less?

Wincing, he tried to push through those thoughts. To focus on her instead of himself. What mattered was that Y/N needed him. Perhaps a joke would cheer her. "I was thinking the other night of how easy it is to smile around you," he said. "You tickle my funny bone." Amusement bubbled in her throat, music to his ears. She released a contented sigh and nuzzled the crook of his neck.

Peaceful stillness ensued as the minutes passed. Though the breeze was chill, goosebumps forming on his pale skin, her affection kept his heart warm. His fingertips rubbed circles into her lower back, and she offered a pleasured hum. Across the way, footsteps pounded. He glanced to see a kid darting up the street, plastic pumpkin pail in tow. The boy's scream was filled with boundless energy: "Happy Halloween, Gotham!"

Snorting, Y/N took Arthur's hand and led him inside. The cheap tail she wore bounced with every exaggerated swivel of her hips. "I've behaved all evening, which your werewolf comment made extraordinarily difficult." She looped her arms around him and flashed a come-hither stare. "May I have a goodie?"

The scrape of her nails on his scalp coiled a knot in his abdomen. "Aren't you supposed to say 'trick-or-treat?'" he asked huskily.

"Your pussycat needs a petting or two." She closed the bedroom door behind them. "Maybe even a mauling."

His brows shot up on a hitched giggle. Then he palmed her hip while she started in on his buttons. Before she got too far, he traced a whisker with the pad of his thumb. Let their foreheads meet and pecked her eyelids. "Only if you give me something good to eat." He pressed into her, his enjoyment relentless, not waiting for her reply before devouring her mouth.

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​, @howdylilflower​, @sweet-nothings04​, @stephieraptorr​, @rommies​, @fallenstarsabyss​, @gruffle1​, @octopus-plasma​, @tsukiakarinobara​, @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile​, @another-day-in-chuckletown​, @hhandley80​, @jokerownsmysoul​, @mrscarnival​

[mwdders]

Christmas

You introduce Harry to Christmas and all the festive things you do throughout December.

Pairing: Harry Hook x reader (Daughter of Elsa)

Word count: 3.8k

Christmas Theme

Enjoy

I just love christmas all year round

— —

You couldn’t wait to introduce Harry to Christmas, he’d been in auradon 2 months now but still didn’t understand the concept of things, such as Halloween and Bonfire night but with December right around the corner you were planning festive traditions more than you ever had, the first being decorating your dorms together.

“Harry!” You knock on his dorm door, arms full of boxes packed to the brim with decorations, you rocked back on your heels as you wait impatiently for him to open the door. “You best have a reason for waking me up before 9am.” A rough voice says before the door swings open and Harry stands there rubbing his eyes. “I do, trust me.” You push past him and he shuts the door. “What is it love?” He slumps back into his bed as you place the boxes on the floor. “It’s December tomorrow, so we’re going to do something Christmassy everyday of the month right up until the 25th.” He rolls his eyes, “I’ve told you lass, I don’t get all the Christmas stuff.” You begin to unpack the first box, full of tinsel, garlands and wreathes.

“That’s why I’m here, to teach you all about Christmas and show you all the traditions I used to do with my family.” Harry sighs, and you feel him get up, “If that’s what you want darlin’.” He stands behind you his arms wrapping around your shoulders pulling you into his chest. “It is.” You lean back and move your head, placing a light kiss on his jaw. “Let’s get started then.” Harry lets you go, standing at your side as he unpacks a box, that one containing snow globes, blankets, baubles and lights. “The one last has the tree in.” You point at the biggest box, “A tree? Lass they’ve got a tree in the courtyard, why do I have to have one in my room?” He raises an eyebrow at you, “Because, it makes you feel festive, I have one in my room.” Harry shakes his head as he grabs the box emptying its contents in the floor as he begins to assemble the small tree. “Let’s do this.”

—

“This looks.. wow.” Harry stands by the door looking at all the decorations you’d put up together. “It is, but not time for admiring our work.” You grab your coat and his, “We have places to be.” You pull his hand and drag him out the room, “Lass slow down.” He laughs as you run down the corridor pulling him along, you reach the door and push them open, and carry on running, the snow crunching beneath your feet. “Y/N!” Harry laughs as he gently pulls you to a holt, “Just, stop running.” He stands breathless as you giggle, “Sorry but, we have to get to the ice skating rink.” Harry’s face turns sour, “Ice skating? Me? Darling’ I’ll be like bambi on ice and be fallin’ on my face.” You smile widely at him, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” You turn and begin walking again before he can complain anymore.

“Come on.” You turn and yell, Harry rolling his eyes with a chuckle before he catches up to you, hand linking with yours, swaying them between the two of you.

“Y/N!” Anica yells as you run over to her, “Hi!” You hug your sister, “I see you bought Harry, teaching him all about Christmas?” You nod, “Anica, help me.” Harry jokes causing you to elbow him, “No can do Harry. This is a family tradition, so we have no option but to continue it.” Anica laughs as she smiles at you, “You’ll be fine.” You say to Harry as you walk over and get your skates on, as you tie your laces Harry bumps his shoulder with yours every now and then causing you to giggle, “Ready for this?” Harry just grabs your hand as a reply, pulling you onto the ice with him. “This isn’t so bad.” He says looking proud, that is until Anica goes speeding past him and he looses his balance, his arms flapping around trying to grasp air to stop him falling but fails as he falls on his bum. “Are you okay?” You skate over to him trying not to laugh as you crouch next to him.

“Don’t think I can move.” He says sarcastically, you put your hands on his shoulders helping him to sit up, “You poor baby.” You joke, he pouts at you, and you stand up, “Come on, try again.” He slowly rises to his feet and you wrap one arm around his waist as he does the same, “Ready?” He nods, and you slowly start to skate, he holds tightly to you but eventually gets a hang of it, “Anica! Look at me.” He yells, as he lets go of you, and skates by himself. “Get it Harry!” Anica chuckles, he does a lap with her, as you watch, “Come join us love.” You skate over and grab Harry’s hand, the three of you in a line as Anica grabs your other hand, “No one fall, if one goes, we all go.” You giggle, as you skate around the rink, this was always a Christmas tradition for you and Anica to do, the last day in November before December, you’d skate together sometimes your mother would join but as you got older it was something the two of you did together, “Harry!” Anica yells as he falls, you falling too and Anica landing on top of you, “What did I say?” You say with a muffled voice as your face is squished by Anica’s hat, Anica laughs before slowing getting up, pulling you up, you turn to see Harry starfishing on the ice. “Get up you silly pirate.” You lightly kick his foot smiling down at him, he looks at you before getting up and wrapping his arms around you, “No more skating for me.” You shake your head, “No, come on. Let’s go and make hot cocoa.” You say goodbye to your sister, after she turns down your invitation for cocoa saying she wanted to skate more.

“So cold.” Harry complains as he pulls his jacket closer to him and his hat further over his ears and forehead. “Well it’s a good job next on the list is cocoa.” You quickly walk through the school and to the kitchen, “Are you sure we can be in here love?” Harry asks apprehensively, “It’s fine, I have a deal with the chef.” You take your hat and gloves off, placing them on the counter, Harry doing the same.

“Vanilla or cinnamon?” You question wiggling your eyebrows, “Vanilla?” You smiles widely at Harry and get the cocoa out, “Vanilla is a good choice, it’s my favourite.” Harry stands next to you leaning on the countertop, his hip lightly touching yours, “Well I trust you my little princess so definitely Vanilla.” You get two cups out and turn the machine on, placing the cups under it, turning to get the whipped cream out the fridge while you wait for the drinks.

“What’s on your list after this then darlin’?” Harry places his head on your shoulder as you lean into him. “That’s it for today.” You kiss his forehead and he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you tight to him as you now stand between his legs. “Whipped cream?” You ask as you shake the can, Harry nods and you put whipped cream on both drinks but also a little on your finger, and as you turn around, you wipe it on Harry’s nose his eyes widening, “Ohh is that how it’s gonna be?” He asks as you giggle, “You’ve got a little something.” You jokingly point at his nose, “Oh really?” Harry moves his face so quickly you don’t get chance to move before he’s wiping his nose on your cheek.

“Harry!” You try to push away from him but his grip is too tight, “You’ve got a little something.” Harry points at the cream smeared across your cheek, “You don’t say.” You smile at him, grabbing a napkin wiping it off, a long with the last bits on his nose. “You missed a bit.” You frown, “I did? Where?” Harry points at your lips before he kisses you, you kiss him back smiling before you pull away, “You smooth boy.” You giggle before pecking his lips again, “Here.” You pass him his cup, “Drink before it gets cold.”

— —

“Baby! Wake up. Today’s a whole new day to be filled with Christmas activities.” You jump on Harry’s bed as you attempt to wake him up, “Y/N.” He groans, you carry on jumping and he grabs you ankles causing you to fall next to him. “Lass, you need to be nicer with these wake up calls.” Harry rolls over to face you, “Morning.” You say sweetly and he rolls his eyes. “What’ve you got planned for today then my little elf?” He sits up, putting his arm out as you rest your head on his chest, “Well, today we’re going to bake cookies, wrap presents and then I’ve planned a Christmas movie night.” You say, it had been a busy week with planning the Christmas activities that you’d not actually done an activity in a few days, it was now the 8th of December.

“Sounds amazing.” He kisses your head and you look up at him, “Get up, get ready. Let’s go.” You stand up and pull your coat on, “Meet me in the kitchen.” You wink at him as he groans before you exit his room and walk to the kitchen. “Is this everything you’ll need?” You smile as Uma questions you, “Yes, thank you Uma.” She smiles widely at you, “You’re welcome.” You stand next to her and place a hand on her shoulder, “You could join us you know? I know you don’t know much about Christmas either.” She shakes her head looking down at the countertop, “It’s okay, this is something for you and Harry, maybe another time.” You nod, “We’re going to the market tomorrow, come with us?” You ask as she makes her way to the door. “Definitely.” She smiles at you again before she’s gone.

You look down at the ingredients scattered all over the countertop and smile, “Well, what is all this?” You look up and see Harry in the door way, “This, is our Christmas activity for the morning.” You wave him over and he stands next to you, “We’re going to bake Christmas cookies.” You open out the recipe and begin to measure out the ingredients, “We can have these cookies at our movie night later, so let’s make them the best ever.” You turn to Harry, handing him the bowl of the cookie ingredients, “Mix until it makes a dough.” You instruct, “Yes ma’am.” He jokes, “How do you want to decorate them?” You ask him as you get the cookie cutters out, “I like the tree one.” He points at the cutter shaped like a tree, “I could decorate it just like the tree in my room.” You smile at your boyfriend, “Sounds perfect.” You take the bowl from his hands, placing a kiss on his cheek as you do and tip the dough out the bowl, rolling it out and handing Harry a cutter. “Give it a go sunshine.” He slowly but surely cuts out the cookies like Christmas trees while you do stockings, gingerbread men and reindeer. “Perfect, let’s put them in the oven.”

As they bake you practice decorating on a spare piece of baking sheet, showing Harry all different decoration techniques he could do, “That’s really good.” You point at the snowflake he did, as the timer goes off and you open the oven taking the cookies out. “They smell amazing.” He leans over you as he eyes the cookies, “They need to cool so practice just a little more.” You place the cookies one by one on the cooling rack, you pick up the tray and place it in the sink, as you turn back around Harry is shoving a cookie in his mouth, “Harry Hook!” You scold, “They are for later.” He shrugs, “But they smelt so good.” His voice is muffled by the cookie in his mouth as his cheeks puff out for being so full, “Fine, but don’t have anymore.” You giggle, and pull the cookies closer, “They’ll be cool now.” You take a reindeer and decorate it, putting it in a jumper and doing a pattern on the jumper. “Look what I did baby.” Harry holds up his cook proudly and you smile at him, “It’s amazing Harry.” You carry on the morning decorating the cookies before leaving them in the fridge and going back to your room to wrap gifts.

You show Harry all the gifts you’ve bought so far and who they are for, he compliments your gift buying skills saying everyone is going to love what you’ve bought them. You show him all the wrapping paper you have, and the bows and tell him to pick a present and wrapping how he wants to, and then chose and tag and write it, it was an afternoon full of laughing about getting cellotape stuck in places you can’t even manage and writing and rewriting name tags that many times you’d got cramp.

“Well that was a new experience.” Harry says as you place the last gifts under the tree in your room. “Definitely, but now you can wrap any gifts you buy.” He nods, “Yeah, thank you teaching me.” You smile, “You’re welcome. We need to go to movie night.” You giggle walking out the room, Harry rushing to follow you, “Wait up!” He runs down the corridor as you enter his room, the curtains shut, Christmas lights on, cushions and blankets scattered on the floor as your friends lie in the floor. “Hey guys!” You get a chorus of hello’s back as you sit in a space, Harry enters slowly after and sits next to you, “I wasn’t expecting everyone to be here.” He smiles widely at you, as the film starts, kissing your forehead, “Of course.”

—

“Which was your favourite?” You ask Harry as you walk back to your room, “Definitely The Grinch.” You roll your eyes at his response, “Why that one?” You unlock the door, “He was the best.” You watch as Harry removes his shirt and falls onto the bed, “Baby.” You stand in front of Harry, holding matching pyjamas, “Look what I got us.” Harry looks taken back, his mouth open slightly before he smiles, “This is cute. I like Christmas.” He changes in front of you, the pyjamas fitting well, “What do you think?” He does a twirl showing off the red pyjama bottoms, and the top with candy canes all over them, and you giggle, “Amazing.” You get changed into yours and lie in bed beside him.

“We’re going to the market tomorrow. I think Uma might come.” You kiss his forehead as you get comfy, “Sounds festive.” It doesn’t long before his snores fill the silence and you follow suit, allowing sleep to embrace you.

— —

“Look! They have a stall with personalised decorations.” Uma says as she walks over to the stall, you follow, holding tightly onto Harry’s hand, the market was very busy this year, with a lot more stalls, “We should get matching ones.” Uma holds up a decoration that is Santa stuck down the chimney, his feet in the air, snow on the roof and room for a name at the bottom, “They’re so cute.” You nod agreeing with Uma, “Hi, can we have three please? One with Uma, another with Harry and the final one with Y/N.” The stall tender nods and turns away, starting to get to work. “There’s so much to see.” Uma’s eyes light up, as she turns her head in every direction, “We’ll see it all, don’t worry.” Harry smiles at Uma, as the wind picks up, you pull your coat tight to you, “I hope it snows again, it’s cold enough to.” You say, as you look up at the dark sky. “I hope so too. I’ve never seen it snow.” You frown, “I always miss it, either inside or asleep when it snows. I want to catch snowflakes.” Uma says shyly, “Me too.” You nod, certain it will snow again.

“Here you are.” The tender passes you a little brown bag with the decorations in as you pay him, “Thank you.” Uma is already gone by the time you turn around to ask where she wants to go next, the top of her hat the only thing visible as she makes her way through the crowd, “It’s like we’re babysitting.” Harry says as you attempt to follow Uma, “Hey now, be nice, she’s just as fascinated by this as you.” He smiles warmly at you, “I know I know.” You catch up with her and she’s talking to a stall tender about stockings and the history behind them, she then moves on to a stall that has candy canes and eggnog, she buys fifteen candy canes, saying she’ll need more for later, “Uma why don’t we slow down and have some eggnog?” You suggest and she sighs but nods, “Three please.” The stall tender hands you three, “Drink up.” You drink yours in one, the liquid warming you, “I like that.” Harry says, “Me too.” Uma agreed before she’s gone again, “Babysitting.” You hit Harry as he laughs and you follow Uma again.

You must do three more laps of the market, Uma making sure she’d seen every stall before you go home, “What a day.” You place all your shopping bags on the floor as you try and open the dorms. “Thank you guys for allowing me to come, I had such an amazing time.” Uma says and you turn to her, “You’re welcome Uma, I’m glad-“ you stop talking as you see the flakes start to fall, “Uma!” You yell and she turns around, “It’s snowing.” Her eyes light up and she runs out onto the grass, “It’s really snowing!” She says again, a huge smile on her face, she laughs before falling into the snow, you turn to Harry and look at him, he returns the look before you both run into the snow, leaving your bags at the door.

You fall into the snow with a giggle and attempt snow angels, “So wave your arms and legs and you’ll make a snow angel.” You tell the two as you watch them, “This is amazing!” Uma yells as she kicks her legs, the snow falling heavier. You turn to Harry and watch him, he stops as he feels you staring, “I love you.” You say happily as snow falls on your cheeks and lands on the ends on your lashes, “I love you too.” You lean over and kiss him, before leaning back again and opening your mouth to catch snowflakes, copying Uma the happiest smiles on all your faces.

— —

You wake up as you feel a delicate kiss on your cheek, your eyes flutter and you turn to see Harry resting on your hip as he stares at you, “Merry Christmas my love.” He smiles when he realises you’re awake, “Merry Christmas Harry.” You lean down and kiss him, “Here’s to many more Christmases together.” He rests his head on your hip, a hand on your knee, “We’ll spend Christmas together, forever, trust me when I say that.” You giggle, looking down at him, “I hope so baby.” He kisses you knee, “I know so.”

The morning is slow as you enjoy each other’s company, you get ready at a slow pace, having no rush to be anywhere. “Lass, I have my gift for you.” You turn to Harry as he holds a gold present, with a green ribbon around it, “Baby look at that wrapping, I taught you well.” He laughs as you joke, “Here. Open it.” You open the present and then open the box, “Harry,” You gasp as a beautiful necklace lays before you, “It’s like a charm necklace, you can add whatever you want to it.” You delicately pick it up, admiring the charms already on it. “I put a snowflake on to represent your mum, a diamond just because they’re pretty and then a hook, obviously for me.” He says the last bit quietly and a single tear slips down your cheek. “Harry I love it, so much.” You place it back in the box and hug him tightly, kissing him as you pull away. “Here, I have something for you too.” You stand up, wiping away your tears as you do, Harry watches as you walk over to your tree, pulling out a red wrapped box, with a silver ribbon and a black name tag.

“Here, Merry Christmas.” You hand him the box and sit opposite him on the floor, he looks at you before opening it. “Lass.” He gasps as he pulls out the silver compass, “Is that?” He asks as he turns it over, you’d had it engraved with a hook on the back but also on the clock face you’d had a picture of a map, but not just any map, the map with directions to get the Neverland. “Wow,” He looks at the device as it spins, “I-I love it.” He places it back in the box and looks at you, “I love it, I love you, thank you so much.” He hugs you tightly and you pull back, “That’s not all.”

“I spoke to Ben and asked him, if in the summer, we could take a trip.” Harry nods slowly, “A trip to Neverland,” He gasps as his eyes widen, “Are you serious?” You nod again, and he sighs happily, running his hand through his hair, “You’re amazing.” Harry says and he shuffles a bit so he’s sat next to you more, “Honestly, thank you so much. I couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas, a better girlfriend, all of it.” You blush, “You’re welcome baby, you deserve it.” Harry grabs your cheeks and kisses you, “I can’t wait for our trip. There’s no one else I’d want to experience this with but you.” You giggle, “I’m excited to go. But for now, shall we go and eat dinner?” Harry’s eyes widen, “Yes, yes and yes. I’m ready for some turkey!” He stands up and walks to the door. “Turkey, turkey, turkey.” He chants as he walks down the corridor, you giggle as you follow, thinking about how grateful you are to have an amazing boyfriend and such an amazing Christmas.

— —

@dpaccione @harper-hook @harryy-hookk @harry-hook-me @harryhooksgazebos267 @hook-harry @descendantsdaily @descendants-hooked @descendantofthesparrow @descendantshh2 @descendantsvk @malsevies @e-v-i-lb-o-y-s @eviesdragon @eviegrimhildes @auradon-prep @klmposslble @kingchad @auradonedit @huma-things @humaudrey @umaspirateship @umaxxhook @umasuggestions @waystobewicked @descendantshh2 @villainouskid @harryhookwriter @imaginesforeverythingfandom @descendantsxreader @fandomsfanficsandfangirlsohmy @fairytaleimagines random tags

[thecozywhaleshark]

Chim Chim Chimmy

A/n: WILDCARD WEDNESDAY Y’ALL

Word Count: 949

Summary: Your couples costume idea to go as Mary Poppins and Bert for Halloween does not pan out the way you thought…

You were so excited. It was October and that meant your favorite holiday was coming up – Halloween.

You loved to go all out, decorating your house from top to bottom, draping every corner in cobwebs, putting out bowls of candy in every room, baking ‘creepy’ foods, carving pumpkins, setting up lights and chicken wire to create ghosts on the lawn amidst the fake graveyard, wrapping your door in toilet paper and gluing on big googly eyes – you did it all. You were prepared – maybe over prepared, to have the best house on the block.

All you needed now were your costumes.

For the past couple of years, you and your boyfriend Jimin had delighted the children with your costumes when you answered the door. The first year you had gone as Pirates of the Caribbean, and last year as a mouse and cheese. This year, you were feeling more…Disney. And you knew just the perfect costume.

“Jimin! I have an idea!” you called over to him excitedly from where you busy tying Kleenex around lollipops to make mini ghosts to hand out to the kids.

“What’s that jagi?” he calls from the other room.

“I said, I HAVE AN IDEA! FOR OUR COUPLES COSTUMES?!” You yell louder.

You hear a yelp and a crash and upon quickly entering the living room, you find Jimin tangled in some of the decorative webbing, desperately trying to rip himself out and only succeeding in getting himself even more tangled.

You laughed and began to help him untangle. “How did you manage to get this way babe?” you ask, reaching up to pull some web from his hair.

“I just wanted to put some more on the piano,” he pouts. “but I didn’t realize some of it was attached to the ceiling to drape and so when I moved it the tack came out of the ceiling and-”

“and the entire thing fell down?” you sympathized as he nodded.

“That’s okay babe, I know it can get sorta like a maze around here this time of year.”

He smiles big and looks around. “Yeah, but it’s fun. We have the best house on the block!”

You laugh. “Heck yeah we do!”

After a few more minutes of struggling, you manage to get Jimin untangled from the webbing.

“Thanks jagi,” he breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh yeah! You yelled something about a costume idea for this year?”

“Right! Okay,” you start excitedly gesturing with your hands. “I was thinking maybe Disney this year?”

Jimin starts getting excited with you. “Yes! Let’s do Disney!” he claps in glee. “What are you thinking? Prince Charming and Cinderella? Beauty and the Beast?”

You giggle and grasp his hands. “Mary Poppins!”

He looks at you confused. “Mary Poppins? But she’s not a Disney princess… she doesn’t have a couple? Am I supposed to be like, her umbrella or something?”

You laugh. “No! Burt silly! The chimney sweep?”

He still looks confused.

“You know the one that sings ‘chim chim-iney chim chim-iney chim chim cheree…’”

His face brightens in recognition. “Oh! That dude!”

“Yeah him! I was thinking maybe we could do a duet if we wanted? Maybe come up with a short jingle we can sing to answer the door?”

He smiles. “That would be so much fun!”

You smile back. “Great! I bet we could find some awesome costumes online.”

You’re so excited you miss how his eyes glint mischief when he replies.

“Oh, I’m sure we can.”

~

It’s the end of the month and the big day is here. You have put on your large white dress and hat and were tapping your foot anxiously as you waited for Jimin to come out of the bathroom. He had absolutely refused to show you his Bert costume, only giving you a slow wink and claiming it was a surprise.

You grinned, imagining him in the classic orange striped suit jacket and white hat with that cute little hat perched on his head.

“Jimin! Are you ready? The kids will be arriving soon!” you shout at the door, and you hear a giggle on the other side.

“I’m ready! Close your eyes okay? I want it to be a surprise.”

You laugh but oblige, raising one gloved hand to your face. “Okay, I’m not looking!”

You hear the door open and Jimin yells “Open!”

Your laugh dies in your throat when you open your eyes and you come face to face with… Chimmy?

Your giggling boyfriend is covered head to toe in a life-sized, poofy yellow Chimmy costume.

“What…?” You are flabbergasted. “Jimin, just… what?” it’s so absurd you can’t help but laugh.

Without giving an explanation, Jimin bursts into song.

“CHIM CHIM-INEY CHIM CHIM-INEY CHIM CHIM CHIMMY, A PUPPY IS AS LUCKY AS LUCKY CAN BE!”

You bury your face in your hands, laughing as Jimin envelops your entire body in a big Chimmy hug.

“Okay that was clever, I’m not gonna lie.” You laugh, pulling out of his hug and fixing your hat.

Jimin picks up a broom and begins sweeping the floor, giving you a wide smile. “Get it? I’m a Chimmy-sweep!”

“Lord help us,” you shake your head laughing as the doorbell rings for the first time that night.

Needless to say, all the kids loved Jimin’s costume, even if most didn’t fully understand it. Many asked him for hugs while you handed out the ghost-pops, both of you singing to the children who walked up to your door;

“Chim chim-iney chim chim-iney chim chim Chimmy

when you’re with a pup you’re in glad company

Nowhere is there a more ‘appier crew

Than them who sings chim chim Chimmy chim cher-oo”

[solartranslations]

Dante 5/31: Reminicence of Spionaggio (TN: Espionage)

She wants to hear Dante’s feelings…

~*Scene: Captain's Cabin*~

(*knock knock)

Dante: Come in

❤≪Dante≫ Seems as usual

???: A visitor now…

Dante: …Ojou-san…

❤≪Dante≫ Seems concerned

Pain: Spies…aren’t needed anymore

???: ???

Link: Ojou-san…

Dante: You…know what I…

Felicita: …

Dante: You’re…an idiot…

Dante: You can blame me. Or yell at me. You have that right

❤≪Dante≫ Ojou-san

Pain: I can’t think of anything

???: ???

Link: It’s Ojou-san’s nature not to leave this alone…

Dante: But then, why…

>Because I can’t leave an idiot like you alone, Dante

(+10 Amore)

>…I don’t know either

(No Amore)

>I don’t want to be called an idiot by another idiot!

(+5 Amore)

(Skip this box)

Dante: …Right…sorry. I asked you something silly

Dante: If we knew the reasons for our actions, then we wouldn’t worry

Felicita: …

Dante: …You really are an idiot, Ojou-san…

Dante: You’re standing on the same level as an idiot like me…

Dante: But…thank you…

Dante: …I’m going to go feel the sea breeze a little more

Dante: See you then, Ojou-san. …Thank you for your sincerity

(End of Scene)

Dante: !?

Felicita: !

Dante: Another idiot…huh

Dante: Yes, it’s exactly as you say

Dante: I’m an idiot…

Dante: …Ojou-san

Felicita: Yeah

Dante: Thank you. For coming here…

(*smirk) Dante: And telling me off. …It made me happy

Dante: …I’m going to go feel the sea breeze a little more

Dante: See you then, Ojou-san. …Thank you for your sincerity

(End of Scene)

❤≪Dante≫ Can't seem to handle it ❤≪Dante≫ Seems confused

Link: Did I want to hear her say…?

Pain: Why did she come here

???: ???

???: ???

Link: Don’t respond to that

Pain: Why did she come here

❤≪Dante≫ Seems concerned ❤≪Dante≫ Seems as usual

Link: I’m glad that…you came

Pain: Why did she come here

???: ???

Link: I can’t say it to anyone besides Ojou-san

???: ???

Dante: And idiot like me…huh

❤≪Dante≫ Seems to want to cry

Pain: I can’t think of anything

???: ???

Link: She’s a strong-willed girl

Dante: Yes. There isn’t anyone more idiotic than me

Felicita: …

Dante: …Ojou-san

Dante: What…what should I have done?

Dante: I still don’t know the best way to answer…

❤≪Dante≫ Seems shocked

Pain: I guess I was supposed to believe in my home country

Link: She’s a strong-willed girl

Pain: I can’t think of anything

Dante: Until I came to Regalo…no, until I met Mondo

Dante: I didn’t have any doubts about what I was doing

Dante: The information and supplies I brought back as a pirate were supposed to be of help to my country…

Dante: Truthfully, I think I was treated as extraordinary for my age

Dante: Claude probably thought of me as a nuisance of a junior back then

❤≪Dante≫ Can’t seem to handle it

Pain: I guess I was supposed to believe in my home country

Pain: Pirate, spy, the Masked Man…I’ve lied too much

Felicita: !

Dante: Hm? What is it?

Dante: Claude said he was my junior?

Dante: Haha, well, I guess it’s natural to think that based on how we look

Dante: He specializes in blending in to his environment so his age is unknown

Dante: And this is how I am

Felicita: Yeah

Dante: …Objectively speaking, my home country of Nord is not wealthy or an easy place to live

❤≪Dante≫ Nord

Pain: I should have had something I wanted to protect

Pain: But the truth is I didn’t think, I just did as I was told…

Dante: But…that’s exactly why I wanted to devote myself and do what I could for my country

Dante: I didn’t think for myself, and blindly believed in my country…

Dante: So without any doubts, I set out for Regalo

Dante: …At the time, Mondo was pure terror to me

❤≪Dante≫ Can’t seem to handle it

Pain: I should have had something I wanted to protect

Pain: But the truth is I didn’t think, I just did as I was told…

Dante: That was the first time I realized what it meant to be completely outmatched

Dante: That moment was probably the first time in my life that I felt resigned for death

Dante: …If I hadn’t been saved by the Tarocco, by the Emperor, I wouldn’t be here right now

❤≪Dante≫ Tarocco

Pain: If my blood hadn’t touched the Tarocco, my life would have been over right then

Pain: I should have had something I wanted to protect

Dante: But, ever since I was accepted as a member of Arcana Famiglia, I…

(*dramatic effect) Dante: I swore to never let someone else think for me and that I would decide my own path

Felicita: !

Dante: Yes, just like you always say

Dante: So I wonder. How much should we really trust in the Tarocco…

❤≪Dante≫ Tarocco

Pain: But there’s a lot we can only do with this power

Pain: There’s some things only human hands can do too

Dante: But I understand that without that power, we can’t protect Regalo

Felicita: …

Dante: …I’m sorry, I still have a lot of doubts

Dante: In Giappone, they say something like people have no doubts once they reach 40 years old

Dante: But I’m full of doubts

Felicita: !

Dante: Ojou-san, you…

❤≪Dante≫ Ojou-san

Link: You don’t need to try so hard to get an explanation out of me

Dante: You’re right to call me an idiot. …I’m a huge idiot!!

Dante: In fact…there’s isn’t anyone who’s a bigger idiot than me!!!!

Dante: …Yes, that’s right. “It’s hard to tell an idiot from someone who’s asleep”…

❤≪Dante≫ Seems as usual

Link: When I see her like that, I can’t make complaints

Dante: I feel like I finally understand the meaning of this Giapponese saying

Dante: Thank you, Ojou-san. …I still have doubts, but I’m tired of looking down

(*bam) Dante: Right now, I’ll use all of my power in the Arcana Duello

Dante: That’s…the best way I can repay you and show my sincerity…!

~*End of Scene*~

You have one Heart Voice. It can be heard within SPECIAL

(Continue to Common Route May 31)

(Back to Directory)

[until-theend-oftheline]

All He Wants

Pairing: Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: Smitten Seb

Word Count: 737

A/N: It can be read as a stand alone but it is thought as part of my LLL verse. It’s Halloween 2012. Seb and Y/N are close friends and they are at Chris Evans’ house in LA for a Halloween Party.   

Betaed by: @sebs-potato - Thanks Ida even if you forced yourself on the drabbles

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Lifelong Love Letter -  Halloween

It had been a long day of meetings for Sebastian and honestly Chris probably hadn’t been able to come tonight instead of flying straight him, had Y/N not ganged up on him along with Chris. Not that it took much as soon as she told him she was going to be at Chris’ Halloween party in LA too.

She had been meeting up with her band, sorting out details for the couple of Christmas shows they were going to do this year. She had insisted the night wouldn’t be the same without him and Sebastian had instantly relented, much to Chris’ amusement. At least they were flying back to New York together without Chris around to mess with him, Sebastian thought as his friend approached him with a mischievous smirk on his face.

“They are here,” Chris announced, looking pretty stupid in his pirate costume. Sebastian frowned at his words making Chris laugh. “Relax. She just brought her bandmates. Not a date.”

“Why would I care if she brought a date? She’s just a friend,” Sebastian lied, causing Chris to roll his eyes.

“You know buddy, for being such a great actor you’re a shitty liar,” Chris grinned.

Sebastian opened his mouth to sass Chris back but froze in his movements as he saw her. She was laughing and talking to Rachel and Dean while getting a drink. She was always breathtaking, but tonight she caused Sebastian’s mouth to dry up.

“Close your mouth. You’re gonna catch flies,” Chris elbowed Sebastian, bringing him back to reality, but not fast enough to prevent Chris from yelling her name and waving her over.

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat when her eyes met his across the room and her face lit up in a huge smile. She waved at the two men before quickly excusing herself to her friends.

“You could have warned me,” Sebastian hissed at Chris without taking his eyes off the drop-dead gorgeous woman he had been harboring feelings for for months now. She was wearing a tight leather Black Widow suit and a fake gun on her hips and Sebastian couldn’t pry his eyes from her even if he tried.

“Why do you need a warning? You’re just friends right?” Chris smirked and Sebastian shot him a warning glare, just as Y/N made it to them.

“Hi boys,” she smiled, hugging first Chris and then Sebastian. It was just a quick embrace and Sebastian had to fight himself to not pull her back into his arms as she pulled back. She always felt as if she belonged, but looking like she did tonight Sebastian could barely breathe when he looked at her.

“You look stupid, Chris,” she laughed, and the man instantly pulled a playful face at her.

“And here I was about to tell you how good you look,” Chris faked offense, making her giggle as he continued. “You know in the comics Bucky and Black Widow had a thing.”

Chris words tore Sebastian from his daze and if looks could kill, Marvel would have to start searching for a new Cap a hell of a lot sooner than they had planned. Y/N didn’t seem to notice Sebastian’s murderous mood, she just laughed again before sending him a flirtatious wink, effectively stopping his heart for a few seconds.

“Is that right? A shame Bucky isn’t around. All I see is a rock star,” she grinned reaching out to grab Sebastian’s hand. “Will you dance with me anyway?”

“Yeah. Alright,” Sebastian muttered, giving Chris a kick as soon as she turned her back. All he got from his trouble was Chris mouthing at Sebastian to tell her, and he was going too. Eventually, but not tonight.

Tonight it was all he could do to remember how to form words around her and that was one conversation he didn’t want to mess up. Instead, he laughed and wrapped his arms around her as she started to bop her head and do a silly little dance in front of him the moment they reached the dancefloor. She was beyond perfect and Sebastian was lucky he was the one she chose to spend the night laughing, dancing and talking too, while ignoring every other guy approaching her. A small hope started to ignite inside his chest with how she was acting. Maybe she felt the same way about him as he did her after all?

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Sebastian Stan/Bucky Barnes Tag Team

@emilyevanston @sea040561 @feelmyroarrrr @holyfuckloueh @evansrogerskitten

@smoothdogsgirl @roxyspearing @mizzzpink @blacktithe7 @grace-for-sale @thinkwritexpress-official @percywinchester27 @mizzezm @yknott81 @thoughtsofdarc @mysupernaturalfics @becs-bunker @docharleythegeekqueen @jamersgang  @v-2bucky @cd1242 @scarlettsoldier @angelsandwinchesters @danijimenezv @girl-next-door-writes @hellaqueerangelofthelord @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @thisismysecrethappyplace @marvelismylifffe @sebs-potato @vvishous @sebsunshinestan @averyrogers83 @thejourneyneverendsx @xdreamseb @serienjunkiegirl

Lifelong Love Letter (Sebastian x Reader Series - On Going)

@whatmakesmebeme-tblr @imjusthereforsupernatural @winchesters-favorite-girl

[drummergirl231-2]

AU - Huey, Dewey, and Louie’s Father

(Note: I posted this in October 2018, months before “Whatever Happened to Della Duck?!” aired.) I didn’t think over 20 people would be interested in my silly ideas, but you guys surprised me!

I have no idea how things will go in the show regarding the boys’ father (and Della being gravid), but my brain can’t stop trying to fill in story details in the meantime. So without further ado, my AU!

As you can see by this Duck family tree by Carl Barks, HDL’s father had a military-like haircut (and also freaky human-looking ears for some reason, but I ain’t about that) so I had the idea that he was in the army and Della, Donald, and Scrooge are all under the impression he was killed in action (but he wasn’t!). 

Della finding out she was gravid:

In my story idea, Della was engaged and her fiance was about to be deployed when they conceived the boys. Donald waited up for Della as usual, and waited, and waited, and made coffee, and waited some more until she finally came home after 4am. After whisper-yelling at each other in the hallway outside their rooms (Donald scolding her for being reckless and Della saying she regrets nothing) they both turned in.

Once Della’s fiance was deployed, Scrooge noticed Della was even more melancholy than the last time (oxytocin is a jerk like that sometimes) so he decided to take Della and Donald on an extended trip to Della’s favorite places. While on the trip, Della started experiencing nausea. Scrooge thought she must have eaten something bad, since, “It’s not like you to get motion sickness, Lass.”

Scrooge decided that Della might be more comfortable in a hotel, so they got a room and ordered a third bed (the rolling kind, which Donald would have slept in only it kept folding in half on him so Della volunteered to sleep in it and it didn’t fold in half on her). Della’s nausea didn’t improve though and she suspected she could be gravid. 

One morning, Della took a test and discovered she was gravid. She started freaking out and wondering how she was going to tell Donald and Scrooge when Donald knocked on the bathroom door asking if she was okay. She opened the door and pulled him into the bathroom and shut the door again. She asked where their uncle was and when Donald said he’d already gone downstairs, she held up the positive test. Donald stared at it for a few seconds before saying, “Please tell me that’s a thermometer and your temperature is 11 in some foreign unit,” to which Della shook her head. Her eyes started tearing up and her bill quivered, which was enough to make Donald soften and hug her and promise to be supportive.

She was still pretty nervous about telling Scrooge. Donald tried to encourage her to get it over with as they were leaving the room to go downstairs, and Della turned to him while he fussed with the lock and said that Scrooge was born in the 1800s and would probably disapprove. “If Uncle Scrooge knew I was gravid he probably wouldn’t speak to me again until after the wedding!” “Try me.” Della jumped and realized that Scrooge had been coming up the hallway and heard what she said. Fortunately, he was also more supportive than she thought he’d be.

Her fiance’s supposed death:

After a brief visit to Ithaquack to share her news with Selene and Storkules, they returned home. She had an ultrasound done and the doctor told her it was triplets. She tried to think of a cute way to tell her fiance, who always wanted a big family. One night while she, Donald, and Scrooge were watching a movie, she got a call from her fiance’s mother and stepped outside the room to answer. She told Della he’d been killed in combat and that she didn’t want Della at the funeral (she never approved of the match). 

Della started crying but kept her head until the end of the phone call when she started hyperventilating and sobbing, at which point Donald and Scrooge came around the corner and held her, then helped her sit down when it seemed like she was about to faint. 

Della later sent a sonogram to his mother to let her know she was going to be a grandmother of triplets. She never replied.

She developed Preeclampsia and had to go on medication before finally delivering her eggs by cesarean with Donald by her side. Afterward she developed Postpartum Depression with frightening intrusive thoughts, leading to her departure on the Spear of Selene and leaving the boys with Donald, who she believed would keep the boys safer than she could.

FAST FOWARD

Della returned from the moon and wrote a book about her ordeal. She got invited to go on a talk show and told some of her story there. Her former fiance was alive though, and one of his buddies saw the interview where she said how she lost him and then told him about it. He watched the interview online and knew he had to contact her.

He called the landline of McDuck Manor and asked to speak to her, without telling Webby (who answered) who he was. Della nearly fainted again when she heard his voice, and he asked how she could have lied like that. She asked what he was talking about and how he could be alive. He countered that she saw him alive and broke up with him because of his wounds and not to deny it. “I’m going to deny it because it’s not true! How could you think I’d leave you? Especially for something like that?” “I wouldn’t have believed it, except I saw you left the ring on the nightstand in my hospital room!”

When he got transferred to a hospital back in the US, he woke up after a surgery to see the engagement ring he gave Della on the nightstand beside his hospital bed. His mother told him Della had been there and when she saw him wounded she called things off. “You mean the ring I’ve been wearing on a chain around my neck all this time?”

They then realized his mother had orchestrated their separation, even going so far as to have a replica ring made, and boy oh boy were they mad. They were excited to meet with each other again, though. “Since you haven’t actually seen me, I should warn you I’m a little lopsided.”  “What do you mean?” “I lost my leg.” “How? ...If you’re okay talking about it.” “Well my boys put a firecracker under my chair...” referring to his comrades (a reference to the old comic when HDL put a firecracker under their dad’s chair and he had to stay in the hospital). He was only joking though and he told Della the truth: he’d stepped on a landmine.

He’d suffered from PTSD but was doing much better, and he was actually a successful youtuber doing inspirational workout and hardcore parkour videos despite only having one leg (he does have a prosthetic but he doesn’t always wear it). He hadn’t lost his senses of adventure or humor that Della adored so much.

He’d seen Huey, Dewey, and Louie on TV before but didn’t realize their age and thought Donald must have had kids. He didn’t realize those boys were theirs.

Reunited

After they told off his mother for tricking them and keeping his triplets a secret from him, he and Della started dating again with the intention of finally marrying if all goes well. She gave the real ring back to him so he could propose again properly if the time came. He finally met his sons and started renting a house in Duckburg to be closer to all of them. He was also helpful to Della as she dealt with her own PTSD. 

He thanked Donald for everything he’d done for the boys, and asked if he would let him do two things. “What?” “One, I want to start paying child support. I know you have your pride, but I have mine and I want to start taking financial responsibility.” Donald reluctantly agreed since he put up a good argument.  “Okay, what else?” “I want to be the king of corny dad jokes. The other night I couldn’t sleep so I started writing out all these dad jokes I could use and imagining them facepalming and rolling their eyes at me. Please let me have this.”

When Halloween rolled around, his boys really got to see the extent of his humor when he said, “Alright boys, I have three ideas. One, your mom and I are thinking of dressing as pirates and I could do the whole peg leg thing, Two, I could be the elf ‘Legless,’ and she could be Tauriel, or three, I could lie on the front walkway of my house with fake blood and gore makeup all over my stump and reach out for help like something just tore off my leg while she bursts out the front door controlling some giant beast puppet.”

The Boys

Louie had a bit of a hard time accepting his dad in his life at first. He didn’t want his mom to move out again when she gets married considering they just got her back, and he didn’t want his mom and dad to take him and his brothers away from their Uncle Donald.

Scrooge held a meeting with Donald, Della, and the boys’ father to discuss options, saying there was a portion of the mansion that was like a separate flat (two bedrooms, a bathroom, a small kitchen and dining/living area) where they could live and have privacy but still be close to the boys (It had been Mrs. Beakley and Webby’s apartment until the separate air conditioner went out one summer and they moved into the main part of the mansion and never got around to moving back because it was a hassle.) They agreed this was a good option while the boys were still growing up as long as the AC was fixed.

Not long after, he and Della got engaged again, and when they got married Scrooge gave Della away and the boys had choreographed a surprise dance at the reception where they took off their tux jackets to reveal t-shirts they’d made. Huey’s said “At last,” Dewey’s said “too legit,” and Louie’s said “to quit!” So it read “At last too legit to quit!” as a joke that they were finally “legitimate.” Their father was so proud of the pun.

Marriage and a New Baby

After they got married, Della got gravid again. She was nervous after her complications last time, but still in a much better place with her true love alive and by her side.

She told Scrooge first by gift-wrapping her test (which was in a plastic bag inside the box since she remembered how squeamish he was about home tests the last time) and she and her hubby gave it to him on his birthday. He was surprised, but so happy he laughed and hugged them both and started tearing up a bit. When his nephew-in-law asked him if he was crying he said, “A Scotsman doesn’t cry, Laddie. He sweats from his eyes.”

They told Donald the next day by giving him a baby onesie that said, “I Have the Best Uncle,” and he reacted very much like Scrooge but didn’t deny his tears.

Then they set up a mystery/scavenger hunt for the boys and the last thing they’d find was a sonogram. Louie just kept looking back and forth from the sonogram to his parents saying “NO WAY!” with a big smile on his face. Huey hugged and nuzzled his mom’s tummy while Dewey started doing parkour tricks off the walls that his dad had taught him.

Della had another c-section since she’d had one last time and didn’t want to risk complications with a natural egg-laying.

Later on when they took the egg to a checkup, they had the doctor write whether the baby was a boy or girl on a piece of paper which they gave to Webby to organize a fireworks display over the Duckburg harbor. They wanted pink fireworks for a girl or blue for a boy. 

Della used social media to invite all of Duckburg to the gender reveal party, and they took Donald’s boat out and waited. Lots of other boats were on the water and a crowd had gathered at the harbor. The fireworks shot into the air, and when they exploded, pink sparks filled the sky and everyone cheered. Everyone had hoped for a girl since they had three boys already (even the boys, who wanted an excuse to still watch animated princess movies), and Dewey was so excited he jumped ship with a “WOO-OO!!!” Everyone laughed except Donald, who immediately threw a lifesaver to Dewey, not that he needed one.

When the baby girl hatched, they named her Josephine (Della likes old names and the song “Come Josephine in my Flying Machine”) and everyone called her Jojo since, as Dewey put it, “She’s too little for a name as big as Josephine.” At first they called her Josie but then shortened it even further.

Della took a picture of Scrooge holding Jojo for the first time and smiling as his eyes filled with tears and she posted the photo online. It went viral and Scrooge’s popularity went up when everyone saw his softer side.

And so they all lived happily ever after. 

[wisp-the-willow]

Inktober day 2 The Alien Empress. Writing again done by the same friend.

The Alien Empress

For the first time in a century the royal throne room was silent. It wasn’t because it was empty, far from it. The room was full of royal subjects from the highest of dukes, to lowly lords of distant planets. No one knew how to act in front of her. Even the jesters who would have livened up the halls just a week ago dared not stir. She was the first Queen to sit upon that throne since…ever.

You would think she would be nervous in front of such a crowd, but you would be mistaken. Her face covered in a golden shawl, no one could see the smirk upon her face. She had planned for this day since the beginning. She had bided her time for so long. Decades worth of planning, so many deals she had made, so many promises she had broken. All worth it for this moment.

She looked at all the faces of her subjects, she knew they realized that she had a part to play in all of this, she didn’t need her third eye to see that. Some of the nobles were as dumb as meteors but it would take a blind man to not see foul play. The best part was that it didn’t matter, in fact it made it all the sweeter. A room full of people who dared not whisper, for fear of what might come. Before there would have been a line of nobles with concerns and grievances, and that stupid king would have bend over backwards to make sure they were happy. They all knew those days were long gone. It was time to break the silence.

She stood up from her throne, even that small movement made the crowd stiffen. Her smirk became a full fledged smile. She started to walk forward and stepped over the dead kings body. Fresh blue blood still dripping from where he was stabbed. With her walked her new knights of the Raging Nebula. Armor of the finest quality, dark as the black hole they were made in. Menacing in every way, just how she liked it. Each step she took the knights took in unison, from silence to deafening steps. She could see the hair raise from the back of their noble stiffened necks. Finally she reached the podium with her knights by her side. She grabbed onto the podium with both hands and began to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I know we all gathered here for festivities and to celebrate my late husbands birthday but there has been a change of plans. I know we are all saddened by the terrible accident that has happened here today but worry not, I shall show us the way in this time of trouble.” She gave a pause and looked at her dead husband with that silly look of surprise still on his face.

“Now you may think the trouble is of my poor husband dead on the ground, but his troubles are all but gone. What troubles I speak of are the troubles of which this great kingdom has had for a long time. Selling planets to pay debts, civil wars, losing entire continents back to the natives. Even the Galactic Alliance is starting to gain a foot hold in our home galaxy. Our home dammit!” Her softened tone was all but gone. “And we all have the audacity today to be here and celebrate!? Celebrate what!? A mans disappointing rule? The fall of our beloved worlds?” She paused again, taking a deep breath, trying to regain her composure.

“No, no I dare not celebrate such terrible grievousness upon our kingdom. Instead I wish us to celebrate something much greater. The start of something new, a new era of our rebirth. Back to our glory days of conquering and our endless quest of a united beautiful galaxy. With our new allies there is nothing that will step in our way.”

She looked at the crowd, still silent, fear written across their faces.

“But fear not, I would never force any of you to do anything you don’t want to do, so I give you two choices. Stay here and revel in the festivities of our new found kingdom. Or you may leave and go home and live your life with your fake, empty riches, which debt is slowly eating away I’m sure. I promise you will not be harmed in these halls if you try to leave now.”

She waved her hand and the knights guarding the main doors opened them and backed away. Now she waited. The guests looked at each other, each one waiting for someone else to make the first move. Very few had the gall to fight their own fights even less to make their own decisions. Foolish cattle all of them she thought. The silence told her everything she needed. She was about to start talking again when in the back a voice finally broke through.

“I-I will not stand for this nor will anyone in my household.” An older man stuttered. She couldn’t quite see who it was but it didn’t matter, she was prepared for this either way.

“The Gornaatians have a code of honor, we can not let ourselves be led by a tyrant queen who would join with such pirate filth, no matter what fancy armor you put them in, they are still thieves and murderers.” He had gained a little more courage for his stutter disappeared.

Her smile faded “Very disappointing, but I stand by my word, now leave my sight, I wish to never see you or your ilk again.”

He nodded and gathered up his family to disperse. His two sons and three daughters started to leave but he looked back. He was missing one. His youngest son dared not move.

“Come Varian we are leaving.” he yelled at him.

He looked back at his father with tears in his eyes and shaked his head. Fear kept him from moving, he wanted to, but he knew better. He knew this would not end well.

“Fine abandon your family, you will not have a place to go when you leave here.” he scoffed at his son.

With that the rest of his family headed out the door. No one else dared watch them leave but him. The doors began to close and just before they closed all the way he saw something black surround his family. Then that was it, no sound would make it past those doors, he at least didn’t have to hear what he knew was happening. The tears in his eyes finally ran down his face but he kept silent, he had to.

“Congratulations Varian, you are know leader of your household, no need to thank me,” She said so casually as if she had done it before.

“Now grab a drink and indulge in my splendor, for a new age of prosperity is upon us. All hail our mighty Empire!”

The crowd all kneeled and yelled, “All hail our mighty queen, to queen Leviathanna.” So it began. The beginning of the end.

[ikesenmotonari]

yay that ikesen oc thing. she’s a multifandom oc but hey im not creative so i might as well JAM her into another universe lets go lads

idk who to tag but if u have an ikesen oc go for it i wanna know bout em!!!

i was tagged by @nyktoon-ikemenlove thank you sweetheart!!!

Age? Height?

“Hi! I’m Melody Wyverne, but my friends if I had any would call me Mel, Mells… that fun stuff! I’m nineteen and I’m five foot two!”

She’s petite, on the curvy side. She’s 5′2″, or 155 cm; she is only nineteen and wants to go home. lmao

What’s your fashion like? [Time travelers – pre & post-wormhole!]

“Er, pre time-jump I was a fan of sleeveless hoodies and high-waisted jeans. I didn’t go out much, so I dressed comfortably. Now I wear kimono and hakama… it’s pretty. I sure hope it didn’t trouble people too much to make these…!“

The top one is an older doodle. thonk emojis

Where are you from?

“I’m from Canada, actually. I lived alone for a bit then my dad reached out to me and asked me if I’d like to spend some time with him in Japan. So uh, I just wanted to talk to him again and thought this would be a good way for me to intern somewhere… it might as well be his business right? Then the storm thing.“

Her mom is French, her dad is English. She’s got a ridiculously high IQ level and no social skills whatsoever, so she knows most Japanese and speaks it pretty okay despite her North American kind of accent. Is that a thing? thonks

Feudal era – pros and/ or cons?

“There are pros?!“ She’s not very happy being surrounded by blood and death…

Pros? Cool clothes. Cons? HAVE YOU MET THESE PEOPLE?!

If you’re not in your homeland/time, do you want to go home?

“Gosh. Absolutely.“

What’s your home life like?

“Well, I’ll run you through a usual day! Ah… well, I’d eat something, then play with my cat, talk to Avery for a bit, then… yeah I’d spend the rest of it at the garage, just working on my projects! It’s… I like working. It’s not healthy, and I’ve been told… but it’s nice, you know?“

Melody doesn’t go outside.

She scarcely leaves her property and the only close friends she has is a cat and a cyborg (a man with no arms). Her parents split years ago and she wasn’t properly socialized as a kid. Being raised as a certified genius? It’s… lonely. She doesn’t know how it’s affected her, but being thrown back in time is forcing her to look at things differently.

You just got your dream job! What is it? / Or, what’s your line of work?

“I’m a programmer on the side, but first and foremost, I make prosthesis for people. I have a background in medicine and engineering I suppose…”

Any other hobbies or skills? Do you use them / how do you use them in the Sengoku period?

“Not really… I can barely take care of myself as is, haha! Erm. I can’t use my skills much at all in this era. Other than some simple automatons, there’s also guns I can piece apart, but I’m more hesitant with those… all I can do is use my expertise in biology I guess. There’s a lot of injuries going around, and I’m glad I’m not completely useless.“

Where is your base of operations? Azuchi Castle? Kasugayama Castle? A pirate ship? Running all over the woods or in a secret monastery? Some other cool place?

“I woke up in a forest near Azuchi and stayed in a neutral tea house for a while before Lord Masamune pretty much dragged me to the castle. So I stayed there for a few months, and the warlords grew on me, but… I… got kidnapped. So I guess my base of operations is a pirate ship.”

Oh?

“…I don’t like it. Don’t get me started on their captain…”

How do you feel about killing and violence?

“I just wish there’s another way past it all. I don’t think I’ll ever understand the logic behind killing someone. I… I’m a doctor. Not a murderer.”

Have you learned to fight? If so, what’s your weapon and/or fighting style of choice?

“Nope, actually. But there’s some good guys on board that might be willing to teach me! At least, I hope so. The only thing I’m leaning towards are guns, unfortunately, but they’re the closest thing to a modern mechanism I can get. Eep… I don’t know how to fight! I don’t want to!”

What are you fighting for?

“Um, my life?!“ It changes. Eventually. ;3

What are your feelings about authority?

“As long as they’re not bullies? Fine.” She pauses. “Lord Nobunaga was different though. I didn’t understand him fully, but he doesn’t really make fun of me or anything. He’s just curious I guess. I don’t tend to question authority unlike some pirates.”

How do you handle someone invading your personal space?

“I just get really uncomfortable and back away if I can. I can’t bring myself to yell at people unless they’ve seriously whittled down on my patience. I didn’t know I had it in me, actually… huh.“

…do you invade people’s personal space?

“Ha…. haha! Yeah, sometimes. I get nosy okay? I didn’t even know what personal space was until I was eleven!”

Are you more open, or more reserved? Are you secretive?

“Avery says I’m an open book. I have nothing to hide, no secrets to keep. There’s not much that happened to me before, so I guess I’m some kind of blank slate? Gee, that sounds so harsh…”

Is this the first time you’ve been truly in love?

 “Love? Have you spoken to these people?”

Eventually? Yeah. Yeah this is her first time.

What’s your style as a lover? (interpret this as innocently or not-innocently as you please ;) )

She’s sweet, affectionate and balanced. She knows when to handle time with her partner and time working on whatever independent activities. Though she’s quite a dense person overall and won’t realize if she’s even fallen for someone, she deeply and wholeheartedly trusts them. It takes a while for her to know this.

Also, she’s 99% submissive and slightly masochistic. As well as a rope bunny.

What are your favorite ways for someone to show you love?

Touches, fleeting ones. Tight hugs, any kind of embrace. Show her something unconditional, undivided. She’s been isolated for so long she convinced herself she won’t have someone to love, so she carries on merrily alone, not knowing how deprived she is of human contact. Hmm.

Take her on an adventure. Bring her out of her comfort zone. Show her what the world could be like… you’ll change her.

Do you use a petname or endearments for your lover(s)?

Not really, she would give nicknames if she could! She already says things like ‘honey’ and ‘dear’, but nothing too mushy unless it becomes super playful and joking.

How do you feel about…

Nobunaga? “He’s such a complicated warlord… I don’t know if I’ll ever understand him. But he’s shown some really keen interest in me. Is it because I’m a Westerner? Either way, Lord Nobunaga scared me and he still does. But after spending months in the castle and talking to him, he’s not actually as mean as I thought he was. I don’t know why he laughs at me though! I guess the things I do seem really silly to him!”

Hideyoshi? “Oh he’s super nice. He taught me how to make tea when mister Mitsunari and I put way too much leaves in. He tends to scold me for staying up though, but I can’t help my insomnia without my pills! It’s really comforting to know that Lord Hideyoshi is looking out for me though. The things he does reminds me of how Avery takes care of me, so I guess he’s like a big brother? Heehee.”

Masamune? “He was the one who brought me to Azuchi castle, and boy is he wild! His energy shocked me honestly, it’s like he never runs out of it. He’s so cool though! He kinda scared me too, and I’m pretty sure he can stab me once told to, but he’s been really playful. I didn’t know I’d have so much fun in Azuchi thanks to him. And he makes amazing food! Though he should stop bugging me to eat three meals a day…”

Ieyasu? “Aw man, I wish I can talk to him without him speedwalking away or trying to avoid me! He’s reading stuff about medicine, right? I’d like to know what he’s learning. It’s no doubt super different from modern medicine. I try to talk to him sometimes but Lord Ieyasu’s always busy… was it something I said?”

You know that question about invading personal space? Melody leans in to peer over at his books sometimes. She’s a bit too friendly to his liking.

Mitsunari? “I relate to him a lot. He’s really friendly and sometimes I’d spend my free time reading with him. Time goes by so fast though and either Lord Hideyoshi or Lord Ieyasu would step in to tell us we’ve missed dinner…”

Literally. They are so alike. They got along swell.

Mitsuhide? “S-Scary… have you heard of those rumors about him? I mean, in person he’s okay, but he’s just tall and intimidating to me. He did take me out to the marketplace once and show me around, which… well, nevermind. I guess he’s nice. Apparently Lord Hideyoshi told him to stop teasing me, but I don’t recall being teased?”

She’s dense. 

Shingen? “Big man. Very tall, and… I think he was flirting with me. Whatever it was, he’s… really.. erm, polite and all, and I met him along with Yukimura and Sasuke at the forest tea house before I was taken to Azuchi. I don’t know him too well, but with what Lord Nobunaga told me, he must be a strong warlord…”

Kenshin? “I never met the guy. With a title like the ‘God of War’, I don’t think I want to…!” Fear.

Yukimura? “He’s… he’s kind of… what’s the word, gruff, isn’t he? I met him along with Shingen and I guess it’s a good quality to be honest and stuff. I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

She spilled tea on him. You can imagine the rest. Sasuke came in clutch.

Sasuke? “He’s super great. I wish I had more time to talk to him! He kinda saw right through my attempt to hide the fact that I’m from the future and he gave me helpful advice on fitting in and staying under the radar. Eep, sorry I got dragged to the castle, Sasuke! We can talk about astrophysics another time…! Seriously, I’m so grateful to him. Without his advice I’d probably be in big trouble.”

Kennyo? “He went near the tea house once and was feeding the fish in the koi pond. He’s scary, but… he’s nice. I served him tea and some dumplings. I had no idea he hated Lord Nobunaga so much…”

Motonari? “Ugh… infuriating. I didn’t know I could be so angry at someone before I met this guy. The nerve he has, to kidnap me in broad daylight, spit on Azuchi defenses, and then use me as his impromptu surgeon for the high seas! Hmph. … I… I don’t know. The more time I spend with him, I feel like I’m not going anywhere - you know, I try to get along, I really do, but I think he’s keeping me away? Like, he just tends to stay shallow with people. As annoying as he can get… I want to know why. He’s shown how playful he could be, and his crew loves him. He gives me the same vibes as Lord Nobunaga, actually… intimidating, but I want to know more about him.”

Any other friends/notables?

“I have a friend named Avery and he’s awesome! He took care of me ever since I was eleven, he was twenty-one at the time and now he’s thirty. He’s like a dad to me. Oh, and this isn’t too important, but he has metal arms. I made those! Er, the updated ones, actually. Just to make sure they’re functioning like real arms and all. The prototypes were made by my mom and he was severely injured, so the surgery took a while. He and I grew really close after my parents’ divorce. He lives a few blocks down, and he has eight dogs. Don’t ask ME why, you should ask HIM. … I miss him. I hope he’s okay.”

She also has a cat named Charlie. He’s a grey ragdoll. That’s… that’s about it.

hooray for my shallow motonari headcanons with trust issues

[bonniebird]

Sons of a Thunder Storm (Part Two)

Part One

AN: Um sooo more Ragnarssons’ in modern time xD They’ll be the death of the reader

Before you’d gone to bed you showed the boys how to make breakfast and to your horror there was nothing but a huge mess left for you when you got up. “Where is everyone?” You asked Ivar who was glued to the TV.

“They went to bathe, there was noticeable concern about us leaving mess everywhere so my brothers have gone to the pond to wash.” He muttered without looking at you.

“What!” This had him looking away for a second as you hopped about putting your tatty crocks on and ran through your back garden, finding the fence had been moved so the boys could get to your neighbor's pond.

“What is she yelling about, she was upset by the mess we made last night?” Sigurd asked Ubbe who shrugged.

“She is helping us, we should be lucky Ivar hasn’t angered the gods enough to have her taken, I doubt anyone else would be willing to put so much effort into helping us understand… we should be nice.” He answered quietly and smiled widely when you came to a stop next to them.

“You… you have to get out!” You said quickly, glancing to the old lady’s house that was located near yours.

“Why?” Sigurd asked and you crouched down as they swam over to you.

“Well because this pond is not hygienist and it isn’t mine, also you broke my fence!” You hissed when the curtain on the house's window moved.

“I do not know what Hygenic is but we have taken this land for you.” Sigurd smiled and you frowned.

“No, you can’t just take land.” You groaned and sighed. Ubbe moved forward and patted your arm.

“Do not worry little one we will get you that hut for you.” He pointed at your neighbor's house and you could see her on the patio or her garden.

“No, no… if you want that house you would have to wait for her to sell it and then hope that you put in the best bid for it.” You explained, taking a deep breath as you turned away from Sigurd who hopped out and walked over to his clothes.

“But we could just go and take the house for you?” Sigurd asked and you had to roll your eyes.

“Remind me to explain what getting arrested means.” You muttered. When Ubbe got out as well you turned to avoid looking at them as they got dressed. Your elderly neighbour was stood with binoculars, mouth hung open, staring at them both. “Let’s go before she comes to ask questions!” You said shooing Sigurd and Ubbe back towards the house.

                                                          **********

After introducing the boys to your bathtub and shower, something Sigurd seemed to want to move into judging by the hour long shower he had, you started talking with Ubbe and took notes of things you needed to explain to them.

Ivar seemed to have mastered the TV and was intently watching a Criminal Minds re-run. “Where’s Hvitserk?” You asked and all three brothers looked at you.

“Oh he found a large pot of coins hidden over there and went to find food… you said we could not kill or steal our food.” Ivar added when your eyes widened.

“NO!” You shrieked and all three looked at you in confusion.

“You will not guess what I found at the shop near here!” Hvitserk declared, arms full with bags of food.

“Where. Is. The. Jar. Of. Money?” You asked slowly and Hvitserk grinned.

“I. Bought. Food.” He answered back in the same way.

“Why would you spend the emergency money!” You yelped and started to panic.

You passed by Ivar who grabbed at you and made you sit next to him. “You are being too loud I cannot hear.” He grumbled.

“Emergency money?” Hvitserk asked, smile melting from his face into a frown.

“Yes in case I have to pay a bill before I get payed.” You explain and Hvitserk looked a little heart broken.

“But I have enough food to last days!” He said excitedly, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m going to write a list and give you each a copy.” You sighed, getting your laptop from your table and sat next to Ivar on the sofa. The others quickly crowded round and Ivar started showing them some shows he found amusing.

                                                          **********

“WHAT!” Hvitserk’s appalled yell made you jump and look up from the rule list you’d been typing out.

“We most certainly did not have dragons!” Ivar scoffed and frowned at you accusingly. “Why do they wear such silly hats?”

“I don’t know, because they’re vikings?” You offered and turned your attention back to your laptop, jumping again when Ivar smacked his hand down on it and frowned. “It’s a cartoon for children… I guess it makes vikings more friendly to children?”

“We’re very friendly!” Ubbe objected and you rolled your eyes.

“Yes well… not friendly enough for kids apparently, Ivar what?” You asked when he continued to stare at you.

“This thing is being annoying.” He pulled your phone from your pocket and you snatched it back, answering the text from your boss.

“I have to go to work.” You announced as you hit print for your rules. They all turned to stare at the printer as it vibrated into life. “If I come back and the printer is broken I will lock you all outside.”

When you came back dressed for work you frowned, they were dressed and armed, waiting for you to tell them where to go. “You can’t come with me!” You said quickly and Ivar scoffed as he dragged himself over to you.

“So you can run away and betray us.” He stated and glanced at his brothers.

“Fine but you can’t talk to anyone and we need to get you new clothes so you don’t… look like you came from a weird… I don’t even know.” You grabbed Hvitserk’s sleeve and tugged him after you as you ran up the lane to your elder neighbours.

“Why are we doing this?” He asked in confusion.

“You’re going to flirt with her and asked to borrow a wheelchair, then later i’ll show you how to make her favourite cake as a thank you.” You said quickly hurrying to hide and avoid the millions of questions your nosey neighbour would want.

A few moments later he walked by with a grin, pushing the wheelchair. “She hopes Ivar feels better… it is for Ivar right?” He glanced at you as you stepped back onto the path.

“Yup, I also need to think of an excuse and somewhere for you lo to have come from… I haven’t really had time yet.” You mumbled as you both reached the house again. “Ivar this should make moving around easier.”

Ivar stared at the chair for a while before inspecting it. After showing him that there was a break to stop it rolling around he pulled himself in and grinned at you. “I will be faster than you lot.” He declared and you laughed a little.

*****

“Hey I’m sorry I’m late I have some… friends staying?” You said and smiled at your friend who stared at the four men who were stood in the doorway of the offices.

“What are they pirates?” She asked and you chuckled nervously as you hurried to your desk.

“Yeah, something like that.” You muttered and frowned when you noticed everyone giggling and staring at your boss’ office.

“There is a new boss and he is so hot!” She squealed and you rolled your eyes. “He is so friendly.”

“Ok well you swoon over the new boss, i’ll be back in just a sec.” You smiled and hurried back to the boys who were glaring at everyone.

“Are you done, can we go?” Ivar asked and you shook your head.

Handing Ubbe some money you grabbed a notepad to write a list down. “Here, you two should go and buy clothes for the four of you… buy these, ask the people and do not let them convince you to buy expensive stuff!” You said the last part firmly and Ubbe nodded, clapping you on the shoulder.

“Do not worry little woman we shall take care of it for you, we have your rule book.” He smiled and tugged Sigurd off as you took a deep breath and told yourself Ubbe was being nice and not to kick him in the shins.

“You two don’t mind waiting outside or something do you, there’s a really nice garden and it’s only two hours until lunch, and then I have a break three hours, after that and the others should be back by then.” You rambled and Hvitserk nodded. You groaned when Ivar crossed his arms and got your phone from your bag, rushing back and whispering your password in his ear as you set an alarm to go off when you had your brakes.

                                                             ***********

“We could just kill her boss and give her the work building.” Ivar muttered as he nosily scrolled through your texts.

“No, there are five pages on why we can’t kill people… here it just says Ivar must not kill anyone.” Hvitserk pointed out the line on the rule book you’d given each of them.

“I cannot kill people but here she threatens to kill a man named, ass face if he comes near her again.” He grumbled. “Odd name.”

“Ok we can go… where'd Ubbe and Sigurd?” You asked as you looked around.

“They aren’t back yet.” Hvitserk said as he got up and kicked Ivar’s breaks off for him.

“But I wrote down where to go they should have been back just after my lunch break.” You muttered as you led them towards the shopping center near your work.

After a few minutes you found Sigurd and Ubbe, bags and bags hanging off your arms as they grinned at you. “We found a pond with gold in it, I do not understand why people did not take it all.” Sigurd held up the bags and smiled. “We have many treasures.”

“You… you got the coins from the fountain?” You asked, your hand slapping against your face as you groaned.

“Yes but we got a lot of things.” Ubbe declared and tossed some of the bag and Hvitserk. “We also have enough gold to fill your emergency pot again.”

“We have to leave right now!” You hissed and rushed Hvitserk who’d stopped paying attention to Ivar and rolled him over to an ice cream store. “I have three tubs of that stuff at home please can we go!”

“I want books...!” Ivar demanded as you passed a book store.

“Do not worry brother, we found something we’ll enjoy.” You didn’t question Sigurd as he led the way to the bus stop.

Sister Wives:

@odins-missing-eye  @skywalkingdixon  @ivarthebonelesss  @princess-sweatpants @tiyetiye @synnersaint  @ivarinleatherpants  @redheadedtrollop  @float-autumn-leave @underthenorthstar @brightlycoloredteacups @wristic @dangerousvikings@jordy—9 @whenimaunicorn  @rachiieee @inthenameofodin @ivartheboneme   @raekenimages @cherrytrinkets @ivarsvalkyrie @belle-scarre @skywalkingdixon@wonderland-royalty @pokeasleepingsmaug @ceridwenofwales @synnersaint @odinsnipple @ivars-pet @wastelandsheep  @captainpoopweinersoldier @premiere-gaou  @nekodalolita@littlesnorlaxx @geminized @squirrelacorngliterfarts @mads—world  @burntmythroatskullingmytea

Vikings Tags:  @theasparagusawakens, @archer-whovian-violinist,  @cute-thingy,  @umwhatandrea, @belleorleslie, @sugakookiexx, @bluearchersstuff, @crazy-fandom-girl1, @odins-missing-eye, @delightfulnightmarecupcake, @laurel-celestial,  @penguimo10, @chirukye,  @itsall-inmy-head

[ewutai]

Yuta, 32 and 23?

drabble game: 32. walking home late at night & 23. “I know you might not think so, but you look really good right now.” + song rec

If it goes, it comes| YUTA

Genre: royalty!au| the greatest thief!reader | 100% fluff

Pairing: Yuta / Reader

Word Count: 2 327 it’s longer than i wanted i am sorry!!!

A/N: Thank you so much I am B L E S S E D. I love writing with Yuta lmao guess why and I really hope you like it!!

It was obvious when someone fromthe Royal Family appeared in town. The scentof their skin was pretty much different from the plebeians around, you couldfeel it; their bodies emanated an aura you weren’t able to describe – and evenknew if there were words to tell how magnificent those people’s presence was.You wondered if they indeed felt empathy and sympathy by the commoners;considering they were so untouchable – and not very modest – you really doubtedthat the nobles could at least feel something.

You shrugged the thoughts away,sliding your hands in your pockets – inside the jacket you were wearing – and inyour bra, looking for any sort of equipment that could help you in yourmission. The important thing in the moment was concentration, as you had to accomplish your task and receive youresteemed prize. Earlier in the morning a note was delivered to you, a simplerequest written with the most perfect handwriting you had ever seen. Your eyesstared at the paper for a moment, while you read

Steal the Prince’s new crown; it’s on the ‘Masquerade Jewelry ’, in thecenter of the city. If you succeed, you get six hundred coins. Leave it in thedocks and soon you’ll have the money.

You smirked, asking yourself how someonecould be vigorously reckless like that. Anyhow, six hundred coins was a lot of money and could be pretty muchwelcomed. You pondered for some minutes, deciding if the pros and cons could bebalanced somehow; merchants knew you, and also knew you parents, which meantthat they’d never distrust on you. Adding to that, the Masquerade Jewelrybelonged to someone close to you – a long distant sibling, you’d define – and stealingthe Prince Nakamoto Yuta’s crown would be as easy as kiss a hand.

The endless search for a deviceended when you realized that you could simply use your hair clip to open theemporium’s back door. You took the black object of your hair, causing somestrands to fall down onto your forehead and the back of your neck. You blewthem away from your face, cleaning your vision and finally opening theentrance.

Your gaze moved from one side toanother, examining every single corner of the room. It’s easy to tell where thejeweler kept his works – and also where the most important pieces of hiscreations were. You smiled at their silliness, mostly at the Queen and King’s.Why, in all earth, would they order a crown right there; would ask to someone with doubtful security and extremelycheap budget to do such a delicate work?

And that’s when you got thepoint.

Loudly, your laugh echoed on theroom. You crossed your arms and began to put things together, like it was apuzzle. The handwriting was tooperfect to be just a gangster or a pirate who did, the place where they wanted you to be was a common ambient for bourgeoisor anyone else who wanted cheap bijou, and, of course, the amount of coins you’d receive was too generous to be from a simplethief. It was a test, after all.

You asked yourself if it was somenoble who tricked you, or even if it was you father investigating your actions.You snorted; whoever it was, they almost gotyou.

From all matters, you left theplace, calmly walking out and reaching the streets like nothing happened. Youreyes, although, noticed all sorts of movements – by your side, in front andbehind you – capturing every person’s face around. The smile on your facepermeated for a long time, the thought of getting caught and fooled made yourheart race; the percentage of adrenalin in your blood increasing at the sametime your will to unmask the person who sent you the note grew in your chest.

But suddenly you were cut off ofyour daydreams when your body clashed with someone else’s.

An arm embraced your waist,stopping you from falling. “Careful.”

You gazed the boy, his scent was unquestionable. “I apologize,your Majesty.”

“Are you all right?” He asked; his touchleaving your body.

“Yes, of course.” You kindlysmiled.

And then you waited. You waitedfor an order, for him to allow you to leave; though he didn’t. You blinkedrepetitively in a vain attempt to clean your vision and be sure you weren’t hallucinating. Actually, you werecompletely sane.

His gaze was extremely deep andyou could tell he was reading you, maybe even disturbing your worst fears. Youshook your head, glaring the surroundings, looking at the people in the fairsaround – and definitely trying to ignore the royal presence in front of you. Asmall cough echoed in your ears, bringing your gaze back to the boy’s eyes. Hedidn’t say anything, but his bodyguard did.

The man held the sword-hilt. “Iguess she is the one, your Majesty.”

You chocked. “What do you mean,sir?”

“He means you’re a thief.” Theboy said.

Internally you were laughing,your muscles contracting violently while you held the will to giggle.Externally, although, you put a startled expression on your face; you showedthem how upset you were to be called a thief. The Prince gently held your hand,as an apology for his unkind words.

It’s not that you really wantedto be a thief; it’s more like a rebel phase of your life. Your parents keptsaying how much they were happy with their money and how good it was to be nearly a noble. You, on the other hand,felt disgusted by those comments, only wondering what would happened with thepoorest part of the reign, where people didn’t have the money to buy even asmall bread. And that’s when you started stealing.

You’d go for small things atfirst, like rings or earrings, and then exchange them for gold bars in otherdistrict of the kingdom – where no one were aware of what has been stolen inother cities. When you had the gold, you’d go at banks and change them tocoins, so you could finally help the humblest people.

And six hundred coins were theequivalent of stealing an entire collection of silver tableware.

“We didn’t mean to offend you.”The Prince’s voice called you back to reality; the smile he sent you killingyou inside.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Ididn’t feel offended, Prince Yuta.”

“I also apologize, milady.” Thebodyguard said, his voice tone showing sincerity.

You nodded your head. They weredistracted by the small conversation and that was the moment when you got thechance to not leave with empty hands. A long time ago, in one of the villas youvisited, you heard a story about the Prince Yuta’s golden bracelet. It was wortha million coins, and it could make anyone rich enough to leave the realm and become a noble in any other regality.You smirked, your perception too great to be true.

All you needed was a biggerdistraction.

“Oh, wait a minute.” You said; yourvoice velvety and addicting. Both of the personas in front of you held theirgaze on your figure. “You mean you thought I was the girl who ran away fromthat jewelry?” You released your wrists from Yuta’s hold, then pointing out toMasquerade.

Instinctively, the bodyguard ran.He knew what he had to do: catch the thief. The Prince, however, remained byyour side, only watching his subordinate disappears into the crowd. You tiltedyour head, contemplating which the best manner to steal the aimed object was;with a better vision of where the bracelet was, you became sure it’d be easierthan expected. The jewel had a simple tie holding it together and securing itonto Yuta’s wrists.

Nevertheless, there’s always a but. The Prince Nakamoto Yuta wasinvincible; he knew all types of martial arts and could effortlessly defeat agirl like you. And, on top of all that, no one should know you were the oneabducting people’s belongings.

It should be smooth and graceful,so he wouldn’t perceive something was missing – not so soon.

You sighed. “If you excuse me,Prince.” You slightly tilted your head, mentioning you’d leave.

“Ah, wait!” He held your arm –exactly what you wanted. “Can’t you wait until my bodyguard is back?”

“I thought you were a warrior, Prince.” You voice tone was accusative,but you required his attention. When he had eyes on you, it’s time to act.

You softly positioned your handon top of his hand joint, and then gradually squeezed it; like this, Yuta wouldnot feel when the bracelet was no longer with him. You pulled it, making sureyour hands replaced the pressure the golden bracelet exercised. When your touchleft his body and you had the jewel on your palm, it was time to go – it’d nottake too long to realize that it was just a trick and Prince Yuta had beenstole.

You grinned. “I am joking. But unfortunatelyI have to go.” You turned on your heels, suddenly vanishing of his eyesight.

Yuta’s pace was controlled; thespeed of his steps was so regular that it looked like he was calculating it. Hesighed, blaming himself for being assaulted. Even if it’d been weeks, he’d walkaround the palace’s garden asking how he could let his viewpoint ignored justbecause the girl in front of him was… deadly beautiful.

He yelled, angry with hismisperception.

And you heard when you cautiouslyclimbed the palace’s walls. You were overwhelmed by these noble’s confidence,they weren’t afraid of anything and anyone but what they didn’t seemed to know,though, was that the borders isolating the castle from the center of the citywas, to define in some words, completely unsafe and indisputably week. If you,someone whom doesn’t even have a clue of how to place a hand and a foot whileclimbing, could make it then anyone – a grand thief, you’d say – can accomplishit, easily.

You had pants on, and they gotscratched by the spikes on the wall. Also, to say the least, you found amusinghow you could transform yourself from presentable to total disaster. Yousighed, soon being brought back to reality when you spotted the Prince walking,alone, in the garden.

With fast steps, and trying tocontain the noises of your feet, you reached Yuta and put a hand on his mouth.His reaction, thought, was as fast as your attitude, and he grabbed your wrist,twisted your arm, obligating you to be on your knees. You held the scream onyour throat, swallowing all the pain.

“Was it all needed?” You managedto say and Yuta laughed.

He let go of you. “You are completelyreckless. I am calling the–”

“You are not calling the guards.”You put a finger on his face and – you were surprised – he smiled.

“It’s pretty brave, I have toadmit.” Yuta shrugged his shoulders. “But, sweetheart,it’s my territory.”

You smirked. “The street alsowas, and you got fooled still.”

He scoffed. “Smartass.”

“Anyway, I came to give it back.”You handed him a small jewel; a golden bracelet.

“Why?” He asked, not believing inyou.

You tilted your head. “It meanssomething to you, doesn’t it?”

He didn’t answer. Prince NakamotoYuta wasn’t a true blood son; his mother was a servant and his father was theKing. He was nothing but a bastard, but few people knew. You were one of thembecause you had ears everywhere, as you were a bandit anyway. The Queen allowedhim to stay just because she couldn’t develop a healthy pregnancy, sent thetraitor servant to another kingdom and then sort of ‘adopted’ Yuta as her son.

She didn’t hate him, it wascrystal clear, but she also didn’t love him like a child of her own. His realmother gave him the bracelet, and you felt you heart breaking into piecesbecause you stole from him more than an object, a memory.

“I am sorry.” You said; you voicesounded like a whisper. You cleaned the part of your pants that touched the ground,taking the dust away, and started walking to the colossal tower you’d have toclimb again.

But a hand on your shoulder heldyou back. “Stay, just for a minute.” Yuta politely asked and you couldn’t sayno.

You never imagined you’d bewalking a prince home, especiallyYuta. Obviously, you heard the stories about his temper and how rude he waswith people out of his league but it felt unreal.He was kind with you and explained why he became a prince, even against hiswill, when he could visit his real mother and how the other servants treatedhim like a god. You, too, felt like sharing some parts of your own story.

The reason behind your attitudesseemed futile for you, because you were just imitating Robin Hood and trying todo the difference, but Yuta kept smiling at your words, complimenting your actsnotwithstanding if was against the laws.

“I’ve got something to say.” Hesaid.

“Say it, your Majesty.” Youmocked him.

Instead of feeling peeved, Yutasmiled. “It looks like I’ve known you my entire life.”

“Well” you sighed “I have acommon personality, I guess.”

He laughed. “No, I don’t thinkyou do.”

“Well, maybe a common fa–” youshook your head. “No, let’s not talk about looks today. I am a disaster, yourMajesty, so I apologize.” You bowed, joking with Yuta’s position (of a veryimportant persona).

“I know you might not think so,but you look really good right now.” He smiled. “Even with the dust in yourcheeks.”

And you didn’t know whatsurprised you the most: his words, his deadly smile or the odd sentiment that youtwo would share lots of stories together.

[writingpug-blog]

Peter Pan (ouat) x Reader - A Little Fall Of Rain

A/N I'm back again with another Les Miserables inspired story. It is really similar to my Mr. Gold story, but I still decided to write this one. I used the song "A little fall of rain" that Marius and Eponine sing in the musical at the end of this story. It's recommendable to listen to it before or as you read the part (when Peter begins with bloody hell) since it might not make any sense if you read it as if they weren't singing. The link to my preferable version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5aW8Cpwy3_s I did change a few parts of the lyrics so it would fit Peter's character a bit more, but not too much.

Summary: Pirates arrive at Neverland and Pan declares war, but you make a terrible mistake.

WARNING: Major character death

wordcount: 2455

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

You stumbled through the forest as fast as you possibly could. Your hands pressed the hem of your coat closed to hide the wounds you’d received minutes ago. Did Peter and the Lost Boys tell you about the situation? Yes. Did they also tell you to not go near it at any time? Yes. Did that stop you from going? Of course not. A few days ago, a group of pirates appeared on the Neversea and stranded on the island. After he discovered them, Peter decided to pay the unwanted arrivals a visit to find out what they were doing here. They claimed to have accidentally been teleported to the wrong realm and said they needed a few days to work out a plan to get off the island. Peter wasn’t planning on letting them leave the island as no one leaves without his permission, but since he thought it would be quite entertaining, he let them remain on Neverland for the time being as they most likely wouldn’t last a few days here. He kept a close eye on the group as he expected to find their corpses anytime soon, but after following them for a few days, he discovered the real reason why they came to the island. As two crewmembers thought no one was listening, Peter watched as they discusses their captain’s plan to take over Neverland and kill off all its inhabitants. Not liking being lied to, Peter killed off the two pirates and returned to the camp where he told us to prepare for war. Everyone immediately started making weapons, preparing traps and think of ways to outsmart the pirates. You were about to start preparing yourself when Peter walked over to you. “Do you have a moment love?” You nodded and followed him. He placed his hand around your waist as he led you to his tent and held the cloth up for you to enter. After Peter went in, you turned around to see he held a far more serious look in his face way than usual. “Tomorrow night, when we leave to hunt down the intruders, I want you to stay here.” Your dropped your jaw in disbelieve. How could he say that after everything that happened? You took part in every adventure the boys went on, but now that some silly pirates showed up, you weren’t allowed to? “What?! Why?!” “It’s too dangerous. These pirates are skilled and will kill everyone who gets in their way.” You crossed your arms and glared into his green orbs. He let out an irritated sigh before grabbing your arm and pulling you further into the room, making sure no one could hear the conversation. “Of course we’ll win this fight, but I can’t guarantee everyone’s safety. Not everyone may return to the camp and I don’t want you to be one of them.” His eyes were deeply focussed onto yours and his eyebrows increased the power of his fierce look. Still, you weren’t ready to give up yet. “I know how to fight, Peter. Please just let me come with you.” “I don’t want to lose you (Y/n).” There was an awkward silence. You didn’t want to respond as you were still upset about the fact that you couldn’t join the fight, but you didn’t want to hurt Peter either. You’d do anything for him, even if that meant staying behind while the others went to battle. “Promise me you’ll stay here.” He spoke with a stern look. You sighed. “I promise.” The next day everyone started preparing for the war that was about to begin. You tagged along with Peter throughout the morning before he gathered the group and explained the plan. “Alright boys and girl, after sunset we’ll pay our uninvited guests a visit they will not forget. It’s important to stay sharp and follow my commands. Therefore, no one is allowed to leave camp unless I say so.” Whilst saying the last sentence, he gazed over to you. You sighed and rolled your eyes before he continued. “All boys under 14 will be using bow and arrow and shoot from their hiding spots in the trees while all boys age 14 and up will beat the pirates at the battleground. (Y/n) will stay behind to protect the camp in case some of our enemies show up. We’ll show them no one enters and takes over Neverland without a challenge.” The lost boys all started cheering before they continued preparing for the battle that was ahead of them. You walked over to Peter who just finished discussing something with Felix and turned as you neared him. He pulled a devilish smile as you stopped in front of him and crossed your arms in front of you. “I’m impressed.” You teased. “What, by my good looks?” You rolled your eyes and Peter started to laugh. “O come on, I know you love it.” You chuckled and wrapped your arms around him as he mimicked your actions. “Don’t you have a war to prepare?” You said softly. “Pan.” The two of you turned your heads to Felix who was standing a few feet away. He had a serious look on his face, telling you he wasn’t here for a jolly chat. Peter let go of you and smirked. “What’s the news Felix?” “We need your opinion on where we should place our traps.” Felix said without moving even the tiniest bit. Peter nodded and turned to you with a wink before following Felix. You walked away and thought of an activity to help you spend your time. Now that everyone was busy preparing themselves, there wasn’t that much for you to do. As you walked through the camp, you looked over at the entrance of the forest. The Pirates were probably at the beach where their ship washed ashore. You were curious if the pirates knew about the war that was going to take place this evening. That’s when an idea struck you. You looked around to find out everyone was minding their own business, meaning no one was watching you. If Peter were to know about the Pirates’ plans, it would definitely give the Lost Boys an advantage tonight. Even though you were told to not leave the camp, going on a short trip to investigate the enemy and return as soon as possible wouldn’t hurt a fly, right? After making sure no one was watching you, you sneaked out of camp and made way to the shore. It took a little longer than expected since Peter was the only one who knew the Pirates’ location, but you finally noticed a big ship ahead which was stranded on the beach. You neared it through the forest and quickly hid behind a bush before watching as the pirates were sharpening their swords. “Get those swords clean an’ sharp lads! Everything needs to be ready as we invade their camp tomorrow!” A man yelled who was wearing a long, heavy coat and you assumed he was the captain of the ship. He kicked one of the pirates, who lost his balance and fell with his face in the sand, as he walked through the group. “Those children will be screamin’ for their parents as we show ‘em the real power of a pirate!” He kept hitting a few more pirates as he continued mumbling about how they were going to get rid of us and takeover Neverland once and for all. They all laughed and cheered at the captain’s statement, some even dropped themselves on their back and wrapped their arms around their waist whilst laughing. You watched as the crew drove to madness until.. “There’s a girl hiding in the bushes!” Your breath got caught up in your throat as you turned your eyes towards the pirate who stood a few feet away from the group and signed directly towards your hiding spot. You slowly rose onto your feet and watched as the crew looked at you, most of them caught by surprise. “Don’t let her get away!” Your eyes widened as everyone immediately grabbed their nearby weapon and pointed at you. You heard multiple gunshots and tried to dodge it by turning to the side and run away. As you turned, an inhumanly amount of pain hit your chest and you fell down on your knee, grunting in pain as the multiple shot wounds started to sting intensively. Knowing they’d only hurt you even more if you remained on the ground, you hurriedly got onto your feet and ran away as fast as possible. As you ran, you heard multiple cries and another couple of shots coming from behind you which, thank heavens, missed their target as you fled into the familiar jungle. The voices slowly dimmed as the last thing you heard was their captain telling them to hold fire. “Let her be! She’ll probably not make it halfway through the forest, let alone back to her group!” You dared not to look behind as you feared some might be chasing you. You grabbed the hems of your coat and pressed them together firmly to keep the view of the blooded battlefield on your chest from your sight. You had to get back to Peter. It took a long time before you neared the camp. The sun was already setting, giving the island a more flaming and mischievous look, and soon the boys would leave and make way to the beach. Your body was getting exhausted from the pain and the running and your speed decreased intensively until you were walking by the time you reached camp. Everyone was busy gathering their last equipment and hurriedly walked from one side of the camp to the other. Peter was standing in the middle, making sure everyone wasn’t making any mistakes and watched with Felix as a couple of older lost boys did some last minute practice. Felix seemed uninterested in the training and looked away until his eyes, which turned from boredom to concern in one second, met yours. “Pan.” He said loudly. Peter looked at him with a questioning gaze and followed his eyes until he too met yours. His gaze widened and everything went silent as you noticed everyone had stopped their actions and watched you as you stumbled past the tents. Peter signed everyone to leave and walked over to you when the Lost Boys had disappeared, grabbing your arms firmly as he reached you. “Bloody hell, what are you doing! (Y/n), have you no fear? I told you not to go there! Why didn’t you stay here?” He released your arms and checked the surroundings to make sure no one was watching. You placed your hand on his chest while the other one kept your coat shut and looked into his green eyes. "Wanted to help, so I left. I saw the pirates at the shore. They will strike tomorrow.. I-I don't think I can stand anymore..." Your feet collapsed underneath you and you crashed into Peter's chest. He caught you in his arms and the both of you slid down onto the ground. "(Y/N), what's wrong? There's something wet upon your hair." He brushed his hand through your hair and a stray of blood left its mark on his hand. "(Y/n) you're hurt! You need some help-" He noticed your hand which held your coat closed and removed it. He swung the coat open and a wave of worry and fear washed over his face. "Oh God, it's everywhere!" You looked down and noticed your whole shirt was soaked in your blood. Peter desperately started looking around and called for Felix. Within a few seconds he appeared from the jungle and looked at Pan while keeping his head low. "Get water from the spring!" Felix nodded and left the area. Peter watched as Felix left and turned his face to you when you weakly grabbed his hand and smiled. "Don't you fret, my dear Peter Pan. I don't feel any pain. A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now." Your hand trilled as you placed it on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his face burn against your cold skin. "You're here. That's all I need to know. And you will keep me safe. And you will keep me close. And rain will make the flowers grow." You became light headed and you felt like you were about to faint when Peter pressed your back against his chest firmly, keeping you awake. “But you will live (Y/n), dear God above. Felix will be here soon, just hold on love.” “Just hold me now and let it be. Shelter me, comfort me.” He pulled you into a tight hug and you clenched onto his arm, enjoying every last moment of him. You wished this moment would last forever, that you could remain in his embrace for eternity while everything around you would stop. Peter rested his chin on your temple as you noticed his shaking breathing underneath the whispering. “You would live a hundred years if I could show you how. Please, don’t desert me now…” “The rain can’t hurt me now. This rain will wash away what’s past. And you will keep me safe, and you will keep me close. I’ll sleep in your embrace at last!” “No-“ “The rain that brings you here is heaven blessed. The skies begin to clear and I’m at rest.” You looked up to see Peter was fighting hard to hold back his emotions. His eyes started to tear up as they shot his concern straight into your orbs. You furrowed.“A breath away from where you are… I’ve come home from so far.” You felt a shot of pain through your chest and took a sharp breath. Peter pressed you firmly against him. “So don’t you fret, my dear Peter pan. I don’t feel any pain. A little fall of rain can hardy hurt me now.” “I’m here.” You smiled. “T-that’s all I need t-to know.” You said before weakly placing your hand back onto his cheek. “And you will keep me safe… And you will keep me close… And rain..” “And rain.” Peter whispered as tears rolled down his face. “W-will make the flowers.-“ You both said. You tried with all the energy you had left to lift yourself up to close the gap between you and Peter. You both closed your eyes as you neared him but right before your lips could touch, your body fell back onto his lap and relaxed. You dwelled off into a never ending sleep, leaving Peter alone with your lifeless body as you heard his voice one last time. “…Grow.”

[hazzilyeverafter-onepiece]

It’s Not That Simple (Chapter 11)

Hello again everyone! Enjoy Chapter 11.

Summary:

Zoro and Sanji are fighting.And that’s not really a surprise, exactly, because Zoro and Sanji are always fighting. But it’s different, this time.This time, it’s not physical, and Sanji isn’t up in Zoro’s face yelling and screaming and calling him names. There’s no swiping of polished katanas against the lithe swing of powerful legs. It’s not physical combat.This time, Sanji’s fighting with silent avoidance and quiet resignation. This time, their entire nakamaship may be on the line.And this time, Zoro doesn’t know how to fight back.ORThere’s something wrong with Sanji, but Zoro doesn’t know what it is or why it’s happened – why they’ve suddenly stopped brawling and hating each other left, right and centre. All he knows is that he has to fix it, or this Sanji – the Sanji that’s sunken and tired and so, so sad - may never go away.

Read it on AO3!

Now, the Straw Hats have a pretty intimidating reputation in the New World – Zoro knows.

He also knows that the name Roronoa Zoro has terrifying connotations – that it isn’t a name to be uttered freely or taken lightly, that the man behind it should never be underestimated, that the words following his name generally include ‘aggressive’, ‘ruthless’, ‘feared’, ‘killer’, ‘demon’ and sometimes even ‘devilishly handsome’, if he’s lucky.

…Okay, so he made one of those up.

But still, his point still stands.

To the wider public, he’s fierce, an unstoppable force with a mind of steel and a heart that’s missing. He’s unbreakable, an anchor for the rest of the crew, a rock to lean on in a sea that rages on, and on, and on.

And for the most part, they’re not wrong. He is strong. He is merciless. He is somebody who should never be taken lightly.

He is devilishly handsome. (He’s read it in the papers. All the girls say so. Too bad he’s not into girls, and instead has a strange fascination for complexity in life and giving himself thought-migraines and non-symmetrical eyebrows and men who fancy padded suits. He might be broken.)

So, they’re not wrong at all. But he also has a ridiculously soft side that only those on board the Sunny ever have the privilege of seeing and interacting with; a side of lounging on deck snoring loudly enough to be heard from the crow’s nest, of walking in circles for a good twenty minutes around a ship he should be long familiarised with but somehow isn’t, of petting reindeer and catching fish and wearing Hawaiian shirts on warm, sunny days. Of giving his captain piggy back rides when he wants them and striking ‘team attack poses’ with Franky not dissimilar to his ‘Pirate Docking’ stunt and getting harassed and punched repeatedly by a woman he could easily beat to a pulp if he wanted to.

Of spending valuable time in the galley watching Sanji cook, after sneakily peeking his head around the corner of the doorframe to find he has already been forgiven by the lack of a slammed door and a broken nose.

So yeah, he has a softer, more human side – but only when he’s surrounded by the people he knows he can trust with his life, who he knows he can let his guard down around and who really, when everything trivial is stripped away, are not so different from him.

Not so different at all.

And so, he’s sitting at the island separating the kitchen from the galley, thinking it all through – when this all happened and how strange it is that he hadn’t really noticed before now, hadn’t noticed himself slipping into this more peaceful and content persona, but he finds he doesn’t really care.

If he lets himself be honest, it’s actually quite nice.

“Hey, mossy.”

“Hmm?” He lifts his head out of his arms, and rubs his cheek that’s no doubt red and full of fold-lines from being pressed to his sleeve for so long.

When his eyes finally focus on the man leaning on the counter in front of him, he finds that Sanji’s wearing a gentle, amused smile that lifts the corners of his lips just enough to be noticeable, and his eyes are exuding an exasperated yet endeared expression that Zoro finds he can’t look at for too long. It blinds him, a little.

He averts his gaze, and sees that Sanji’s wearing his signature ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron, spotted with a few dots of water from the sink, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and top two buttons of his dress shirt undone.

Dressed in his usual attire, he looks magical.

“How do you feel about helping me out for once, instead of just sitting here snoozing and drooling all over my counter?”

Zoro snaps his gaze away from the collarbones he can see peeking out from under Sanji’s shirt, indignant and slightly offended because he doesn’t drool, thank-you-very-much, he’s a perfectly dignified sleeper with perfectly dignified habits.

He opens his mouth to tell Sanji exactly this, but Sanji interrupts him with an eyeroll before he can get a word in sideways. “Yeah, yeah, you don’t drool. Keep telling yourself that, and who knows, maybe one day it’ll come true.”

Zoro pretends to be offended, very much a lot, thanks, because how rude of him to say such a thing, but secretly he’s quite pleased that their relationship has developed to the point where they can practically read each other’s minds.

He parrots back at Sanji, “yeah yeah, keep rolling your eyes, curly-brow, maybe you’ll find a brain back there!”

He’s not sure if Sanji recognises where Zoro copied that comeback from, but the outraged squawk Sanji lets out and the shove that sends Zoro falling off his chair is a satisfying reaction all the same.

He lets out a startled laugh when his butt comes into contact with the floor, before quickly picking himself up and sending an exaggeratedly betrayed expression in Sanji’s direction, who’s pointing at him in delight as he cackles rather madly. “God, your face-“

Zoro huffs, tries to push his lips down where they’re rebelliously tilting up at the corners, and turns his back on the cook in what he refuses to admit is a flounce, making to exit the galley with his dignity still very-much-intact, because he’s being the bigger man here, dammit, when Sanji reaches over the island and bunches the back of his shirt firmly in his grasp.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” he placates innocently, mirth still evident in his voice, “you started it.”

Actually, Zoro wants to point out, I didn’t start it, I haven’t touched a hair on your silky blonde head –  it’s not my fault that you have violent tendencies, geez, but he doesn’t because Sanji’s still grinning at him with eyes that twinkle like stars, and Zoro wants to stay.

So he does, settling into the seat again with a small shake of his head, and thinks that the pleased grin Sanji sends him is enough to convince him to stay for a long time coming; for as long as Sanji wants.

“Now, about that help,” Sanji starts, and suddenly his voice carries an edge of mania; Zoro thinks not for the first time that Nami is not a good influence. “How do you feel about peeling potatoes?”

Zoro doesn’t really understand why that would be even remotely horrible, so he shrugs and follows Sanji to the storage room. It’s not until Sanji starts hauling a bag of potatoes the size of a small mountain back to the kitchen that Zoro realises, with no small amount of horror, that he may have made a grave mistake.

(Sometimes he momentarily forgets that their crew of nine can consume the food of a rather large army in a third of the time, but alas, he does not have the luxury of forgetting for long.)

Sanji, noticing Zoro’s reluctance, raises an eyebrow. “Still coming?”

Zoro grunts, and sees the challenge for what it is. He grins exaggeratedly wide, and wonders if some of the mania is in his eyes, too. He thinks his molars are showing. “Of course, shit-cook. Nothing pleases me more than peeling potatoes.”

He then proceeds to shoulder past Sanji and into the kitchen, and if he stumbles over Sanji’s conveniently placed foot on the way, well. He probably deserves it.

xxx

“How’re you going with the potatoes, mosshead?”

“Fine,” Zoro grits out, adding another peeled potato to the ever-growing pile.

Sanji laughs breezily from where he’s standing over the pots and pans on the stove. It’s a laugh that positively radiated I’m-calling-bullshit, but Zoro refuses to be cowered by some spuds. That would certainly be a new low.

“Still enjoying yourself?”

He slams the next potato down with a little more force than perhaps necessary, and plasters the most genuine grin on his face that he can manage. He’s not sure it turns out all that well. “Of course.”

If Sanji’s unsettled by his expression, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he just smirks and moves closer with even more unpeeled potatoes. “Good,” he says, dumping them all at Zoro’s feet. “I’m doing you a favour, then.”

He has the audacity to wink as he turns away, and Zoro seriously considers lobbing the next potato at the back of his stupid attractive head.

He doesn’t, though. He tries to tamper down the heat rising to his cheeks and the smile rising to his lips, instead.

xxx

Lunch is full of potato-centred dishes that Zoro suspects Sanji only makes to explain why he put Zoro through all of his earlier suffering, despite Sanji’s adamant denial when Zoro probes. Lies. Zoro knows that when Sanji flutters his eyelashes and softens his voice to say of course all 100 potatoes were necessary, mossball, don’t be silly and eat your food like a good boy, hm? he’s being patronised, but Zoro finds it hard to remain angry when Sanji immediately follows his words up by running his fingers gently through Zoro’s hair as he walks away, long fingers catching softly in slight tangles, dropping his hand to squeeze his shoulder lightly before he moves into the kitchen to bring out the rest of the food.

Zoro ignores the curious glances the rest of the crew send him, and thankfully, they don’t ask. He focusses his attention on the food, and finds that as usual, it’s delicious.

He appreciates it on a whole new level now, after his own fiasco in the kitchen. He knew cooking was a talent beforehand, obviously, but he never truly understood the difficulty of it until he tried it himself.

Being a chef is hard. And being a successful one is definitely something to be proud of.

“Sanji, these curly fries are so good!” comes Chopper’s squeal of delight as Sanji finally sets down the last few plates on the table.

“Hmmm,” Zoro mumbles in agreement, throwing a few more into his mouth while there’s still some left, “they remind me of your eyebrows.”

The feeling of his foot being crushed into the ground under the table is worth it for the groan that tears its way almost painfully from Sanji’s throat. “God, I hate you.”

Zoro grins, and kicks Sanji lightly under the table with his other foot. “No, you don’t.”

Sanji looks up at him, and shakes his head slowly. Smiles, eyes soft.

“No, I don’t.”

xxx

After lunch, Chopper pleads with them all to play something with him. It’s Luffy that suggests Limbo, probably because he makes the miscalculation that being made of rubber is enough for him to win.

Zoro thinks Luffy may have forgotten that they have a reindeer literally a foot tall and a cook who can bend in half on the crew.

He snorts, but helps tie the rope from the mast to the railing anyway, and settles against the mast ready to watch some live entertainment.

“What, Zoro, you’re not playing??” Chopper pouts, and Zoro shakes his head.

He’s not going to win, he may as well admit it, so what’s the point of making himself look stupid?

He lets out a surprised oof when he feels something soft and furry collide with his chest, and looks down to see Chopper clinging to him with huge moist eyes. “Pleaseee?”

Zoro, as usual, relents.

He needs to learn how to say no to cute things.

Sighing, he gets up, and begins to untie his three katana from his waist.

Chopper cheers, before running back over to stand with Luffy and Usopp, who are contorting into strange and rather alarming shapes with serious expressions on their faces.

Franky and Brook are no better, standing a little further away and stretching rather obscenely if Zoro does say so himself, and he can hear the occasional “Yohohoho!” and “Yeow! SUPER!” drifting over from whatever disturbing conversation they’re probably having.

He doesn’t notice Sanji sidling up to him until he’s nudged by a bony elbow. He turns to face him, and notices Sanji’s taken off his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves back up again. “Can’t believe you agreed to play, marimo,” he teases. “Chopper really is your soft spot, huh?”

Zoro wonders whether it would be appropriate to mention that Chopper’s not as much Zoro’s soft spot as Sanji is. Probably not. He keeps his mouth shut, and chooses to hum non-committedly instead.

“Is there a prize, or am I playing for nothing?” Robin inquires calmly from his other side. Zoro shrugs.

Surprisingly, it’s Nami who answers her question.

“Since I’m feeling especially generous today,” she smirks, teeth turning pointy, “the winner will receive 10,000 Beri from me.”

Zoro grunts. How pointless. He’s never going to win, so the prize money will never be his. Not that he could have kept it anyway – he’s still got that ridiculous debt he owes her, that he swears she increases the amount of every time he asks.

Still. The deal is too good to be true – Nami never gives away money, so he wonders what the catch is.

“But,” she continues, and ah, there it is, “the one who comes last has to double the debt they owe me!” Her eyes turn to Beri signs, and drool starts to pool in her open mouth. Zoro would mention the irony of the drool to Sanji, but the feeling of betrayal reaches him first.

Why, that witch! She knows he’s horribly inflexible and probably going to lose, and he also owes the second largest debt to her after Luffy, so she no doubt set the rules just to spite him!

He’s just about to march over there and tell her to take it back, dammit, and stop being so cruel when a steady hand circles around his upper arm and prevents him from moving.

“You are going to stay here and agree with Nami-san, mosshead,” Sanji breathes calmly into his ear, “or I swear I will kick your sorry ass all the way back to Skypeia.”

Sanji sounds serious, and this more than anything is what sets Zoro off. He swallows back the bitter hurt that surfaces, because what exactly is surprising? He’s always known that Sanji adores Nami – that’s just common knowledge, long accepted as truth, and he shouldn’t challenge it. But he wants to, wants to scream in Sanji’s face it’s me or her, it’s not fair that you get both, but what’s the point? He knows who Sanji would choose already. So he clings to the anger, instead.

“Oh, fuck off,” he snaps back, and wrenches his arm out of Sanji’s grip. “You know her second rule is targeted at me, you just don’t give a shit because she’s always been your favourite!”

Then he’s storming towards her, angry beyond words not just because of her proposal but also because he hates that she doesn’t appreciate Sanji anywhere near enough, but is also still everything Sanji wants. He hates it, and he wishes that it didn’t hurt as much as it does knowing Sanji will always take her side, will always like her more, will always choose her over Zoro.

It’s bullshit, and Zoro knows it’s not her fault, not really, but he doesn’t really care either because right now he just needs to yell at somebody. He wants somebody to blame, because if he doesn’t blame somebody then he’ll be forced to admit that nobody’s to blame, that it’s just life, that it’s just the hand of cards he was dealt and he’ll have to deal with it, no matter how shit the cards are.

Because they’re pretty shit, aren’t they?

He’s almost reached her, hands clenched into fists and breathing too fast, when he feels a dress shoe connect heavily with his back. He’s sent sprawling across deck, and it’s not really a super hard kick, exactly, nowhere near hard enough to send him back to Skypeia, but it makes him so bitter and shaken and furious that in a split second he’s jumped back up and is charging at Sanji.

It’s probably the fact that he doesn’t have his swords that throws Sanji off, because he doesn’t move out of the way quick enough before Zoro’s shoulder comes into contact with his chest and they’re both sent tackling to the floor.

Zoro lands more or less on top of him, and he doesn’t waste time before grabbing Sanji by the collar and shaking him, shaking and shaking and shaking so that Sanji’s head is lolling about, but then Sanji’s rolling them around so that he’s the one on top and when did Zoro become the one who was shaking?

“What is wrong with you?” Sanji hisses, but he sounds rather concerned. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but you’re acting strange.” He grips Zoro’s shoulders, frowning when he notices the trembling. “Why are you shaking? Are you sick? Maybe you should lie down for a bit-“

“No,” Zoro swallows around the growing lump in his throat, and tries to calm his breathing. “I’m fine.”

He clears his throat, letting go of Sanji’s shirt and ignoring the fact he’s wrinkled it rather badly before shoving Sanji off. Confused, Sanji lets him, and Zoro stands and moves away quickly before Sanji can catalogue too much of his expression. He’s confident that he’s showing too much on his face, and he’s so scared, terrified beyond belief, that Sanji will get one good long look at his face and know.

And Zoro can’t afford that, so he walks back to the rest of the group who are standing stock still as they gape at him. It’s a small mercy that they weren’t close enough to hear his conversation with Sanji.

He shrugs, as nonchalantly as possible, raising what he hopes is a carefree eyebrow. “Limbo?”

“Um,” Nami hesitates, glancing at him with a slightly guilty expression, “sure. And because I’m feeling very incredibly generous today,” smiles, and Zoro notes the lack of Beri signs in her eyes, “I’ve decided whoever loses only has to increase their debt to me by 50%!”

Zoro sends a ghost of a smile back, appreciating her effort, and feels a little bad that he made her feel responsible for his outburst. If only it were as simple as a debt, though. If only.

He feels Sanji saunter up to his side again, but neither of them say a word.

Robin watches them with a calculating gaze, and it makes Zoro feel slightly nauseous because what if she knows?

“Would you still like to play, swordsman-san?”

He shrugs, and tries to act natural. “Sure, why not?”

Robin tilts her head slightly but drops it, and so it’s in this tense sort of limbo (hah) that the game begins. They line up, Luffy and Chopper at the front, and one by one they make their way under the rope. It’s not difficult at all yet – the rope is set at around Zoro’s shoulder height, and he finds the first few rounds a relative breeze. As the rope is moved lower and lower, the tension that’s suffocating them like a smothering fog starts to dissipate – because despite Zoro’s mood being slightly off, the occurrence of Zoro losing his temper and getting into a scuffle with Sanji isn’t news.

Soon enough the stoic atmosphere is replaced by Chopper’s giggles at being able to just walk under the rope every time, bastards, and it doesn’t make him happy at all, and Brook’s cries of “yohohoho, how this is putting a strain on my muscles – except I don’t have any! Skull joke! Yohohoho!” and just like that, the crew is once more at ease.

Zoro finds himself smiling faintly at each of their antics, but his heart still isn’t really in it and he can feel Sanji’s eyes on him, gaze prickling the back of his neck. He doesn’t turn to meet his gaze, but every time it’s Sanji’s turn to make it past the rope he finds himself staring at the elegant bend of his back, how he makes it look so graceful and easy and how it accentuates the length of his legs. How his hair flops downwards and exposes parts of his face that are usually obscured by blonde bangs, how his lips curl around his cigarette, how he smiles with his teeth showing, and Zoro’s seen enough.

It makes him feel queasy, knowing how gone he is for somebody who’s so clearly off limits, out of reach, untouchable. It makes him feel sick, because hadn’t he promised himself he wouldn’t let it come to this? Hadn’t he sworn that he’d keep himself under control, to keep his distance, to first and foremost make Sanji happy? To put Sanji first?

He has nobody to blame but himself, really. He’d known not to get carried away; known that he shouldn’t keep giving out pieces of himself to a person who clearly doesn’t want them.

“Hey, you sure you’re alright?”

Zoro blinks, and when he zones back in it’s to see Sanji gazing at him in concern, blue eyes swimming with warmth that Zoro suddenly doesn’t want directed at him. It gives him hope that Sanji cares about him, but what good is that hope when he knows he’ll never care enough, never care in the way Zoro wants him to?

Sometimes, Zoro thinks it’d almost be better if he didn’t care at all. It’d be easier to keep away, then.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He shrugs off the careful hand on his arm, and makes his way under the rope. It’s getting quite low, and Zoro knows he won’t make it past more than another few rounds. He doesn’t really care, anymore – let Nami increase his debt, he just wants to be left alone.

A few minutes later, Franky falls backwards as he’s going under the rope, and he blames it on the fact that his arms are too heavy and they’re upsetting his centre of gravity. Zoro has a sneaking suspicion Franky could have made a few more rounds if he’d put in a tad more effort, but he decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth and doesn’t say anything when Nami adds 50% onto Franky’s rather small – compared to Zoro’s at least – debt, failing the next round himself and gratefully sitting off to the side to watch the rest of them.

He watches Luffy’s ridiculous backbends as he passes under the rope, Nami and Robin’s smooth glide, Brook’s flexible arch, Chopper’s delighted walk, and Usopp’s flailing limbs, but time and time again he finds his attention drawn to Sanji. He’s confident as he passes under the rope, knows he’ll make it, and there’s no tremble or teeter as he bends backwards as easily as if it were forwards instead.

It’s fascinating, and Zoro can’t stop staring. But it’s not good for him, he knows that – knows he needs to stop and get a grip on himself, needs to move on, so he heaves himself up off of the floor with a groan.

“I think I might go and take a nap,” he tells Franky, and pretends he can’t feel Sanji’s gaze following him as he makes his way to the men’s quarters.

He doesn’t do much napping. Instead, he lies on his bed, hands behind his head as he wonders about the correlation between golden boys and the stars, both so beautiful and so unbearably out of reach.

xxx

Zoro stays like that until he hears the distinct sound of dress shoes on floorboards, and then stays like that some more.

Sanji pushes open the door with an armful of bandages, and doesn’t look too surprised at Zoro being there.

Franky probably told him.

Or perhaps he’d asked.

(But why would that matter? It doesn’t. Zoro needs to stop fooling himself.)

Sanji dumps the bandages on his bed, and isn’t that lovely, doesn’t this scene just give him a wonderful sense of déjà vu?

“Limbo over, then?” he asks, more to break the silence than anything.

Sanji looks over. “Yeah.” He doesn’t look away again, just gazes steadily at Zoro as if he’s an enigma and Sanji wants to solve him. Zoro clenches his jaw, torn between offering to help reapply the bandages, and saving himself while he still has enough pieces left.

He’s always been a little bit reckless though, hasn’t he? Sacrificial. That’s part of who he is, deeply engraved in his bones, to put his favourite people before himself. It’s etched in the scars at his ankles, permanent. He can’t really see himself changing, doesn’t even truly know how, because if he’s not the Roronoa Zoro everyone knows then who even is he?

He meets Sanji’s eyes, and holds them with his golden ones. Sits up, leans his elbows on his knees. Hesitates, and then thinks to hell with it, pushes himself up off the bed, picking up a roll of gauze. Tugs on Sanji’s shirt. Drops his gaze.

“Take this off.”

Sanji obeys silently, and the similarity between this day and that one so many weeks ago now has Zoro’s fingers trembling slightly.

The same people, the same event, but a different time.

As Zoro wraps the bandages around Sanji’s shoulder, well on its way to healing now, he finds his mind drifting to whether things would have turned out differently if he had met Sanji at a different time. Perhaps they’d be different people, perhaps they’d be together.

Perhaps, they’d both be golden.

xxx

Zoro finds out at dinner that Sanji won Limbo.

It’s Usopp who tells him later that Sanji gave the money he won back to Nami, and told her to deduct it from Zoro’s debt. He didn’t need it, he’d said. Such a kind man, learnt it all from Captain Usopp…

Zoro walks out then, and makes his way up to the crow’s nest where he tells Brook to get some sleep, relieving him of watch duty. Zoro may as well do it, if he’s going to be up all night.

xxx

It’s around midnight when Sanji joins him in the crow’s nest, climbing in silently with two mugs of steaming coffee and a tired smile on his face. He hands one of the mugs to Zoro, before sitting down so close that the two of them are touching from shoulder to knee.

Zoro thinks about moving away, but it’s late enough for honesty and Zoro doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t.

They don’t say anything, for a while. Zoro gets lost in the feeling of Sanji so close, and wonders why he has to make this so hard for Zoro, why he has to ruin him.

It’s not until their coffees are just dregs in their mugs and their mugs have long gone cold that Sanji breaks the silence.

“Do you ever feel like,” he whispers into the darkness, words weaving into the breeze, “your world has tilted on its axis and spun out of control?”

Zoro runs a hand over his face. “Yeah,” he sighs back. “Yeah.”

Sanji nods to himself. “Without your permission, without you even realising, until it’s too late.” He huffs out a breath, melancholy. Almost bittersweet. “It’s so strange.”

“It’s so shit, more like.”

Sanji’s lips twist into a wry grin. “Yeah, I suppose it is.”

Zoro wonders why they’re whispering like a breath too hard will break them, like everything they say is a secret, but maybe it will, and maybe it is.

“You know, I’ve always wondered why I’m never good enough for people to consider a serious relationship with.” Sanji shifts, taps his fingers against his knee. “Why am I not good enough?”

Zoro wants to tell him that he is good enough, he is he is he is, he’s good enough for Zoro, but he doesn’t because that’s not what Sanji wants to hear. He ducks his head instead, chewing on the inside of his cheek until he’s sure it bleeds.

“Nami said we’re arriving at an island tomorrow. You can go on your nice date with a nice girl, then,” Zoro promises, “and I’m sure there’ll be plenty of willing women to choose from.”

Before he’s even finished speaking, Sanji’s shaking his head. Laughs quietly, a melody broken but no less beautiful, and then a little louder. He’s still shaking his head, and there’s a touch of despair to his voice when he next speaks.

“Goodnight, Zoro.”

And then he’s tilting his head back to get one last look at the sky splattered with stars, before standing up, backlit by the moon and shoulders slumped, defeated.

The next second he’s gone, silent as he came, and alone and confused Zoro wonders whether he and Sanji are on the same page; whether they’re even reading the same goddamn book.

[mrsbenedictbridgerton]

We Got Friday Nights

A little friends to lovers drabble/one shot for @thesschesthair​ cos she likes them and she is awesome!

also on ff.net and ao3

When your best friend is gorgeous, smart and one of the most decent people you’d ever met, it makes sense that people would think you were a couple. Of course every time this happened to Killian Jones and Emma Swan they’d laugh it off and say there was no chance that anything like that could ever happen.

They were friends - for almost five years - and they quite liked it that way.

Only one time, she had seriously considered it.

They were in the middle of this health kick - running a few times a week after Emma had almost collapsed chasing a skip up a fire escape. Killian had offered to run with her - it wasn’t safe for her to be running around on her own, he’d said - she’d rolled her eyes and reminded him that she could take care of herself and that Storybrooke was hardly the crime capital of New England. He’d still insisted on joining her.

One Saturday he’d knocked on her apartment door, too early for the sun even to have peeked over the horizon. The park was deserted as they pounded the trails in companionable silence until it began to rain. A fine mist at first, it quickly graduated into a heavy downpour with large, freezing drops saturating them in seconds as they raced to the cover of the trees.

Killian laughed when she slipped in the mud, his hands coming up to her waist to halt her fall -  they were warm, even through her soaked t-shirt. He was close enough she could really appreciate those damn blue eyes of his that never saw him leave a bar without at least one phone number (wanted or not). His hair had fallen over those eyes. She’d told him a dozen times to cut it and he always just shrugged. Water dripped down those silky tendrils, drizzling across his cheek. Dazed, she’d stared at his perfect face.

For a second, she’d forgotten who he was ( her best friend ) and why they’d never been more than that (she didn’t do relationships or men in general, he just didn’t do commitment). For a moment he was just a handsome, perfect guy who she was very attracted to… so she reached up and brushed away the rogue strands, her fingers sliding down his cheek, reluctant to break the contact. It was okay- just for that moment - to let herself get lost in the smile he gave her and to imagine what it would be like to kiss those lips and for those hands to tighten at her waist and draw her close.

They’d hugged a thousand times. But that was different, because he was her friend and every hug they shared was devoid of that pulling tension she felt right then. Warmth radiated from him as the rain tumbled through the pine trees. She let herself daydream for a few perilous moments about a “them” - a dream of cozy dates and tangled limbs and kisses and-

Then, of course, reality kicked in. The rain vanished, the sun replacing it in the blink of an eye. He’d tugged on her shoulder, rousing her out of the dream as he asked her if she was ready to head back. She’d smiled and nodded, avoiding his gaze until her feet found that rhythm again on the mossy footpaths, each step pushing that idea further away.

“Emma, where is your damn bottle opener?”

“Hmm,” she called from the couch, flicking through Netflix like a pro, her feet propped up on the coffee table.

“That bloody bottle opener I got you for Christmas? The one that says ‘walk the plank’ when you use it?” Killian’s voice had gotten that high pitched tone that showed he was becoming exasperated. She smiled to herself and rolled her eyes.

“Oh, that.”

Emma shuffled to sit and then stood, yanking her oversized hoodie over the threadbare leggings that she refused to throw away. She located the missing item behind a stash of chocolate PopTarts above the fridge, handing it to him with a wry smile. “Only you would actually buy me a themed bottle opener.”

He grinned, holding up the pirate-ship shaped device. “You know what I say-”

“Yeah, yeah,” she nodded, just wanting to get back to browsing, “You’re a pirate.”

With a yawn, she ambled back to the couch, mourning the fact that her spot had gotten cold. She heard him fussing with their take out back in the kitchen.

“You know,” she said, “Just because you own a boat, it doesn’t make you a pirate. Or even a captain for that matter.”

If Emma Swan knew one thing, it was how to wind up Killian.

“I beg to differ, lass,” he retorted as he waltzed into the room with two bottles of beer and an open box of the best (and only) pizza the small town had to offer. “And for the millionth time, she’s a ship not a boat.”

Snatching a slice, the cheese singed her fingers as she gave him a grin. “And the difference is…”

With a sigh, he sank down beside her and deposited the bottles in his hand on the table alongside the box. “A boat is small enough to be carried aboard a larger vessel, and a vessel large enough to carry a smaller one is a ship.”

She chewed thoughtfully for a second, then turned and shrugged. “And here I was thinking size doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, love…” he drawled. As he spoke, he tried to wink and that just made Emma’s smile deepen. Killian had not once manage to wink correctly in all the time had known him and she found it hilarious.

“So then, time for more How to Get Away With Murder? I still don’t know who killed Wes-”

“No, you know this week it’s my turn to choose.”

“I could swear you did last week,” he replied, reaching over to try and grab the remote that she held out as far away as she could.

“You made me watch goddamn Rambo last week. This week, Emma chooses, next week it’s all yours babe.”

“Oh how I do love our banter,” he quipped as he kicked off his shoes and rested his feet on the table next to hers.

“Geez, you left Blighty almost ten years ago and you still use words like ‘banter’ - what’s next? Will you be eating some crisps later while wearing your jumper and planning your next ‘holiday’?”

“You wound me,” he replied with a mock frown. “But I know you love it.” And before she could react he had reached forward and taken a bite of her pizza.

“Hey!” she yelled. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

“I’d despair if you didn’t make me.”

He tried to wink and failed again.

Emma laughed.

The rom-com she had put on was cheesier than the takeout and predictable but she took more than enough pleasure knowing that it was his least favorite genre. They had this silly rivalry when it came to movie choices, each one trying to find something the other would hate. Movie night - Friday nights - was their thing. No matter what work churned out for either of them they always tried to keep their (platonic) date. Alternating between each other’s apartments, they’d binge on some Netflix, peruse the takeout menus that lived in each other’s kitchen drawers and generally just shoot the breeze over a beer (or a glass of rum after a particularly hard week). For as long as she could remember Friday nights were just their thing.

The pizza had made her sleepy, her stomach was full and the beer had became bottle number two. The movie was half way through and her body had slouched to one side, resting against his, her head on his shoulder.

The heroine of the movie was currently mooning on about some guy she liked (who was totally wrong for her) to her best friend (who was totally right for her).

He shifted, sliding his arm around her until she was nestled against his chest. This was par the course for them; somehow they always ended up a little snuggled against each other and Emma wasn’t exactly complaining. Even if there was nothing romantic in it, it felt nice to be held by someone.

On the subject of romance, now was an apt time for her weekly update on Killian’s love life. “Any dates lined up?” she asked.

“You know my Fridays are given up to movie night.”

“There are six other nights in the week, Jones.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Nope. No dates.”

“You’re losing your touch,” she laughed.

He tapped his fingers against the bottle in his hand, his rings creating a little clink sound. “I’m not exactly in the frame of mind for meaningless fuckery right now.”

There was something about his tone that made Emma uneasy. There was a bite to his words that she just wasn’t used to. Normally when she teased him about his casual dating record he liked to peacock and exaggerate.

“It’s not like you’ve been on any dates either,” he added, giving her a quick glance before his focus returned to the tv.

“Yeah, well, you know my track record.”

“Not all men are utter bastards, Emma.”

“I know,” she sighed, “Still…”

She didn’t need to repeat again the reasons why she had pretty much given up dating. A childhood love who had set you up and gotten you sent to juvie combined with an ex-fiance who actually turned out to be married was not the most illustrious dating history. Fact was, she was scared of getting hurt again. She was pretty sure her heart couldn’t take it.

“I know Swan,” he murmured, his voice full of understanding. He may not have met either of those illustrious men, but she knew he understood how hurt she had been by them and he respected how that had affected her.

They both silently sipped their beers as the movie continued, his fingers finding their way to massaging her scalp (he was great at those) as he shifted to lift his legs onto the couch, making them almost parallel though her feet were still inches away from his. Soon the leading lady was crying into her coffee after said totally unsuitable guy had dumped her.

“Swan, have you ever-”

He paused, shaking his head at whatever he was thinking.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

She pushed herself up, bringing her knees under her body (silently thanking Killian for buying such a broad couch) so their faces were at the same height. She tilted her head and gave him an expectant glare.

He huffed a little before giving in. “Will was bleating on today at work about how ridiculous it is that we aren’t a couple. I tried explaining but you know what he’s like.”

Emma sure did know. Will, Killian’s co-worker at the marina, was just about the nosiest and most opinionated guy in town. And he had an opinion on everything .

“And he got me thinking about what that would look like.”

“What would?”

“Us, you and me.” He took a sip of his beer. “Have you ever… thought about it?”

“Oh-” she gasped, blushing a little, “I’ve never really, you know...” she shrugged, feeling the guilt of lying to him. She never lied to Killian.

“I know, crazy idea. Can you imagine? I think we’d tear each other to pieces within a week.”

Emma chuckled, “Yeah, you’d be trying to make me drink prune juice with every meal.”

“And you’d be lecturing me even more than usual about keeping my hair a reasonable length.”

“And, as if I could put up with your five am alarms!”

“And you rolling in from work in the wee hours? Terrible.”

“And your obsession with pirates? That would get old pretty quick!”

“And I’d worry about you even more than I already do when you’re off chasing those criminals.”

“And I’d do the same when you’re out on that damn boat in all kinds of weather.”

“Ship,” he reminded her. “ Ship ,” she repeated.

“Yeah,” she sighed, “Crazy idea all around.”

“That’s what I told him. The idea that Emma Swan and I could ever be a couple is just insane. I mean, hilarious really.”

He chortled a little as he supped further on his beer, shaking his head a few times for good measure as if to further punctuate the point that a relationship between them was just about the most outrageous idea he had ever heard.

Emma watched him, her stomach sinking a little as she did so, an anxious little knot suddenly forming within.

As she turned back to the television it was the moment that the girl - the movie’s darling - was finally kissing her dependable friend whom it had been obvious she would get with from the first minute. Watching the friends-come-lovers entwined mouths filling the screen made that anxious sensation grow even further.

An uncomfortable flush rose up her neck. She could not remember a time she had ever felt uncomfortable around her best friend but this moment was quickly becoming one, even though she was no longer lying against him it felt like even being a few inches apart was singing her skin. She needed some space.

“‘Excuse me,” she whispered, climbing over his legs and leaving the couch, heading for the relative safety of the bathroom and its lockable door.

Flipping down the lid of the toilet, she sat, planting her elbows on her knees and resting her face in her palms.

What had just happened? They had never, ever talked about them being anything more than friends. Not even after the dozens of times other people had assumed they were. Why was this time different?

Her phone pinged. She reached into the pocket of her hoodie. It was Killian.

You alright?

She tapped a message back.

Yeah

The three little dots told her he was writing a reply. It seemed to take him forever.

Nothing to do with what we were talking about?

She didn’t lie to Killian. (Except she just had.)

Maybe?

(Emma you are pathetic, she told herself.)

She heard the telltale padding of his feet along the corridor and she sucked in a breath.

“Emma?”

“Yeah?”

He hesitated a moment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make things weird, it’s just Will was going on and on and- look, I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

This was the moment that she should have just laughed off the whole conversation, went outside and watched the end of the movie. But maybe it was the two beers or maybe it was the movie-

Taking confident steps, she slid open the lock and yanked open the bathroom door. Killian was leaning against the wall opposite, his head down, his hands slung in his pocket- he looked dejected almost.

“I lied,” she announced in a much firmer voice than she had thought she could muster, ‘I have thought about it.”

His head sprang up, tilting a little to one side as he seemed to study her face, waiting for her to add something. Finally, he broke into a smile and took a step towards her.

“Oh thank god. So have I. Lots of times.”

He had? Oh God, he had. He’d thought about it. She could see on his face that he had seriously considered being with her. And why hadn’t he said anything? But she knew why, she knew how clearly she had spoken of her desire to be alone. But this was Killian and it was different-

Somehow, a dozen thoughts all formed simultaneously and made her head ache.

But then Emma being Emma, she had to go with the most negative ones.

“It’s just… I like our time together, the movie Fridays and the fact and can call you whenever I have a problem and the way you have of making me relax when I get anxious about stupid things and how you are my emergency contact and all the dumb pirate shit you buy me when you know I find it ridiculous and… you know.”

She shrugged, kinda pathetically, her shoulders then slumping, looking up at him, begging him to understand.

He responded by staring into her eyes. “We could have more than Friday nights, we could have every night. If you wanted. Whatever you wanted.”

Goddamn him he sounded so sincere that she would have swooned if she were the swooning type. He was offering her more, on her terms.

“I can’t lose you,” she whispered, looking down at his stockinged feet and seeing those pirate ship socks she’d bought him for Christmas. She couldn’t lose him -

“Who said you would?” he asked.

In that moment, Emma could feel years of pain and torment as fresh as they had been on the day they first scarred her. Every sensation of loss and helplessness that a man had ever inflicted, washed over her even as a large part of her said, but this is Killian. He is different.

“People hurt each other. Relationships end.”

“I would never hurt you Swan. I care about you more than you could ever understand.”

He sounded a little wounded that she would think he could.

Because she knew he couldn’t ever do anything to purposely cause her pain. And she knew that he was the most important person in her life. The person she could never do without.

“Oh, Killian, I-”

She stepped a little closer, reaching out her hand to place on his shoulder, just as he took that moment to sweep down and press upon her lips a kiss - a kiss so dazzling in its simplicity and perfection that all oxygen seemed to leave her body.

He was kissing her.

And it felt every bit as good as she could ever have imagined. He kissed like he moved, graceful and with purpose, his lips chasing after hers, making her a little giddy and lightheaded.

Pulling away, she took a quick breath, before wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing him against the wall behind him. All those worries and doubts from a few moments earlier were erased as she finally understood what people meant when they said something just felt right .

Like the way his hands fit at her waist.

Like the taste of beer on his warm tongue.

Like the perfect synchrony with which they wrapped themselves around each other like they had been doing this for years. (Though in some ways they had.)

“I won’t hurt you Emma,” he whispered against her lips as her fingers tangled in his hair.

“I know,” she replied, before pulling him in for another kiss.

It was already light but she had no intention of moving from where she currently lay, her head resting against Killian Jones’ bare chest, her fingers trailing over the smattering of hair that covered it as he drew circles over her hip.

“Well Swan, looks like you already have Saturday mornings.”

He grinned at her. The same as always but just different.

She chased after his lips with a yearning kiss, sliding her leg over his hips and feeling all the nice kinds of aches that their evening had provided.

“How about all of Saturday too?”

“As you wish, milady.”

 A/N: If you liked it a review is always appreciated