#although if I were to put in shipping glasses I could probably see it

[blog-of-reaction]

So it seems like Richie’s back now. I guess killing that bank teller and finally getting weird knowledge vision shit really helped him.

[loganwritesprobably]

First Meetings with.. (One Piece Edition)

Part two with Zoro, Robin and Luffy Part three with Crocodile, Mihawk and Buggy Part four with Benn, Shanks and Smoker

A tumblr exclusive collection of little reader insert drabbles - these won't be going on my AO3, these are just for the feral people of this wonderful hellscape

Requests are open for x reader things! I will write basically ANY kind of reader - male, female, non-binary, gender neutral, trans, disabled, black, white, latino, asian, neurodivergent, etc

I'll probably do more over time but here's three to start with - Ace, Law and Sanji. Readers are all gender neutral, but for Sanji reader is fem presenting (so he would be nice)

"Well hey there gorgeous." A voice said behind you, startling you to the point of hitting your hand against the counter in front of you. You were just minding your business, attempting to buy some food for the week, when some random guy had appeared behind you. You had half a mind to turn around and give him a piece of your mind, when the shopkeeper's eyes widened, and whispered his name. Fire Fist Ace. The pirate. "Who do you think you are?" You asked, turning to face him with a scowl. You wouldn't attack him outright, but you were not happy with the look on his face (now that you could see it) and wouldn't let it go. "Your future boyfriend, hopefully." Ace replied, and you scoffed. You turned back to the shopkeeper and bought your groceries, before making to leave the store. Ace followed behind you closely, making no secret of the fact that he was there.

"Are you lost?" You snarked, rolling your eyes at Ace. He was persistent, you'd give him that. "Oh no, just hoping you'll look at me like that again. You're perfect." "You're disgusting." You grumbled, although you'd certainly never been called perfect before, and in another circumstance you wouldn't be mad about it. "Hey, now that's harsh." Ace replied, but he was laughing as he said it, clearly unphased by your displeasure being directed at him. You took off walking again, not walking toward your place since you didn't exactly want to lead him straight to it.

Ace, to his credit, continued to follow you and eventually began to just talk. He seemed to be able to talk forever, uncaring whether or not you were listening - though you were. He was a pirate, pretty high bounty, almost a warlord, he had a little brother who he was stupid proud of, and an even bigger family waiting for him back on his main ship. "While this is all very nice, are you going to leave me be any time soon?" You asked eventually, back on the main street of the town once again. "Are you going to tell me your name?" That was all? You told him your name, utterly exasperate it. "Well, gorgeous, you'll be seeing more of me soon." With that, he took off in the opposite direction of your home, with a swagger in his step, happy he'd gotten what he wanted. You kind of hoped that you would be seeing him again soon - you liked him, reluctantly.

You weren't even hurt that badly. The guys were gone, and you were managing to stumble home just fine. You had a first aid kit in the kitchen that would be able to patch you up, and then you could go to the doctor when you had the time and had gotten some sleep. It was too late to go see her now.

As you stumbled down the dark street, clutching walls for stability, a man began to approach you. "Fuck off! Not in the mood." You snarled, clutching the broken shard of glass you'd gotten in the fight, a strip of your shirt wrapped around it to protect your hand. "You're injured." The guy stated flatly, and then you'd hit a stalemate. "Duh?" You said, still brandishing the shard in your hand. "I can fix it. I'm a doctor. Don't have to drop the glass, but I'd prefer if you didn't stab me." The supposed doctor drawled. He seemed.. familiar. Something about him just sparked recognition in the back of your mind, and that put you a little on edge. "You're familiar - why?" You questioned, shuffling backward to get a little further away from him while you waited on his answer. "I'm Trafalgar Law. My bounty poster is on the wall you're clutching." The pirate doctor pointed out, nodding toward it. Well, that made sense. Surgeon of death you'd heard him called - so at least that meant he was a doctor right? "Alright. But one wrong move and you'll be needing your own medical care." You threatened, and Law just half nodded. He knelt down in front of you to look at your wound, then pulled some bandages from a pocket in his coat. He wrapped your leg, doing so in complete silence and without hesitation. When he was done, he stood again and grunted as he nodded.

"Should be fine now. It'll hurt to walk still, but less risk of infection." He summarised, stepping around you to continue in the direction he'd been going. "Wait! Why did you do that?" You asked, spinning quickly on your good leg. "You're cute." He said simply, a small smirk on his face. He lifted his hand, said a word you didn't hear, and then in a flash of blue light he was gone.

You'd bumped into him entirely by chance, and gotten talking. He was a nice guy, he was sweet if a little much when it came to women he saw. You didn't mind - you could see that his intentions were good, for the most part. He offered to pay for a drink for you, since you'd narrowly avoided colliding with him outside of a bar, and you'd accepted. He let you order what you wanted, and he paid, not even blinking. It was second nature to him. He was kind, and offered endless compliments that you withstood with a smile on your face - you weren't quite used to such a bombardment of affection.

He disappeared after an hour or so, but returned the next day. You'd tried to ask where he went, but he danced around the question and asked you on an official date. You'd had a nice enough time the day before, and so you agreed.

He took you to a restaurant, it was classier than you usually allowed yourself to go to with a modest amount of money, but it didn't seem to be any object for him. He told you that he wouldn't compromise on good food, and allowed you to order anything you'd like, with no concerns about how many beri it would set him back. It felt nice not to worry about it for once. You ordered starters, then mains, with drinks flowing easily between you, and then a dessert to share to end the experience. You'd been there for hours, but with the money that you'd spent, no waiter could argue.

The conversation between you was easy and light, he was enraptured by your every word, he couldn't help it. He looked at you as if you'd hung the very stars in the sky. "All I've done is talk. I know almost nothing about you." You said to him, and Sanji laughed awkwardly. "I suppose so. But I'm afraid there's not much to tell." He said, and just as you'd been about to argue, a woman with orange hair came bursting into the restaurant calling his name. You looked at him with wide eyes and stood quickly. "No! She's not-" Sanji said hurriedly. "How much of my money was spent on this date?" Nami demanded, fire in her eyes. "I'm so sorry! I didn't realise you were-" You attempted to say to the woman, hoping she wouldn't direct her frightening anger at you. "Oh you're gorgeous. Well played cook, didn't think you had it in you." She praised, and then bewildered confusion fell over you. "Oh Nami, your praise is a balm on my heart." You rolled your eyes and folded your arms, raising an expectant eyebrow as you stared at Sanji, waiting for an explanation. "I'm a pirate. She's our navigator, and.. treasurer I suppose." He explained, and you sighed. "So you're not staying." "I can't." Sanji agreed, with a sad smile and nod. "But we're not leaving for another few days. So have fun while you can." Nami said, giving you a wink and Sanji a firm punch before turning to leave the restaurant.

Fun. You could do that.

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

What about Kafka with a puppy like reader (like golden retriever type vibes)

Kafka with a golden retriever like reader

characters: Kafka x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: I have never written for Kafka *or* Honkai Star Rail before, so if I get some things wrong, then I’m sorry. There should be no spoilers here, but one or two minor ones might slip in by accident, so consider this a small warning.

Anyway, Kafka hot…

oh, and hope you enjoy!

Kafka

From all the Stellaron Hunters out there, you had to worry the least about being put on some sort of list. Afterall, when one was dealing with a group of criminals, the last description coming to anyone’s mind would be that of a human equivalent of a golden retriever. That being said, just because ordinary people wouldn’t connect you to your companions didn’t mean that nobody else would. Luckily for you and the others however, you were more than competent enough not to get caught while running errands every now and then.

Just as you handed the shopkeeper your money and were ready to leave, you felt a pair of eyes fixating on you, only for your eyes to glance over a guardsman glaring into your direction, the person next to him whispering something into his ear while doing his best to steal a glance at you from time to time. It seemed like your shopping trip would be coming to an end a little bit sooner than anticipated.

With one final goodbye to the person returning your change, you turned around and started walking away, your pace slowly picking up with every step, only to start sprinting the moment you heard the heavy footsteps of an armored guard just a few steps behind you, pushing your way through every shopkeeper in front of you. A part of you wanted to turn around and apologize for doing so, but seeing as you probably wouldn’t be shopping here again, you instead decided to simply shout your apologies without looking back.

As you finally reached the end of the dock, with nothing but endless nothingness greeting you when you looked over the edge, you turned around one last time before waving the guards goodbye and taking a step back, pressing the newly bought coat against your chest in fear you might accidentally let go of it, only to brace yourself for the inevitably hurtful impact of landing inside the shuttle… if there was one.

Just as your brain began considering that you may have done something that could only be described as not your brightest moment, the awaited impact occurred, and although significantly dampened by the mattress on which you landed, your back still hurt.

“Ever thought of what would happen if we weren’t here to catch you?”, Silverwolf's slightly annoyed voice rang out, the confirmation that you landed on the correct shuttle bringing a smile to your face before you quickly shook your head.

“Why should I? It’s not like such a thing would ever happen”, you answered before finally sitting up and quickly scanning the coat for any damages before proudly handing it to Kafka. “Here, I heard they were selling this here, so since we’re already here, I thought buying it for you might not be a bad idea.”

“Looks like the ad didn’t lie about it being high quality”, she said to herself while running her fingers across the fabric, putting it to the side before helping you up, a small smile making its way onto her lips. “Thanks, this spares me quite some time looking for someone willing to sell it to me. How about I give you a reward as thanks? Tell me what you want and you’ll get it”, she offered, only for you to quickly shake your head.

“You liking it is reward enough for me.” If rolling one’s eyes made a sound, Silverwolf alone would have been able to shatter glass, but when Kafka leaned in and gave you a kiss, the fellow Stellaron Hunter let out a disgruntled sigh.

“I’d love to watch you two continue with your cheesy couple stuff, but could you do it another time? Everyone on this giant ship wants us dead or at least in shackles”, she reminded you, causing Kafka to give her a halfhearted nod before putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Go and take some rest, you did enough today.” Just as the words left her mouth, you gave her an enthusiastic nod before walking off, the pain in your back completely overshadowed by your joy.

[avocadorablepirate]

What Do We Call This? - 05

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Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.

Word Count: 2.06K

Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, swearing, mentions of alcohol as well as its consumption, the occasional OP spoiler.

A/N: I've proof read this like who knows how many times and I can still tell that the grammar tenses are all over the place, probably used every tense possible :⁠-⁠P. Anyway, this is my attempt to add some fluff to this series, although I've come to realise that maybe that's not my forte, but I still hope you enjoy it!

—⁠☆✿☆—⁠

You stand in a corner of the ship, a small smile on your face as you watch the Straw Hats raise their glasses in a toast to the newly founded Straw Hat Grand Fleet. The atmosphere was one of camaraderie and joy, a drastic shift from a few hours ago when you were all desperately trying to get away from the Marines in Dressrosa.

"(Y/N), you ready?"

The party springs to life, but your attention is drawn away from the crowd when you hear Zoro call out to you. He holds two mugs in his hand as he strides towards you, a knowing grin playing on his lips when he finishes taking a swig from his already half empty mug.

To Zoro you were someone who enjoyed the taste of alcohol as much as him, and although that were true, the temporary numbing effects it had on your injuries were an added bonus. So, with a playful smirk, you accepted the drink, clashing glasses with Zoro in cheers before you took a swig of your own.

It had started out as a drinking game between the both of you, which was quickly put to an end when you realised you were no match for Zoro - although your claim was that you were drinking the heavy stuff and he wasn't (the two of you were drinking from the same bottle). However, that was not enough to put a complete stop to your drinking. The two of you soon fell into a rhythm of casual drinking and laughter; refilling the others glass the minute the last drop was finished.

As the night progressed, the effects of the alcohol began to take hold. With each drink, the pain in your body dulled, and was replaced by a warm, fuzzy sensation that left you feeling lighter than air - you were tipsy to say the least.

From where you were you could see Law sat alone at a corner nursing his drink, uninterested in the celebrations around him. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you looked at Zoro, and as if reading your mind, he immediately got up to drag Law to where the two of you were sat.

"Stop it," Law tries to resist, squirming to get out of Zoro's grip, but his protests are nothing to the swordsman who continues to pull him along.

"Law~" you sing his name, taking another sip before continuing, "you need to let loose, you've defeated Doflamingo."

"No, Straw Hat-ya defeated him," he corrects with a slight scowl, still annoyed that he had been dragged by Zoro into your drinking session.

"Well, you helped," you say with a shrug, stretching over him to grab the bottle of sake, so that you could refill everyone's mug.

"Haven't you had enough?" Law asks, although it's more of a statement. He had been keeping his eye on you since you boarded the ship. You had wandered away from him once you were reunited with the Straw Hats. But, despite the familiar company, Law still felt wary, and unbeknownst to you, made sure that you wouldn't push yourself too far. So, when he had seen you and Zoro indulge in drink after drink, a part of him had wanted to intervene, but the other knew that you would only get annoyed at his interference. Yet, now with the way you so casually balance yourself with your hand resting on his thigh as you lean across him to grab the bottle, a few strands of your hair brushing against his face, he knew he would eventually have to step in. If not for the fact that you were already inebriated, then for the shiver that ran down his spine at your touch (which he had pushed aside as him feeling cold).

"We haven't had a single drink together. I've definitely not had enough," you insist, your words slurred by the effects of the alcohol. Then giving all your attention to the three empty mugs, you pour a drink for the two men and yourself before gleefully knocking glasses with them, the force of your action causing Law to nearly spill all over himself. But despite nearly drenching himself, he can't help the subtle fondness that grows for you as he watches you double over with laughter at your own antics.

It's only after your fourth round with the duo that Law decides to cut you off, his concern gnawing at his conscience when you tumble into him. You had yet again tried to reach for the bottle that sat between him and Zoro, your blurry vision and the spinning room clouding your senses, and in an attempt to grab at something to steady yourself, you fell onto Law.

"You need to sleep." Law sighs, his hands gently grasping at your sides as he balances you. You give a weak whine in protest, but his soft voice and the warmth that radiates from his body only makes you drowsy, and you nuzzle into his embrace.

Law freezes as your head falls to rest against his chest, though he's quick to snap out of it, scooping you up in his arms as he stands up with ease. He hides the concern that is etched on his face with his usual stoic facade as he approaches Bartolomeo, asking him where you could sleep for the night. On Bartolomeo's directions, Law walks down the corridor to the room that was mentioned. His eyes dart towards you at the slightest sound you make, but all you say are a mix of words that are incomprehensible to him.

When he finds the room, he presses his back against the door and opens it, gently closing it behind him so that he wouldn't startle you.

It's a small room with a bunkbed pushed into one of its corners, a table in another. As Law carefully places you down onto the lower bunk, he finds himself examining your features, and his breath hitches when he notices the purplish bruises peaking out from under the bandages on your shoulder.

When he had brought you to the little house in Dressrosa Law had tried his best to mend all your wounds, his way of repaying you for what you had done for him. Still, his powers couldn't completely heal you like yours had done for him - and you were still left with bruises and scars. Law brushes aside the guilt and straightens up, but with a sudden burst of energy you pull him down by the collar of his coat. He steadies his fall by placing his hands on either side of your head, but his face is only inches away from yours, and you give him a lopsided smile that pulls at his heartstrings. God, he doesn't know why you suddenly have this effect on him.

You pull him down a little more, your lips brushing against his ear. "Alcohol has magical healing powers like me," you whisper with a giggle and then slightly push him away to meet his gaze. Law's still surprised by the position he's in, although he frowns at your words. However, you don't notice; the faint pink that still dusts his cheeks catching your attention instead. You move your hands from his collar to his face, squishing his cheeks between your palms, which only deepens his frown. Another giggle escapes from your lips, as you give him a fond smile, "Cora-san said you're cute when you're angry, but I think you're cuter when you're surprised."

Silence.

"Oye Trafalgar what do you think you're doing!?"

Your words and the sudden entry of Bartolomeo startle Law, and he bumps his head against the top bunk as he quickly pulls away from you to stand up. His soft expression changes to a scowl as he turns to face Bartolomeo, ready to berate the man for yelling, but he doesn't get the chance.

"I came looking for you cause I thought you didn't find the room, but here I find you, trying to do something to (Y/L/N) while she's asleep!" Bartolomeo yells at him, and Law hopes that you'll come to his defense. But when he turns to look at you, you're already passed out, hugging the blanket close to your person, blissfully unaware of the awkward situation you had put him in.

He lets out a low, tsk, before he pushes past Bartolomeo, and goes to find a room for himself, ignoring the voice that continues to yell at him.

_______________________________________________

You awake with the harsh light that breaks through the window, the groan you let out partly due to the sunlight and partly due to the throbbing headache that makes you feel like your head could explode any minute. The memories of last night then dawn on you, although they're a hazy recollection of the events that transpired the night before - the last one being Zoro dragging Law to join the two of you for a drink. You couldn't recall what happened after that, and you didn't want to at the moment; now, adding to the headache, was the soreness of your body, the effects of the alcohol having completely worn off.

Nevertheless you groggily get out of bed and make your way to the deck to find the Straw Hats, Law and Bartolomeo already awake. Luffy's boisterous greeting prompts you to groan in annoyance as you take the seat beside Law, unintentionally causing him to jump when your shoulder brushes against his, which goes unnoticed by you.

The group continues to talk animatedly as you try to get used to the sun that blazes down and the loud chatter that surrounds you. You try your best to focus on one thing at a time.

"Seems like our bounties have gone up."

Zoro's words are what finally catch your attention. Though you were not a pirate, you had always found it interesting how even the smallest action could lead to the Government branding people as 'Wanted' - not that what you had witnessed the Straw Hats do was any small feat. So, you were intrigued to see by how much each one's bounty had gone up.

"Really!?" Luffy yells, and you flinch again.

Bartolomeo is quick to get in on the excitement, his entire crew joining in as well as they make a path to their captain's room. The gesture amuses you, and you decide to join the crew just to get a quick glance at the bounties that were surely displayed in a grand manner. However, before he can lead the way, Bartolomeo steps towards Law to say something, and you stop to listen.

"Trafalgar I threw out yours, but your bounty has gone up to five hundred million," he says with a hint of detest, and you can't help but snort at his tone, Law's glare shifting from Bartolomeo to you when he finds you trying to hold back your laughter.

"(Y/N)-senpai!" Bartolomeo calls out to you then with a grin, and you quirk your brow at his change in demeanor. Till now he had always addressed you by your last name, and it was never with such excitement. He generally spoke to you the same way he spoke to Law, yet now, he was speaking to you with the same enthusiasm he had reserved for the Straw Hats.

"If I had known earlier that you were a part of Luffy-senpai's crew I would have kept your poster. Anyway, you now have a bounty of fifty million."

Your stomach drops. That couldn't be right, "bu-but I'm not a pirate," you sputter out, as if admitting it out loud would make the bounty disappear," and even if I was, I just started. Fifty million is too much."

"Looks like you've made quite the impression," Zoro remarks with a chuckle, thoroughly amused by your reaction. The rest of the Straw Hats respond in a similar fashion although some responses are more genuine than others.

" Suuper impressed."

"Good for you (Y/N)! Getting your first bounty must feel great!" Luffy cheers, not at all aware that this was not what you wanted. He gives you a congratulatory tap on the back before he and the rest of the crew follow behind Bartolomeo to see their new bounties, completely brushing off your shock.

You blink in surprise, still struggling to process the news through the haze of your hangover. Beside you, Law chuckles to himself, finding amusement in your bewildered reaction, and it's your turn to glare at him.

_______________________________________________

A/N: literally just listened to Daylight by Taylor Swift on repeat when I wrote this, so it's kinda all over the place ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

taglist: @trafalgardaria

[magadauthan]

Ep 26: Under the Sky So Blue

Thank you to the @trigun98watchparty for making this possible, and to all of you who have been reading along with me to this point. It's been a great trip down memory lane and getting acquainted or re-acquainted with other '98 fans who watched the first Trigun and loved it despite its flaws.

Also big thank you to those who engaged in meta, especially @tiggymalvern! Finding you again was the nicest surprise of all!

Without further ado, I am plant-ing (HARF) my tongue firmly in cheek for the intro to this recap.

Knives. We need to talk.

You have spent the last 130 years working on becoming the most basic bitch on NML, and you've done a good job. You couldn't be any blonder or blue-eyed. You have (had) a loyal second-in-command who did all your dirty work for you so you didn't have to get your hair mussed. You have a Squad who secretly hates you but sticks around because they want to be on the right side of things if you win out. And you have a silly-looking pair of boots.

It's also well known that you are the Beverage Boy of NML. On your desk (which is sitting in front of a big loopy wall art stating "Live, Laugh, Murder Everyone") and next to the "Universe's #1 Brother" mug you bought yourself is a canvas frame that says "But first, coffee." You probably killed everyone else at Target so you could get the latest Stanley.

But Knives. Knives. The wine? That's a red you're drinking. Red wine doesn't get chilled. It should be decanted and served at room temperature. Plus, basic bitches drink rosé, or a white zinfandel. To make your declassé behavior worse, you're drinking it out of a martini glass. If you're going to have a Cosmo, have a Cosmo. It's no shame. But really - how are you going to claim that you're a superior breed if you don't know such simple rules of etiquette?

Get a grip, Beverage Boy.

--Aw, baby Vash.

--I wonder whether the twins need to eat and drink, or whether it's just easier for them if they do.

--You know, Knives, humans wouldn't have had to rely so heavily on the Plants if you hadn't crashed the ships. Ofc he didn't intend to have anyone survive besides himself and Vash, which sounds pretty boring. What were the two of you going to do for all eternity?

--Was Knives working on the guns before the ship crashed, and that's what he went in to find?

--I remember seeing somewhere that the little cartridge above the barrel of the Long Colts is a teeny Plant, or Plant-stuff. Anyone else recall this?

--NOW who's the big whiny baby, Knives? (my leg, it hurts! Why?)

--That must be a very young Doc on the ship. Although, there's nothing to say that a year on NML is the same as a year on Earth. It would be more surprising if it was, rather than it wasn't.

--LOL William Conrad (aka Revnunt Buskus) is from Cleveland, Ohio

--No but seriously, how did Knives get himself and Vash's severed arm out of July after getting blasted to smithereens?

--"Hi Knives! Living as a human was great! Congratulations bro, I am done with your shit!"

--Vash kept quite a few of Leonov's wires. They've come in handy.

--Knives has learned Vash's physical tricks well enough to keep up with him... and Vash has finally figured out how to control his Plant powers well enough to cancel his brother out. (Tristamp really nailed this; their battle in the final ep was fantastic)

--Vash is worn out. Not only has he been shot through the shoulder by his brother, he's likely not completely healed from the encounter with Legato.

--Even in death, WW is looking after his friend and kicking his ass to do something, damnit! I'm right here to help you!

--The peppering Knives got from the Punisher likely wouldn't have been enough to put Vash off, but Knives has never been able to handle physical pain. Vash remembers this very well and takes excellent advantage of it.

--that boy has jawlines for days

--A blast from the well, the cauldron of Rebirth. Vash is reborn to be his own person, to make the right choices for himself and his conscience, rather than for her memory.

Which is what every mother wants for her son. I should know.

--go get your man, Meryl, he won't keep you waiting. if he did you'd go find him anyway.

--Vash leaves his coat, his gun... and his sunglasses. He's done hiding behind them. He doesn't need to anymore.

--This would have been the ending scene, for most anime. Anyone who watches anime gets used to the vague ending, the things left unsaid, and the ambiguity. There's rarely a "happy ending" the way Westerners think of them. Vash could have wandered off into the sunset, leaving the viewer to wonder whether he ever saw Milly and Meryl again. That's pretty normal.

And then there's Trigun, which takes that expected ambiguity and says "nah, we're not done."

Vash comes back to town. He's made his choice to accept the girls into his life, of his own volition, and he's going to let them make their own choices about having him (and his brother) in their lives. There would be an awful lot to sort out, but he wants to try.

This is the very next scene. Don't tell me otherwise; I don't want to hear it. (credit: doujinshi circle Nail Cut Club; title Meteo Strike).

I have Big Thoughts about what could happen after this, and of course a fanfic, but my cat wants me to go to bed now. She's being very persistent.

Thanks to all of you who read this far. You're the best, and I love you all! And talk to me, I like hearing from ppl!

[ferrocache]

YAY I FINALLY FINISHED A FIC!!!!!!! anyway heres a oneshot about diluc carrying a sleeping (gender neutral) traveler to somewhere they can actually get a good nap

uhhhhh. not really ship but it can be read that way??

no tws its just fluff. 770 words

It was pretty late.

It had been pretty late for a while, infact. The traveler was slumped over at a table in the back of the Angel’s Share, sleeping soundly. Half a glass of juice sat beside them, wobbling slightly when they fidgeted and twitched. The bartender had been keeping an eye on them ever since closing time had passed, but every attempt to gently wake the traveler had been unsuccessful. He leant against the counter and sighed, untying his hair and putting the ribbon in his pocket. Diluc placed down the last of the glasses he had been cleaning and pulled his jacket on, before walking over to where the traveler’s table was. He tapped them on the shoulder. No response. He shook them a little, only enough to slightly move them, and was replied back with them rolling over and shoving their face further into their elbow. 

Diluc stared at the clock on the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose before picking up the traveler and hoisting them up onto his back. They wriggled a bit, obviously a little bothered in whatever dreams they might be having, but settled down and rested their head on Diluc’s shoulder. As the traveler squirmed, he froze, before slowly turning to the door and walking out, the traveler’s messy blonde hair brushing against his face. 

Although it was expected, nobody was out in the night. The stars littered the sky and the moon illuminated the city dimly, but enough to get by without the streetlights. Diluc walked carefully, stopping every so often to readjust and keep the traveler comfortably on his back. He planned to bring them to the knights headquarters, as it was probably one of the only places that would be comfortable. His own residence, Dawn Winery, was way too far away, and many inns had few openings or weren’t convenient. A couple guards stood at the entrance, a little weary from watching the city through the long night. Although taken aback by the sudden arrival of Diluc Ragnvindr, one of the most vocal dissidents against the Knights, they saluted at him and he responded with a quick nod before attempting to open the door with one hand. The guards stood behind him and blinked, before one scrambles forward and opens the door so Diluc can get through. He steps through before turning back to the guard and muttered “Thanks.” quietly. 

A couple of knights were talking inside and barely noticed them, but saluted as they recognised the traveler as the honorary knight. Two of which started to whisper, but Diluc took no notice. He instead opened the door to the library and found a couch he could lay the traveler down on. The traveler, still deep asleep, tossed a little as they were set down, but didn’t seem to be disturbed at all. Diluc crouched down to move one of the cushions before noticing the dark circles beneath the travellers eyes. He knew they were busy with journeying around Fontaine and Sumeru, but he didn’t realise they’d been so tired. He scanned the room for some paper and grabbed some note paper before quickly scrawling a note reading. ‘Take a break. You are more important than your reputation.’. His neat handwriting was disrupted by the ink bleeding from the rush but he didn’t mind much. He went to place it into the travelers hand, before drawing a small, simplistic eagle on the edge of the note as a signature of sorts. Diluc turned to walk away before again going back- This time to place his jacket on the traveler and taking the note from their hand to ontop of the jacket. 

He had company when he left the library. The acting grandmaster was leaning against the wall by the door, waving at Diluc as he left. 

‘Hey. I see you’ve changed your mind about the Knights, Master Diluc,’ She spoke softly, gesturing towards the library where the traveler was sleeping, ‘Or atleast.. A little.’ Diluc sighed and folded his arms, turning to face Jean. 

‘Not in the slightest. I’m just looking after them as a friend, not because they’re honorary knight.’ He shook his head and started walking away. 

It was well after noon when the traveler woke up and found themselves in the library. Lisa had noticed them earlier, but let them be after remarking how cute they looked, snoring like a kitten. They sat up, looked around and brushed their hair out of their face and noticed the note ontop of Diluc’s jacket. For the first time in a while, they smiled just a bit.

[ectoodle]

Hello! I wanted to ask what made you fall in love with bingqiu?

Hey there!

Ah hmm that's an interesting question, I've never thought about it actually. I like bingqiu a lot, but I never considered it as falling in love with the ship? They're a fun ship to play with and they have a wide range that's pretty flexible so I'm always in my comfort zone drawing them.

I suppose most of the art I draw for bingqiu are a love letter to them, though. And I think that's pretty telling of my brain rot for them 😂

I think the food the fandom cooked up really helped a lot. SV fic writers are on a whole other plane of existence when it comes to analyzing binghe's character and filling in on his journey of healing with sqq by his side. I'm the annoying type of audience that gets bored when the main couple gets together at the end...so when scum villain ended the way it did, mxtx may as well have german suplexed me on the concrete. scum villain is a story that subverts its tropes left and right and the ending was no exception! I love that bingqiu getting together at the end was not an automatic happily ever after, but rather, they still are putting in the work and effort to understand and stay in each other's lives. The glimpse of that path we get in the extras really did solidify my desire to see how bingqiu will continue to stay together--bingmei vs bingge extra was probably the finishing blow for me tho lmao. I couldn't stop thinking about what the heck happened to bingge after he left the sv world that I read a bunch of fics about him and needed to soothe the angst with sv bingqiu

on a side tangent, bingqiu parallels another of my all time ship, nozomizo from liz and the blue bird. mild spoilers if you haven't seen liz, but nozomizo had a similar codependent relationship that needed them both to grow apart as individuals in order to stay together. bingqiu separated unwillingly and binghe's growth as an individual was fueled by betrayal, despair, and that dying glimmer of hope that maybe, maybe shizun could accept him now that they're equals. but they don't. because binghe still hasn't emotionally grown to get past his temper tantrums (thanks xin mo) and sqq is still failing binghe by constantly misunderstanding him. but bingqiu still choose each other, choose to love and support each other, and they refuse to be separated again. whereas nozomizo was a healthy separation with a promise of reunion, bingqiu was fighting through the muddy trenches with a vague hope that the other is reaching out their hands too. i thought it was neat how differently both ships handled their codependency that still guarantees a happy ending, no matter how dirty and bruised they got along the way.

I also think sqq's compassionate narration in regards to binghe's suffering got to me lmao. He truly does care for binghe, and even if naysayers argue it's not romantic, it's undeniable that binghe is special to sqq. although not the best choices, most if not all of his choices were for binghe's best interest (thanks system). sqq had so much heart for binghe that it affected me through the screen too. binghe's abandonment issues and fake wet tears have captivated me. his gap moe as a chuuni emo demonic overlord and wife with a maidenly glass heart has bewitched me body and soul. i want luo binghe to be happy so badly!!

i think that's why bingqiu fascinates me. most of the bingqiu arts i draw are like slice of life vignettes, so without the meat and bones of fanfic diving into bingqiu's messiness, i would not have ascended to this level of brain rot for them...

[beskarinhyperspace]

Moon Dust

You wanted more from him, everything really..

More Chapters | MASTERLIST

4. The Promise

*Mature, Explicit, NSFW*

Din Djarin x fem.reader

Word Count:  4.2k 

A/N: Had a lot of fun doing this one, hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

You woke up noticing that the warrior was no longer at your side. Confused, you pulled yourself from the ground and grabbed your cape. Tying it around your neck, to cover yourself from the cold morning air. The sun was already up but the sky was still cloudy, making the world a little gray. Hearing all sorts of noises coming from inside the ship, you decided to take a closer look.    

What is he doing now.. you wondered. 

As you stepped in, you saw the place all cleaned up. Almost as if the wreckage never happened. After a moment, you saw the men I  beskar come out of a room, looking in your direction, "Good you're awake, I repaired the shower and fixed some things.” Taking a bar of ration before handing it to you. "Here breakfast" he said, going back to move some things around while you tried to open it. He continued to speak to you while remaining focused, "I used my jet this morning to have a look around. I couldn't see any signs of others. It appears that we're alone here." He paused, straightening his back before looking straight at you. "The ship's navigation system was hit pretty badly, we can't fly with it." He proceeded, turning his helmet towards another door. "You can sleep there." saying as he points at it. 

You were still confused, with half a bite still in your mouth, you asked, "we’re stuck here?" not removing your eyes from him. 

He nodded in confirmation, "I'm going to continue working on the ship. The electrical can be fixed. We could use the ship as shelter. The water is taken from the humidity in the air before being filtered. Until we find another way out. This planet is, for the time being, our home..” 

The realization made you overwhelmed. All the air in the world seemed to have disappeared and you couldn't remember how to breathe. Not able to keep your eyes to stay focus, you ran outside as quickly as you possibly could. Having this cold and stabbing feeling in your chest. You stumbled on your feet as you felt dizzy, walking to your stuff still laid out on the ground near the firepit.  

He had followed you out. Looking at you the way you had previously looked at him, concerned and powerless.  

I have to see my brother..  

You tried to anchor yourself, falling to your knees before placing your hands on the log in front of you. As he walked towards you, you began to shiver. Talking low to yourself "I can't.. I promised, I can't stay here.." 

Kneeling at your side, he took your arm, bringing you closer to him and up to his chest. Holding you still as you started to cry. You couldn't help but fall into his arms. Letting your body be numb for him to move around and make you more comfortable. After a moment of just letting yourself to be held. You felt the cold of the beskar but also the warmth coming from the fabric of his clothing.  

Stuffy nose and eyes made of glass. Your gaze was stuck on his arm brace. Starring, trying to come back from the emotions. He didn't need to speak, and you appreciate the silence, although you did feel like you owed him an explanation since he gave you his. 

You talked low and slow.. "To be in the clan you have to pass a test. My father sent my brother and I to training with other younglings. Preparing us for the test when we are of age. I knew it had to do with tactical and defense but, I wasn't prepared for what they put us through. Me and my brother were extremely close, doing everything together. They put us in all sorts of scenarios and probabilities and I quickly discovered I was athletic and got praised for my skills. They made us fight until we couldn't stand anymore. Sometimes I thought I was going to pass out."  

He squeezed you in slightly, feeling him breathing deeper as you continued; "my clan.. we endured so much together, we grew up together, and were there for one another. My clan is my family."  

"Then why did you ran from them?" he asked in his low, soft, modulated voice.  

“When we took the test, we were told that part of it was the training. To see if we were made to be warriors. The last test was a fighting tournament, choosing the clan's next leader. After hours of combat, me and my brother were finalists. I will never forget the look in his eyes when I laid my knife on his throat, making me the next clan leader. 

He tilted his helmet down to you, "Wasn't that a good thing?" 

You shook your head, "My clan hasn't seen a female leader since.. Well, actually never. From that day, he turned cold on me and to the world. When my little brother was old enough to take the test, Rylan he.. when we were training..” 

"Rylan killed your younger brother?"  

You took a deep breath, "I was there that night. We were on a planet just like this one, full of trees and rivers. I was supposed to meet Yusa to help him with the training but when I had eyes on him, I saw my little brother near the cliff we were supposed to meet up. Rylan pushed him off, down the cliff and ran away. The thing is my brother didn't know that there was an under edge to the cliff. I used to train often there with another clan members. I knew there was no real danger, but Rylan didn't know that."  

His body stayed still as he passed his fingertips on your shoulder, "He's alive then? So.. why leave?"  

"My father was scared that his need for power would make him kill Yusa. My mother took care of it, sending him away without telling anyone where he was for his own safety. My father, being also scared of me, did the same. Marrying me off to a prestigious name given by no other than my older brother himself. Thinking it would calm things.. but the man was horrible. Thank you for killing him by the way.." 

"You're welcome." He replied, "so you needed me to take you without anyone knowing you were going to join your younger brother?" Tilting his helmet on its side while staring down at you, still in his arm.  

You nodded, "That's correct. My mother was planning to send me to the same place. Training him to be a fighter as well. Living away from all this." 

You could feel him despite the armor, steady breaths calming you down. You finally looked up to him as he looked down on you. Pushing a strand of hair out of your face, using the back of his gloved finger to dry off some of the tears on your cheek, sighing deeply, "My job is to protect you and bring you safely to your destination. I promise to do everything within my abilities to make it true." 

The reality was, he didn’t have a choice. You had bewitched him since the day he came back to nevarro. You were all he could think about. And now with this new given information, he wanted you safer than ever before. He knew they would come to find you and try to bring you back. Especially if you were meant to be their clan leader. He didn't know you that much, but he knew that protecting you was the right thing to do.  

__ 

As the day came to an end, you began moving into your quarters. Dropping your bag on your new bed, you let out some sleeping clothes, laying them on the covers. 

“I’m going to use the fresher, the water is working you said?” stating more than asking. 

You could see him from the opened ramp. Sitting on the log in front of the fire pit outside. 

“Yes, I’ve placed a new bar of soap on the counter for you.” He responded, turning his helmet towards you. He sighed hearing the door of the fresher being closed. Fixating on the flames in front of him. He figured you guys were somewhat safe here. They would never suspect you to still be this close to them. You haven’t been long enough in hyperspace to be far but, they didn’t know that. They also wouldn’t suspect you to be on a planet with literally nothing on it. And it gave him some brief peace of mind before his mind began to play tricks on him. Imagining your naked body still damp from the shower, dripping on him. He grunted, trying to think about, well, something else...   

__ 

After you put some clothes on, you started to prep the ship for the night. Closing the ramp and some unnecessary lights. Moving to the open kitchen to clean around a bit, seeing the door of the fresher not completely closed shut as you heard him move inside. 

“No, I can’t look..” telling yourself as you investigate the light gap.  

Moving closer, you saw the light of the fresher over the mirror and only a part of the sink. When suddenly you have the side of his butt cheek coming into frame. Instinctively you closed your eyes. “I can’t..” you reminded yourself. “He took a creed, whatever that means..” Except, your curiosity was stronger than your will, opening one eye slowly... 

Noticing his tan glowing skin from the fresher’s light. Moving your gaze upwards, you could see his arm muscles more clearly. Contracting as he barely moved. You examined the scars on his body from various past injuries. He looked firm but there’s was a softness to him. Something more human perhaps, move vulnerable. Maybe it was in the way he moved, as if every movement had a distinct purpose. You were starting to feel shame and guilt as a tightness formed in your chest, turning quickly around to go back into your room.  

But you weren’t quick enough, as the door of the fresher opened, and instantly feel your heart drop to your stomach. 

You heard his modulated voice coming from behind, “Are you okay?” he asked worryingly. 

What kind of six sense is this?  

You turned around slowly to face him. You could see him clear as day. A hand on the door and the other one holding the towel on his waist. You noticed his broad shoulders, his chest defined and his muscular arms that could kill a man without a sweat. He had his helmet on, looking straight at you. 

You couldn’t find the words to speak. Feeling intimidated by the sight of him. Not knowing where to look, you start speaking nervously, “Yes, I am, thank you. I was going to sleep actually...” you let out now staring at the floor. 

“Good” he replied as his body relaxes. “Tomorrow we should go explore some grounds.” 

You agreed, nodding, “Goodnight Mandalorian.”  

As you turned back around, he lowered his gaze to the ground, “nite..” 

You gave him a little smile before moving away. Closing the door behind you as you moved onto your bed. You couldn’t stop thinking about the almost naked man that was in front you, grand and glowing from the fresher’s light, standing there just staring at you. You felt that pinching in your chest again. I can’t, he can’t.. That would never happen.. 

__ 

Morning came and you were feeling already better than yesterday. Going down the ramp you saw your new roommate coming back to the ship’s camp.  

“Good morning.” you greeted him. 

He looked at you while walking closer, “You’re awake.. brought some fruits I found.”  

“You found all of this, this morning?” looking inside the cloth bag.  

He took a moment before talking. “I figured you’d want some variety. Haven't found vegetables yet...”  

You can’t help but smile at him. “Thank you, that’s very thoughtful.” before grabbing a green and orange fruit out of it. “Are you not eating?” 

“I ate not long ago. I couldn’t sleep... I–” He cuts himself off. Staying still, staring at you while you ate. After a moment you looked up to him, raising an eyebrow. Realizing he’s fixating, he moved quickly. moving his gaze away, now looking straight to the ground. Talking to himself in a low voice as he went back onto the ship.  

He didn’t know how to act around you anymore. No one had ever seen him the way you saw him yesterday. The way you were looking at him, the look in your eyes... He knew what you were thinking about. He also couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of your presence in his arms, holding you close to his chest and how he wanted so badly to have it again. 

You look at him moving away confused. You were starting to enjoy his company but understood that he might still be shaken by the current circumstances. By contrast, the rigid man had a warmth to him. You felt safe in his presence, and you knew he wanted your well-being as much as you wanted his. 

Finishing your fruits, you threw the seed into the fire pit before moving inside the ship to change. 

__ 

You came back in your combat outfit and your tactical backpack with all your necessities, food, water and some change of clothes. You never truly know how these explorations can go. No choice than packing for a couple of days. 

You saw him near the camp, being also ready to leave. Watching him put his spear behind on his back. Remaining silent, he began to walk inside the forest and you followed right behind. 

There was a moment where none of you were speaking but you didn’t mind it too much. You didn’t even know where you’re going, you just followed his lead. Hearing the sky rumbling while turning gray, as you looked to the man in beskar move in front of you. Wanting so badly to be closer to him. You sighed as you looked away. 

He stops, anchored in place as you passed him. “Are you okay?”  

You froze a little, you’ve been silent for hours now. You looked to the ground not knowing what to say. “Yes, I'm okay, thank you.”  

He doesn’t move, so you turned your head to him, “Did I do something? What’s wrong?” not understanding why he’s still unmoved. 

“You, what’s wrong?” he demanded with a soft modulated voice. 

You’re taken aback, not knowing how to respond, you began to panic, not wanting him to worry about you. “I’m fine I told you, can we move on, please?” You can’t exactly say that it’s him who makes you feel this way now can you? 

He tilts his head on its side before looking around. “Come,” he said as he changed path. 

“Where are we going?” frowning your eyebrows, but he didn’t reply. 

After a while, you see a small cave inside of what seemed like a cliff. Greenery surrounding it and vines covering the outside walls.  

“This will do just fine.” Stating as he walked forward to the side of it. He looked at you before he stopped, “We can camp here tonight. I see you’re not all here today; we've had a rough couple of days, let’s not push ourselves. We can continue tomorrow.” He says and you nodded in agreement. 

You entered the cave to have a look inside. Nothing much going on, it’s not only empty, but also quite small, but for tonight it will do. It will give you shelter for the rain that’s coming.  

You turned to go back out when you saw him coming to the entrance with some wood.  

“It will start to rain soon better be prepared. I grabbed some for tomorrow as well.” Moving to put them inside the cave.  

As he passed in front of you, you couldn’t help but smell him. Spices, leather and beskar. You looked up closing your eyes as you questioned the maker on how long this feeling was going to last. 

__ 

The sky was getting dark when the rain started. You were waiting in the cave for him to come back. He told you he would return quickly but it had been a moment since he had left. Making you begin to worry, wondering what could take this long. 

After a moment you can’t take it anymore. Tying your cape around your neck, you put your hood on. As you walked out you could barely see anything as it started to pour, limiting your visibility. You tried to call him, moving around. “Mandalorian!? Man ..Mandalorian!!?” 

Still blinded by the rain, you heard a stumping sound before an arm grabbed you by your waist, just like the first time he touched you. Without hesitation, he moved you to the cavern. Covering you as much as he could with his body. The questions started as soon as you were inside. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt??” he asked nervously, looking at you from every angle. 

You’re embarrassed, walking back into the wall behind you staring at the ground. “No, I- I'm fine. I just worried. You didn’t come as quick and, I-“ 

He stopped you in your ramble. His body tensing in contrast to his low modulated voice. “You were scared...” 

You nodded, not wanting to look into his visor, which felt almost like a confrontation, but you opened your mouth, “I’m sorry, I should’ve stayed put, like you asked. I just panicked. It usually never happens. It won’t happen again “ 

You tried to control your breathing as he pushed a strand of hair, damp and sticking to the side of your face.  

“You never need to apologize to me, cyare.” Letting his fingertips glide along the side of your neck. Realizing what he’s doing, he straightens his back, letting out a short cough before moving his hand away as he goes to sit on the floor. 

You followed, grabbing a blanket from your bag and spreading it on the floor. You invited him to sit next to you. He lit up a stable flame, moving it across the cave before he came to the blanket. Sitting next to you on the ground with his back resting against the wall. 

“Where are we going exactly?” you asked as you spread your cape over your bag to let it dry. 

He continued to look straight in front of him as he answered you. “I saw a lake when I used my jetpack a few days ago. Thought we might find something interesting.” He moved his helmet to you when he noticed you were not making a noise. As he looked closer, he didn’t miss the way your eyes looked lost. He knew the situation was unique, but he also had been in worst situations, and so did you, he’d imagined. “Are you ok?” 

You felt tired and exasperated. “Yes, I'm fine Mandalo–” 

“Din, please.” Cutting you off before looking away as quickly. You stared at him with surprised eyes before he continued. “My name is Din, Din Djarin..” You stayed silent as he turned back to you. “Do- do you, have a name?” nervously asking as he didn't know how to approach you. 

“I don’t.” you answer honestly. “My parents gave us nicknames until we were of age, giving the clan power to name us according to our strengths. I prefer to forget about it since I'm not going back.” Answering with your voice breaking. You moved lower, using a piece of clothing as a pillow and he does the same, lying on his back next to you. 

As you moved on your side, face away from him. You could hear his breathing as the tightness in your chest came back. He moved slightly, now facing your back. You felt your hair being pushed out of its way, not wanting to tug it while sleeping.  

After a moment you sensed him move around. Trying to stay calm and focused, you kept your eyes closed, feeling gloveless fingers softly caressing the side of your neck. Sending this electric sensation into your breasts as he passed them below your ear. Your breathing becoming more present, you remained still as he came to press himself closer to your body. 

Moving the tips of them to your shoulder, to your back and to the side of your stomach. He goes to grab you by the waist as he moved his chest deeper into your back. Bringing his hips slightly closer as you felt his hardness on you. He went under your shirt, taking his hand higher to your breast as he caresses the underside of it. You could hear him, breathing heavily, going upwards to fully take it in his palm. You let out a pleasured sound, head moving slightly back.  

He squeezed it softly before moving it down towards the inside of your pants. At this point all you could think of was him, touching you, wanting everything he was willing to give you. You wanted more from him, everything really. His fingertips came cautiously to your clit. Making you instantly melt at the sensitivity as he moved them slowly. You let out some pleasured sounds as he groaned, moving his hips and taking his time grinding on your curves.  

“You’re soft, so..." Saying as he moved his digits lower between your folds. 

Feeling the slick already dripping, he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a desperate humming noise. You couldn’t take it anymore as you felt his digits softly brushing and teasing around your entrance. The need was making you blind with lust as you turned around to face him. You sit to remove your shirt and he grabbed your arm, taking you closer to him as soon as you were done. Moving your legs on each side of his hips. You anchored yourself over him starting to grind on his already harden length, hearing him grunt low as he watched you move on him.  

You looked desperate for him, but you didn’t care. His hardness feeling like ecstasy on your needy pussy, long and sturdy just for you. 

With a hand on the side of your thigh, he took his other one to grab your breast, pressing and massaging it. Naturally, you let out a deep, opened mouth moan as the feeling intensifies. Meanwhile, his breathing was becoming short and harsh.  

“You look.. oah, so beautiful cyare..” admiring you, moving his hips with yours. 

He let go of your tit to grab both of your thighs. Stopping them in their movements and starts lifting his hip upwards as he rubbed his thickness on your sensitive clit over the fabric. The pleasure starting to feel unbearable, you began to whine. Making him move quicker, faster and harder against you. Watching you push out his new favorite sounds as he starts panting.  

You put your hands on the wall behind his head to make you more stable, but he grabs one of them. Pulling you lower closer to him. He places a hand on your lower back pushing down as he continues to move and grind himself on you. Hearing the pleasure being louder in your voice. He pushed you down to his chest, holding you tight as he moved slower while making sure the pressure was right.  

You let your head fall into his neck. Smelling him, so warm and inviting as one of his arms wrapped around your waist, locking you in. While his other hand holds the back of your head. You took a finger to move his scarf a bit, giving you access to some skin. Pressing your tongue flat on it, going from one side to the other and swirling your tongue around, sucking lightly. 

He chuckled while panting harder. “A’ohh.. This can’t be real..” you heard him say deep through his modulator 

You don’t have time to speak before an electric light comes inside you. Making you come on his clothed dick, whining like you already belong to him. The sweet sounds pushed into his ear made him grunt as he came over the edge as well. Slowing down his movements, he pets the back of your head while holding you in place. Both staying unmoved, catching your breath.  

You swallowed before speaking. “What can’t be real?”  

Trying to regulate his breathing, he took a moment before answering in a raspy voice, “You.” 

--

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[in-my-feels-probably]

Hi! I saw you're 1000 followers celebration (congratulations!!) and I was wondering if I could request option two for a romantic grishaverse matchup? I'm a straight cis female.

Appearance wise, I'm 5'8" and a I have dark brown eyes and long curly dark brown hair. I also wear glasses but mostly just at home other wise I'm wearing contacts most of the time. I like wearing makup but I try to make it look as natural as possible. Style wise, it kinda switches up a bit but most of my closet kinda conists of jeans, hoodies, crop tops and graphic tees.

Personality - I'm pretty introverted unless I'm with friends or people I'm comfortable with in which case I can be pretty outgoing. Once I'm comfortable around you it can be hard to get me to shut up. I can be pretty anxious at times and overthink a lot. I'm pretty emotional but only around certain people that I have to be REALLY comfortable with otherwise I tend to just act like everythings fine. I tend to be a bit more on the argumentative side although I try to tone it down a bit and see everything from the other persons poin of view. I'm very loyal to the people I love and will do anything for them.

Likes: Summer, the color blue, baking, basketball, baseball, swimming, reading, dogs

Dislikes: Bugs (mainly spiders), math, and people who can't admit when they've made a mistake

Hogwarts house: Hufflepuff

MBTI: INFP

Zodiac: Sagittarius sun, Sagittarius rising, and Libra moon

Thank you so much!!🤍🩵

hi!

thanks for participating :)

i ship you with kaz!

i’m not sure what it is about you, i just think he’d be really drawn to you. you strike me as a person who doesn’t really a person that stands out, and that’s a good thing. i’m like that too. mundanity is underrated, and i think of all the chaos in kaz’s life, he needs a little consistency and comfortable familiarity. you’re lighter than the barrel, and a welcome distraction.

i think kaz appreciated introvertedness. while he can handle group hangouts and is good at carrying himself in public, i think he really prefers peace and quiet alone. sitting with you is more than enough for him. that’s probably how you’d stared getting close. at first, it would just be sitting in comfortable silence with each other. you’d read or do something to entertain yourself in his office while he did paperwork. but it would slowly transition into talking, and then he’d find himself missing your presence whenever you’d be gone. he’d love listening to you, comforted by you. it didn’t matter what you were talking about, it just stroked his ego to know he was the one you were trusting and confiding in.

the biggest issue between you would be how argumentative you are, and how he’s not willing to admit when he’s wrong. kaz has a lot of pride, but he’d come to realize that arguing with you was a waste of his time, he’d try and stop being stubborn about it. plus, he’d never like seeing you mad at him or upset, so he really would put in the effort to try and start admitting his mistakes, at least to you. it would take him a hot minute to ever admit he was wrong to the crows.

i think kaz appreciates a good book. he might not have a lot of time for reading, but he finds the time for it. it keeps his mind sharp. he’d pay attention to the books you like, every once in a while getting you a new one that he’d leave in his office. he’d come into his office one day to see you curled up in a chair, already reading the new book he got you.

“i keep this office locked, you know,” he’d say, although he didn’t look the least surprised by you being there.

you’d smile, setting down your book. “you know as well as i do that i have a key. thank you for the book, by the way.”

“do you like it?”

“i do,” you’d say, pulling your chair up to sit next to his desk. “did you?”

he’d hide a smile, keeping his nose in his work. but he’d answer your questions, and he’d pretend like he couldn’t see you blushing when he answered.

“i found it a bit cheerful for my taste…but it made me think of you. i figured you’d like it.”

you’d smile, going back to your book while you let him work.

—

hope you liked this! thanks again for participating :)

[dsandrvk]

Monday, August 5 - Kuri Bay

We had a fairly relaxing day today - there was only one excursion, and it was fairly short, and there weren't as many lectures and activities as usual (although there was Trivia). Our trip ashore was around 11, so we spent some time sitting on our balcony before and catching up on emails, news, etc.

Kuri Bay has been the site of pearl farming for around 100 years, starting with Japanese who mainly harvested the oysters for the mother-of-pearl which was used in everything from jewelry, decoration, and especially buttons. After the advent of plastic buttons the industry languished for a while, but then was reborn as a cultured pearl farm. The oysters are "seeded" with a bit of material, and then put on racks here in Kuri Bay, where they are allowed to grow for two years, being regularly cleaned (for barnacles, etc.) After two years, the oysters are harvested and the pearl is removed. If it is considered to be a saleable pearl, the oyster gets seeded a second time for another two years - if not, the meat is harvested and sold and the shell is saved for the nacre, or mother-of-pearl.

We took a tour of the facility here, with the lodging and recreational areas - the actual real sorting, grading, etc. is back in corporate HQ in Darwin. It's a two week on, one week off schedule, and everyone gets around by Mallard seaplane. While we were there, our ship offered seaplane rides, which were fairly expensive for about 10 minutes in the air.

Near the end of our tour we got to a lovely overlook point, and could see the bay and the entire operation below. We descended to a covered area with fans (it was quite hot in the sun, and although this is the "dry"season, it was still plenty humid). Here our guide opened an oyster to see what we could find, opening it completely (something they don't do if they are going to reseed the oyster). Inside was a fairly nice pearl, on the smallish size, but round and with a nice luster. We were the sixth group, and in the little dish are the pearls from the first five pearls as well. "Ours" was the lower one on the right in the picture. One of the interesting things is that there is always a little pea crab inside the oyster - it seems to be a symbiotic relationship, and every healthy oyster has one. I wasn't sure what future it has when its oyster is harvested.

After the unveiling of the pearl, we passed their small sales area - these are not cheap pearls, and the least expensive was several thousand dollars. According to some folks who went to the stores in Broome, these are among the most expensive and are probably pricier here than in their showroom in Broome. They also had samples of the oyster meat - it was a bit like scallops (no surprise there), as well as some with a little teriyaki type sauce, which was delicious along with a glass of Australian bubbly (it was after noon, after all!).

The water here is much clearer than some of the other places we have been along the coast, and as we walked back on the pier to the Zodiacs, we saw a smallish shark in the water. According to the locals it was probably a tawny nurse shark. I did forget to mention that I saw my first Aussie crocodile yesterday while we were in Talbot Bay, swimming towards our ship. It looked like a log with the naked eye, but when I got the binoculars on it, it was a pretty good sized specimen. By the time I raised the camera, though, it had sunk below the surface. We should get some chances to see more crocs when we get to Hunter River tomorrow.

Our team finally won in trivia, and now have a reputation to uphold - we were lucky to know several answers that no other team got, and that gave us double points for those answers. Mostly, though, it is just luck when the questions align with our somewhat arcane knowledge. But there are a lot of laughs, and our cruise director, Lupi, makes it really fun.

Tomorrow we move up the coast to another area with lots of exposed ancient sandstone and mangrove forests, and it should be good for wildlife viewing. We will have two Zodiac excursions to slightly different habitats, so it should be interesting. Sailing away from Kuri Bay this afternoon we could see all the markers for the oyster racks - tomorrow it should be a good deal wilder.

[nathank77]

3/20/24

5:06 a.m

Now on to my glasses. They retested me. Both eyes at the sametime then both eyes individually. Per me asking for it. They even did distance.

So my distance is absolutely correct. My reading they said bc I see no difference that I shouldn't do progressives. That's a good thing bc obv in my last post i went over cost, frame size and choices. It will save me a lot of money and allow me to wear my glasses more fashionably.. I got the Ray-Bans and then my two half frames. The only other pair I want is rimless bc for some reason I think they'll look good. I can't afford them atm... but maybe soon... if they look awful I'll return them.

The best part about not having to get progressives eye wear is I can keep my lense height nice and short! In that 29-31 range. I prefer that but these Ray-Bans are 34. Either way I like them.

The second best part is I was right, if I got progressives my eye sight would go drastically downhill and I'd be so beyond depend on glasses within a year or 2. My lenses would get more expensive. I'd be a blind bat and it's better to wait until it's at that point where there is a difference and i could actually benefit from them than deteriorating my eye sight rapidly.

Beyond that UNFORTUNATELY my eye wear company processed that they shipped my glasses. So they are not a freebie. I called and yea they know I got them. So I guess there are no Oakley Airdrops, unfortunately... as theses were 270$ and my two half frames were 51$ together..

I'm not happy they they weren't a freebie despite the fact that the nose area got more comfortable now, i dont notice the "pressure." The part behind my ears are squeezed when I wear them all day. I'm trying to stretch them out but they seem unbentable... maybe I will switch to Oakley air drops as they are straight in the arm area but then I got to return the Ray-Bans and the Oakley are heavier so I got to consider that...

I guess I got to look at it like this, the Ray-Bans or Oakley if I decide to switch, are an investment in my future eye wear. When I get my new prescription in March 2025. I can get my insurance pair, I'm going to upgrade them to anti reflective and maybe polycarbonate but idk. Polycarbonate is 40$ extra. Anti reflective is 80$. The anti reflective is non-negotiable that's why i my old insurance pair seemed cloudly bc the anti reflective is put on both sides. I thought it was just for the viewer... and I was like who cares.. but it also controls reflections from my view point explaining the cloudiness.. although I got to make sure the frames are a perfect fit and style otherwise it isn't worth at least going anti reflective... I prob won't do polycarbonate.

But I kinda got off track. Instead of buying new frames whether I keep the Ray-Bans or switch to Oakley I'll go to a reputable eye wear company in town and have them replace the lenses. So the cost of the frames won't be a waste. I can wear them for years to come...it cost about 70-80 with low grade scripts. Obv I got to get the anti reflective with them and not from my eye wear place my insurance wouldn't cover replacing the lenses... I'll call around and find the best cost with the most perks for the lenses.

Then I'll probably buy a couple half frames and maybe a rimless in the new script as long as they are cheap. I really like being fashionable with my glasses since I have to wear them.

I still got to figure out if I should switch frames.. I'm going to keep bending them... idk if it'll work but it's annoying cause I can't apply too much pressure I can't afford to break them.

Also these are the rimless I'm considering.. I'm kinda mad at my eye wear company for 2 reasons they disregarded keeping my item on hold and fulfilled it anyways. And then the last employee I talked to was rude af and sighed at me. They are making me send them my script too... instead of trusting that my script is -.25 in both eyes... and the astigmatism in the right eye.

But yea. I hope I can try these frames and bend the Ray-Bans to be completely comfortable

These are 136 width so they could be tight. Also they are dorky but I kinda like them. I could always return them. Idk...

[olivereactsaboutgarbage]

One Piece - Volume 34

Oohhgghh... oh god... what year is it...?

Yeah so my plan after canceling my daily posts for all of December was to return on the 24th and 25th and be gone again on the 26th, and I did that. Then I had the idea of revisiting all my posts to remind myself what stuff I could call back to and fix any typos along the way, and it uh.

It wasn’t supposed to take until the 22nd. It wasn’t supposed to take ALMOST A MONTH. But uh. It did. And I’m never doing that again which means from now on I’m no longer adhering to my rule about not fixing my typos if I notice them. Which was uh. A rule I was following before.

Anyway, the lesson I think I’ve learned from all of this is that I don’t really need to hold myself to arbitrary productivity standards when it comes to This, The Least Essential Aspect of My Life. Especially since I’m probably going to need to stop being jobless soon so I don’t run out of money and also various hobby-style self-led unpaid projects have become much more prevalent in my life.

However, you may be wondering... was jotting down a bunch of details about all of my posts on this blog up until this point even worth it...? Heh... watch and learn, kid...

Chapter 317 - K.O.

The Depression Game’s announcer reveals himself to have a weakness Lufpy doesn’t. Becaaaauuuuse... REMEMBER??? Lufpy can’t see tears!

The horse hunters start cheering for Lufpy, but there’s no way Lufpy can hear them. Becaaaauuuuse... REMEMBER??? Lufpy’s been deaf since Chapter 201!

Quadruple-H is sick of this. He starts performing various tricks, like turning his ability to make people lose into a blade, and standing on a stupid airplanimal. Sanji gives Lufpy advice on how to dodge this but it isn’t even helpful.

Next, Lufpy and Quadruple-H decide to mimic the iconic clash between ora and muda. In fact, Lufpy was so dedicated to mimicking that, he was holding glass and probably cutting his hand just so he could also include the “Your ability to stop time doesn’t actually mean you’re not the same as me” portion, as well as the portion where the person who says that wins.

Chapter 318 - Closure

The percentage of the horse hunters that are on Saving Quadruple-H From Drowning Duty is the same percentage of Lufpy’s crew that Sanji is.

LUFPY YOU BASTARD!!! I WAS TRYING TO NOT LOSE!!!

ZORO’S MOTIVATION FOR BEING GLAD LUFPY ACCEPTED THE CHALLENGE CONFIRMED AS WANTING TO GET ENSLAVED BY THE OTHER GUYS??? BUT ALSO THAT WAS A DESIRE HE’D PUT ZERO ACTUAL THOUGHT INTO? DUMBASS???

Anyway, Quadruple-H decides the best revenge is a life well lived and gives himself a head injury so that he’ll forget his loss ever happened.

I like the idea that if Lufpy enslaved Sonie or Gina he’d have an even Noncombatanter Noncombatant than Nami, Usopp, or Tony Tony Chopper. Like someone who simply Does Not engage in combat At All. That’d be an interesting One Piece character.

Anyway punchline achieved. I saw this punchline coming like a month ago.

Although Lufpy doesn’t actually want to start a flag collection at the expense of the horse hunters’ ship’s usability, so he just gives THEM a new flag for THEIR collection instead. That’s awfully nice of him. That’s like if someone tried to kill you so you gave them your autograph unprompted, and also later you were planning on becoming Elvis Presley.

said the person with the least of a right to say that humanly possible

Nico Robin’s imposing cop rival is also here. He’s heterosexual. Speaking of heterosexuality, REMEMBER??? REMEMBER how Sanji is a Zoro who wields rice and would be a weakness-free master of the weapon triangle if he ever got rich?

Chapter 319 - Admiral Aokiji of the Navy Headquarters

Nico Robin’s cop rival isn’t just any cop rival, he’s one of the Three Really Strong Cops. This brings the total of really strong guys to (7 - 1) + 3. Uh, soon to be (7 - 1) + 1 + 3. It also brings the number of protagonists with really strong rivals up to 2 by my count.

Oh, this is the most relatable Zoro has ever been so far. I too think people should just do math when there are various numbers happening to them.

The funny man who’s friends with a horse is here to remind everyone that normies like cops, in case anyone forgot.

The rival cop decides to help the horse and the horse’s friend using his Devil Fruit power: anti-drowning power. Hey wait, that’s cheating! If you have anti-drowning Devil Fruit powers that’s called turning off the downsides! Speaking of turning off the downsides... REMEMBER??? Lufpy has Nami trapped within the crosshairs of his Rapid Zoro Oscillation attack!

The rival cop reveals that besides being Nico Robin’s rival, he also wanted to see Lufpy’s grandfather’s grandson. Now he’s skipping to the part where he behaves murderously.

Chapter 320 - Ultimate Military Force

Oh, just like [spoilers for my unreleased fiction redacted]! Except minus the word “every”. And minus the word “survives”. In fact... I might as well have not said that. Speaking of things I might as well not say... REMEMBER??? The devices I’ve been calling “bananas” were originally called BetterCompasses by me!

Anyway, Nico Robin gets mad and decides to kill her rival. He decides that’s as good an excuse as any to try out that tried-and-true murder mystery trick, “stabbing someone with an icicle.” Except all three members of the Hypercompetent Combatant Trio don’t want him to. That doesn’t matter much to him though. He simply changes his plans to “flipping Nico Robin’s switch to activate Fragile Mode”. Next what happens is her friends play keep-away.

Having seen what happened last time (Zoro and Sanji were just as eager to attack the cop rival as he was), Lufpy decides now’s a good time to remind everyone about his rule about 1v1s. Speaking of reminders... REMEMBER??? Nami is the dad and Lufpy is the mom!

Chapter 321 - One-on-One

The...

The chapter name is...

WAIT DOES THE MERRY GO HAVE A BATHROOM??? THIS ENTIRE TIME??? Wait, I guess that’s extremely good compared to the alternative. Speaking of choosing between being extremely good and an alternative... REMEMBER??? Zoro is the protagonist of Undertale!

Usopp calls Sanji a coward, so Sanji tries to kill him. Zoro thinks murder is bad, though. Speaking of Zoro thinking murder is bad... REMEMBER??? Wait, shit, I literally just did that one, never mind.

Lufpy is kind of in a bad spot here. As highlighted by the fact that he was immune to electricity, he should be very weak against ice. You know, because his Pokemon type is Ground, just like I said when he was immune to Electric.

...Okay that was supposed to be a comedic bait-and-switch but when I Googled “ice vs rubber” all the top results were related to something called... either “Blox Piece” or “Blox Fruits” it’s kind of unclear. I could’ve sworn the climax of that one particularly horny-for-Jessica Fantastic Four movie was that Reed Richards was weak against ice because he was rubber, but maybe the literal only place where ice fights rubber is One Piece, and maybe the literal only people who care about that are people who play Roblox. I guess my only way of proving otherwise... would be to watch a subpar movie from 2005 myself. I’ve been using Google, which is how I now know it’s from 2005.

Anyway, Lufpy loses, but the horny-for-Jessica rival cop can’t do anything about it, because of the rule about 1v1s and also the fact that he owed Lufpy a favor. By the way I’m going to be calling him “the horny-for-Jessica rival cop” from now on. Just “the rival cop” was way more boring than he deserved and I think “the horny-for-Jessica rival cop” suits him. Even though I’m not going to be fact-checking my memory of ice fighting rubber in that movie.

Oh, I guess I could have also called him “the bicycle cop”. It was only like, his silhouette that had been introduced back when bicycle cops were revealed to be the strongest type of cop, but once it was revealed that he was one of the strongest cops AND he had anti-drowning powers, it would have been an easy connection to make. Well, I guess it’s not too late for me to make a word substitution so that his moniker has “bicycle” in it. Alright then. Aokiji, I hereby christen you...

“The horny-for-Jessica rival bicycle”. Bear that name proudly.

Usopp says “I’m totally outclassed and useless” so Zoro says “Wrong as usual, idiot. Goodnight.” What the hell??? People besides me don’t like Zoro? People besides me are wrong!!! Not only is he a dumbass with no redeeming qualities (+50 Likability Points), he’s ALSO a tsundere sweetheart (+50 Likability Points)???

By the way, Likability Points are different from Sanji Points and Rena Points. They’re more general and all-purpose.

Chapter 322 - Puffing Tom

Everyone is having a nice time, but then they get distracted and decide to follow a frog around instead.

Train

There’s a scary Heart Woman, her scary granddaughter, and HER Doraemon knockoff. Lufpy decides this is the Carpenter Recruitment Arc.

Chapter 323 - The City of Water, Water Seven

Sanji says the carpenter needs to be a woman. Lufpy says the carpenter needs to be a man. Zoro says “screw you guys, the carpenter just needs to be a carpenter”. Based Zoro? Zoro secretly the best character?

Wait, no...! I’m so sorry!!! I didn’t mean it, Nami... :(

SPEAKING OF NAMI

REMEMBER??? Nami has shown off her hidden Catholic side multiple times over the course of the manga so far. That means she Really Really Is Catholic!

Nami looks at a picture of a BOOB!!! XD

Except when the crew reaches the city, what looked like a nipple is actually a dispenser of WATER, not milk!!! What a ripoff! That’s the inferior way of preparing cocoa!

Four people in this town seem to be at least a little important: A viking-adjacent orc-adjacent ultimately-just-a-normie, some guy who has goggles for no reason, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester slightly to the left, and a feminist who’s even better than a German person.

Just kidding, the normie was already brutally murdered by the goggles guy and his friends.

It would be a great plot twist if instead of the goggles guy joining Lufpy’s crew, someone else did. Although I guess maybe Tony Tony Chopper already was that plot twist. Speaking of Tony Tony Chopper... REMEMBER??? Tony Tony Chopper is a yandere!

...That one is admittedly really young, so you probably didn’t forget about it. But since it’s so young, I’m willing to take any excuse I can get to make it relevant. Tony Tony Chopper being a yandere needs to bite and scrape and claw to earn its place amongst the giants such as Lufpy being rice and Zoro having a collection of jokes. Except that abstract fact isn’t sentient, so I have to do all the biting and scraping and clawing for it. I’m going to force you all to acknowledge the fact that Tony Tony Chopper is a yandere even if it kills me!

Chapter 324 - Adventures in the City of Water

Reaction image? Maybe? Eh... maybe not...

It turns out the only reason they’re called bulls is because these stuck-up pricks think they’re too sophisticated to call them “cars”.

A car licks Lufpy’s teeth. Some guy decides that means Lufpy has to drive that car.

So much for Usopp overcoming his racism. I thought better of you, Usopp.

Well, at least he won’t become a stagnant character who’s already gone through his whole arc during the next there-are-as-many-chapters-that-do-exist-as-there-are-chapters-that-don’t-exist.

(Um... just between you and me, one of the running gags I was doing was increasing the amount of chapters I claimed One Piece had each time I brought it up, but it’s kind of hard to escalate past “infinity squared” which is what I said last time. I think I just played my trump card. So... I have no idea how I’m going to keep the joke going, given that there are six more chapters for me to make posts about, and those posts will likely need to contain the joke.)

OMG! It’s the even-jankier-than-the-rest-of-the-game cannibals from Fallout: New Vegas! Oh, spoilers, I guess.

Lufpy eats soggy chicken. Or is it... soggy MAN??? Or is it... soggy ARTIFICIAL MAN COOKED USING THE SECRET RECIPE??? Sorry, spoilers.

Oh, I remember this Ace Attorney case! It’s the one where at the halfway point, Edgeworth figured out who the murderer was, and then the murderer said “Can you prove it doesn’t make sense?” and grew huge muscles for the remaining 50% of the case.

There are four MORE characters now, since I guess the previous four characters getting rapidfire introductions weren’t enough. One of these four is missing though, so it’s more like there’s three of them. I’ve already forgotten all three of their names and faces.

Zoro is lonely, so some guy with a sword is keeping him company. They can bond over both having swords!

Chapter 325 - The Franky Family

Well, the guy was just a variety of circus freaks, so Zoro kill them all.

Okayyyyyyy, fiiiiiiiiiine, I guess Tony Tony Chopper’s Literal Newborn gimmick is starting to pay dividends. I guess he’s not THAT inferior of a character. Fiiiiiiiiiine. Fiiiiiiiiiine.

HUH??? CP9??? CHILD PORN 9??? IS THIS MASKED PERSON PRODUCING CHILD PORN STARRING A 9-YEAR-OLD??? THAT’S, UH, BAD

Ultimate Power is so close... the Prophesied Trinity God is nearly at hand... if Sanji can manage to steal Usopp, Lufpy and Nami’s money, mankind’s first Immortal Being will be born. REMEMBER??? I said I hoped Sanji would achieve immortality!

Nami and Usopp decide to team up to kill Lufpy. Aww... it’s so nice to see my favorite duo working together towards a common goal. <3

Next, the three of them meet a baseball cap enthusiast named Usopp With The Personality Sanded Off.

Um... pretend I made one of my trademarked Jokes About How The Speech Bubble Is Weird here.

Chapter 326 - Mr. Iceberg

Sanji Chapter

Zoro Chapter

Lorenz Hellman Gloucester Slightly to the Left and the Feminist Who’s Even Better Than a German Person Chapter

GRANNYSPLOSION! Chapter

...

Ah... oh no... as my ego inflates, my reference humor will get gradually less and less pop-culture-related and more and more my-own-writing-which-has-zero-fans-related... I’ll stop being #relatable and die of pneumonia...

The circus freaks Zoro killed decide to steal all Usopp, Lufpy and Nami’s money before Sanji gets a chance to. No... Sanji’s immortality... it was right within my grasp, and yet...

Anyway, the character who was missing earlier was in fact the goggles guy. So this arc only has 7 characters, not 8. Not including the other characters besides those 7 characters.

The goggles guy decides to kill all the circus freaks Zoro killed. Then he does it.

Chapter 327 - Shipbuilding Island, Repair Dock No. 1 

WHAT?! I’m supposed to remember 7 characters AND even more characters AND they ALL have PETS?! Sorry, but I used up all the space in my brain reserved for fictional characters while reading the first 300 chapters, and I’m now done remembering them.

Um...

The circus freaks who get killed are actually nega-carpenters, with a leader named Nega-Unfranky, or Franky for short, or Ky for even shorter.

Hm... yep... this sure is a Land Of Lots Of Carpenters Who Are All Freaks just like how Sanji came from a Land Of Lots Of Chefs Who Are All Freaks and Tony Tony Chopper came from a Land Of Lots Of Doctors Who Are All Freaks But Actually Only Two Of Them Are Freaks And One Of The Freaks Is Dead And The Arc’s A Little Lame. Not much else to say about it.

Well, as long as he doesn’t sexualize any underage girls, he’s a better person than Person Who Is Friends With Noland Kong. ...Oh, sorry, slip of the tongue. I meant to say “the one from Ace Attorney: Justice for All”.

Wow, now I really hope this goggles guy doesn’t join the crew. He’s just the other side of the coin that is Sanji... he’s the Tails to Sanji’s Heads. And everyone knows Heads is better than Tails. Uh, no offense meant towards any of Sonic’s friends.

Phew, Lufpy is trying to recruit Lorenz Hellman Gloucester Slightly to the Left instead of the goggles guy. ...Wait, I don’t want Lorenz Hellman Gloucester Slightly to the Left on the crew either...

Usopp With The Personality Sanded Off tells Lufpy that it’s time to get rid of the Merry Go. Speaking of sanding things off, REMEMBER??? I would never sand off the glasses idiot’s skin, FBI!

Speaking of the glasses idiot, REMEMBER??? A reverse werebuffoon is a person who turns into a buffoon when the moon isn’t full!

Oh. That’s it. That was the last of the things I’d jotted down from my One Piece posts which weren’t things I already did remember.

No. No, it wasn’t worth it.

[regenderate-fic]

As the Days Pass By

Fandom: Doctor Who Ships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor, Jackie Tyler Rating: General Series: I Bet You Though There’s an End Word Count: 2,139 Other Tags: Grief/Mourning, Angst, Bad Wolf as Disability

Read on AO3

Summary: After Rose leaves, John is left to grieve.

Companion piece to And Still I Will Live Here. Probably makes more sense if you read that first.

NOTES: if you haven't read and still i will live here the tl;dr is rose gets sick when she's in the wrong universe so they had to send her back even though she and tentoo were sickeningly in love. poor tentoo.

On paper, she was dead.

Rose Tyler-Noble 1985-2012. 

Dead in two universes, legally. John laughed about that sometimes, although he wasn’t so sure why it was funny. Better than crying, really. He seemed to be doing a lot of crying, these days.

Jackie and Pete had taken him under their wing. He’d all but moved in with them— the flat he’d shared with Rose was still his, technically, but he spent most of his nights in a spare room at the Tyler mansion, feeling the heavy weight of Rose’s absence next to him. The last time he’d stayed here had been when Gabe was born— he’d spent every night curled around Rose, afraid to sleep in case she needed him, and every day going between Jackie’s room and the kitchen, the laundry room, the supermarket. 

He didn’t know who he was, without Rose.

He was finding out now.

So far, life without Rose seemed to consist of grief. He still wore his wedding ring everywhere— he liked to think of her wearing hers, too, the matching silver connecting them across universes. He took a few weeks off work, and when he went back, everyone treated him like he was made of glass. They knew what had happened to Rose, after all; they’d helped a frazzled John and a brain-fogged Rose put together the new dimension cannon, helped launch Rose out of their lives forever. And now they talked to John in quiet murmurs, picked up extra work to ease his load, brought him food so he wouldn’t forget to eat lunch. He spent most of his time sitting in his office, staring blankly at whatever task he was meant to be working on: most of them, he could’ve finished in seconds, but that was in a universe that had Rose in it. Now, in the universe without her, he wasn’t entirely sure it was worth the effort. He felt automated, his body going through the motions of every day entirely absent from his mind. 

Maybe she’d taken that with her, when she’d left.

He kept seeing her on the beach, the moment after she’d kissed him for the last time. She’d stepped away, sobbing, her eyes closed. He’d wanted to close his too, to avoid acknowledgment of this moment, but he couldn’t bear to look at her for even a second less than was possible. He needed to see her, take her in, take her all in, before she was gone to him forever.

He’d fallen, the moment she disappeared. Fallen on the beach, dissolving in sobs. He’d felt Jackie’s hand on his shoulder, and then she was holding him, crying just as hard as he was. 

He still felt like he’d never gotten up. His arms and legs were heavy, and he wondered whether this was how Rose had felt— she’d always said it felt like her limbs didn’t want to be bothered. He wondered whether she was feeling any better, now she was in the other universe. He wondered whether she’d found Jack, or the Doctor, or someone else, anyone else, who could help her as she recovered.

He hoped she’d found someone. He hoped she’d found the Doctor. He knew, better than anyone, how much the Doctor would have sacrificed to see Rose Tyler again. 

John would’ve sacrificed anything.

But there was nothing to sacrifice. Nothing he could do, except eat dinner with the Tylers every evening, watching as Gabe flung his mashed potatoes everywhere, or trying to force a laugh when Tony told him a joke from one of his playmates. Nothing he could do, except go to work every day, trying to force himself to care about what they were doing. Nothing he could do, except avoid their old flat, avoid the parts of London they used to haunt, back when Rose was still well enough to haunt, avoid questions about his wedding ring and what had happened to his wife, anyway, she always seemed so nice? Jackie would give him worried looks, and then he would worry about her , because why was she worrying about him when she’d lost her daughter?

Tony had started calling him Uncle John. It was as good a name as anything— he was always around, after all, and he did love spending time with Tony. He loved seeing the world through a little kid’s eyes, all the different revelations he’d long since taken for granted. It was through Tony’s eyes, really, that he could start to see beauty in the world, even when Rose wasn’t in it. 

It was Tony, too, who talked to him the most about Rose. Jackie wasn’t ready yet; she avoided the subject, even though it was always there, hanging in her sad eyes. But Tony had promised Rose he’d remember her, and he seemed to be taking that responsibility very seriously. He had a little book of pictures, and sometimes he’d come to John and ask questions like, “Was Rose’s favorite color purple, or orange?” (It was neither, not quite: she’d liked the gentle peach you’d see if you watched the sun set.) John worried about Tony, sometimes; he was very young to lose someone who’d been so present in his life. But he seemed all right, otherwise. John helped him build improbably high towers with his blocks, made him a model train track that went up and down a functional volcano, showed him how to fold a paper airplane. 

He’d thought, when Rose left, that he would’ve lost the only person he loved, the only person who’d ever mattered to him. He was realizing that wasn’t true: he was sure he’d never feel the way he felt about Rose about anyone else, but he’d forgotten how Rose’s family had always taken him in, invited him to Christmas dinner, asked him to stick around. He’d forgotten how he’d taken care of Jackie, too, after she had her baby, and how Jackie had taken care of him when he was first dealing with the expectation of Rose’s loss. Rose’s absence hurt , of course; he kept turning to say something to her, or reaching for her hand, before realizing she wasn’t there. But it would have been worse, much much worse, if he hadn’t had the Tylers. 

And he had Rose’s letters. The first one was for his birthday— they called it his birthday. Really, he’d picked it nearly at random, on the basis that it seemed like a nice enough day to be born. Rose had laughed at him for it. But on December 13, he opened the box she’d left with him and picked up the first letter.

To John, on your birthday.

She’d drawn a little heart next to it. He almost cried, seeing it. It was so her , to leave a cutesy doodle on a letter she knew would be read after she was gone. He managed to open it, even with his shaking hands, and pulled out the letter. His vision was blurred by tears, and as he blinked, they fell in huge splotches on the paper. He held it up, away from his face, to read.

Dear John,

Oh, God, I don’t know what to say. Sorry. This is the first one I’ve written. Hopefully I’ll hit my stride by the next few, and the rest’ll be a bit more coherent.

He laughed at that, tears still streaming down his face.

I suppose I should start with a happy birthday. Happy birthday! How old are you now, three? Four? They grow up so fast!

He closed his eyes. He couldn’t do this. Rose’s words, on the page— they sounded just like her. It was more than he could bear. 

But— it was her words. He had to keep going.

I hope you’re doing all right without me. Are you and Mum taking care of each other? I’m worried about you two. How’s the family? Is Gabe talking yet?

I don’t know why I’m asking questions. I know you can’t answer.

He wiped at his eyes.

Remember your first “birthday” here? When we went and got ice cream, and the top of your cone fell off, and I had to go ask the shop for another one? And then we sat on that bench in the park… it was a nice day. I’d hoped we’d have more like it. Get yourself an ice cream on me, all right?

He frowned. On her? She wasn’t there. He peered into the envelope and saw another bit of paper; when he plucked it out, he saw it was a five pound note. He managed a smile. Of course. Even when her mind had been a total haze, she’d been the most thoughtful person he knew. 

I still love you. I don’t care where I am or who I’m with. I’ll still love you. You know that, of course. I would’ve grown old with you in a heartbeat, if I could’ve. 

Take care of yourself. Find a way to live a good life, all right? Don’t stay all hung up on me. Martha told me what you were like last time. 

When had she talked to Martha? Probably when they were all in the TARDIS, after defeating the Daleks. How had John not noticed? Sure, he’d been preoccupied, but— this was Rose . He’d always watched her, even if all she was doing was sitting in the TARDIS’s jump seat, swinging her legs back and forth. 

He shook his head. It didn’t matter. He just wished he could ask her about it. He went back to the letter, gulping back his sobs.

I love you.

I miss you.

Love,

Rose

He tucked the letter back into the envelope, back into the box, tears streaming down his face. There were so many more letters in there— some were for Tony and Gabe, when they were old enough, but most of them were for John. He shuffled through them. It was all he had left of her— her soul, caught in the paper and ink. There was so much of it, and yet still not enough. 

He had his birthday dinner with the Tylers. Jackie had asked what he wanted, and he’d panicked and said shepherd’s pie, which he didn’t even like all that much. Rose had liked it, and he’d been thinking of her, and now he was sitting at a table with the Tyler family, silently picking at a shepherd’s pie. 

“You all right, love?” Jackie asked, partway through.

John shrugged. 

Jackie, mercifully, didn’t push it. But he saw her worried eyes on him for the rest of the meal. 

Rose had been gone for three months. 

Slowly, surely, the months passed. John’s grief settled from a keening wail to a dull grind, constantly wearing away at him. He read Rose’s letters for Christmas, and New Year— he was saving the ones for when he was having a bad day or really missing her. He was always having a bad day; he was always really missing her. It didn’t feel significant anymore. She’d written one for Valentine’s Day, though, and he read that, and there was one for six months after she’d gone, which fell somewhere in March. He marked time with the letters, watching the pile get smaller. He wished he could write her back. 

Slowly, his work began to have meaning again. Slowly, he went back out into the world. He joined a local robotics club after Jackie caught him tinkering with the toaster— she practically forced him into it. It was strange, having people who knew him but not Rose, who didn’t know what had happened to Rose, who knew him only as a widower and even then only if they thought to ask. But it was good for him, doing something with his hands, connecting with other people. 

Everything still hurt. 

Jackie tried a grief support group. John considered it, but then Jackie came back and said it had been rubbish; she couldn’t manage to explain what had happened without sounding absolutely mad.

“I couldn’t bear to lie,” she said.

John felt similarly. 

He kept going.

Rose had been gone for a year. He’d opened the letter for her birthday, their first anniversary, their first year apart. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel her next to him, hear her laughter, smell her shampoo. He hoped she was happy now. He hoped she had found the Doctor, as much as she had insisted she wasn’t ready. He had hated the grief, but at least he hadn’t had to do it alone; he couldn’t bear to think of Rose, on her own, still sick, weighed down by everything she had lost. 

He would find a way to live a good life. He was determined to do that, at least. 

But some part of him would always be thinking of her. 

[cosmicoatlatte]

home

pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

plot: at a get together after the mission the dagger squad finds out some things about Rooster, causing Maverick to step up and try and help…

warnings: drinking, references to parental death and past trauma

notes: for K ♡︎, thank you for letting me bother you with this for weeks

words: 7k

It was a bittersweet evening at The Hard Deck but they tried to not let it show. After the successful mission it was time to dismantle their little ragtag group of pilots and for everybody to head back to their former assignments. Sadly Fritz had to fly out in the early afternoon but the rest of the pilots and backseaters had descended upon the bar and shuffled some tables around with Penny’s permission to make a large circle where everybody found a place for at least the next few hours.

It felt good to be back on solid ground. While being in the air was one of the best feelings in Rooster’s mind he was glad to be off the ship again. With the old jukebox playing music and the patrons of the bar talking and laughing together it was a little easier to forget about the events that happened just a few days prior.

“You guys are lucky,” Harvard pointed out after everybody except Bob was a few drinks in, “at least you guys get a few weeks leave.” The other aviators knew it wasn’t coming from a place of malice, had they been in the place of the aviators that didn’t fly the mission they’d probably think exactly the same way. Everybody craved the comfort of home while deployed.

“Yeah,” Omaha added, “Leave would be nice. I wish I could head home, see family. My sister had a baby months ago, never even met the kid and he’s already crawling.”

“Maybe Mav can put in a nice word with the commander. Make it so everybody can go home faster.” Rooster said after taking a drink of his beer, “Although with him there’s always a chance we’d end up shipped out overseas for a few months.”

A few nods and words of agreement greeted Maverick as he made his way back to the group after not so sneakily disappearing to the back of the bar with Penny earlier. At least he was smart enough to get a new beer so he could play it off as just getting another drink, even if none of the other aviators bought it. “What are we talking about?”

“Leave.”

The older man just took his place among his now former students, looking around. “That’s nice. What are everybody’s plans?”

Most of the others just answered with the basics. Going to see family, spending some time with their loved ones. Hangman wanted to use his time for a vacation and Rooster didn’t doubt that in a week there’d be pictures of Hangman’s abs at a beautiful tropical beach all over social media. At least that gave him time to prepare a witty joke he could send in the groupchat to roast the blond.

Realizing he was the only one of the lucky ones that hadn’t shared his plans, Rooster took another drink of his beer, finishing the bottle before putting it down on the table in front of him. “Don’t know yet. Probably going to spend some time catching up with Mav and after that head home to see the missus.”

Several heads whipped around to look at him with a speed that put fighter jets to shame. Rooster was sure he saw poor Bob get whipped in the face by Phoenix’ ponytail hard enough for his glasses to become crooked on his face.

“The what now?!” Multiple voices said loud enough to draw the attention of other patrons but the group skillfully avoided paying attention to them.

Hangman let out a fake cough to hide his reaction but he couldn’t hide the curiosity in his voice as he spoke. “Didn’t know you were married, Rooster.”

“Congrats.” Mavericks' voice tore him out of his thoughts about how Hangman had no reason to know his relationship status. His godfather looked at him with a certain sadness in his eyes that made Rooster mad for a split second before he reminded himself that they were working on mending their relationship and a missed wedding might have been another thing to add to the list of life events they didn’t share like they should have.

“I’m not married.” He paused, trying to find the right words to describe what the two of you were. “It’s an… inside joke with an old friend.”

“Oh that’s-”

“I thought about asking her once but… yeah no I’m not married.” He rambled on, unable to stop himself, almost forgetting about his fellow pilots as he looked at Maverick and the way his eyebrows knit up in confusion.

The rest of the group just looked at him before Halo slapped her knees before standing up, signaling she was ready to leave.

“And that’s our cue. Come on boys, let’s give the Daggers some privacy. You coming with, Coyote?”

“Nah, I’m Hangman’s ride. Can’t leave him with the bunch. He’d just say something to piss them off and they’d leave him here.”

It wasn’t a tearful goodbye but hugs and handshakes were exchanged alongside promises to stay in touch. But almost as soon as Halo led Omaha, Yale, and Harvard away from the table all heads turned to Rooster again. Great.

“Alright, spill!” Phoenix ordered. Bob behind her enthusiastically nodded his head to back his pilot up.

“Guys, maybe that’s not-”

“Ignore Maverick. Spill Rooster!” Hangman interrupted.

Sighing he looked at his empty beer on the table in front of him and wished he had a full one in its place. Or maybe a tall soft drink glass full of whiskey neat.

“Here.” Mav pushed over the beer he picked up earlier, opened but still full.

“There’s not much to talk about.” He tried to defend himself. “She’s a friend. A good friend.”

That wasn’t enough to satisfy the lot in front of him though. Phoenix was motioning for him to continue and part of him wished it was just her he was talking too. She had always been a good friend. A good person to talk to when he had the need to talk. Even if they rarely had the chance to just sit down and chat due to the nature of their work.

“Lives in the old house.” He continued in a low voice, hearing his godfather inhale sharply next to him.

“I wasn’t ready to let it go but I- I couldn’t stay there. Not alone. Not after mom died. So when I left and she needed a place to stay I told her she could have it. Tried to pay me rent for years but I don’t take it. If she didn’t stay there it would be empty anyways so why waste a perfectly good house, you know. I go back every few months and she keeps my shit around.”

He just focused on the bottle in front of him, thumbing away at the label as the stares of his friends bore holes into him.  

“That’s….nice.” The hesitant tone alone voided the words, he didn’t need to see the unsure face on top of it. He didn’t even want to imagine what the group was thinking of him at that moment. Revealing his tragic backstory in the middle of a bar.

“It’s not really home but it’s… it’s a homebase. Someplace to retreat to in case I’m back stateside.”

“And how long has this been going on?” Bob asked from behind Phoenix, confused, and Rooster was suddenly reminded of the years he had on them. Years because Mav held him back.

Years because he tried to protect you - a soft voice that sounded too much like his mother reminded him in the back of his head.

“Fifteen years? Give or take.” He mumbled.

“And how long have you been fucking her?” Three arms reached across the table to swat at Hangman for his question, Phoenix getting him in the arm hard enough for him to wince loudy.

“Fifteen years. Give or take.”

The only thing preventing an awkward moment of silence falling over the group was the fact that Fanboy choked on his beer hard enough that for the next few moments all the attention went to him, their group making sure that the WSO didn’t die. It didn’t prevent an awkward pause that followed after though. It was heavy, only interrupted by muffled coughing.

“Wasn’t expecting that to be completely honest.” Hangman said after everybody had mostly calmed down. When Rooster looked over to him he saw that the usual cocky smirk was nowhere to be found on Hangman’s face and for the first time in his life he wished the other man would make fun of him. Look at him with something more than blank surprise or maybe thinly veiled pity.

“Fifteen years is a pretty long relationship to have, Rooster. Even if you’re not married, that's still impressive.” Coyote tried to be uplifting, smiling at him across the table.

“We’re not dating either. Told you she’s just a friend.”

“But you’re fucking?” Hangman asked.

“Whenever I go back. Unless she’s in a relationship at the time which hasn’t really happened yet because she doesn’t really date but most of the time, yeah.”

Across the table Payback raised his beer to him before taking a sip. “I mean… friends with benefits isn’t bad. Me and my wife started out as fuckbuddies before I grew the balls to ask her out for real.”

A few of the guys around the table nodded in agreement while Phoenix rolled her eyes hard enough that Rooster was worried they’d get stuck, but nobody added on to what Payback said.

Another few moments of silence followed before Bob spoke up, all eyes on the quiet WSO. “So let me get this straight. You and this woman have been on again off again fuckbuddies for the past fifteen years. She lives in your house. You nearly asked her to marry you….. and you still insist that she is just a friend?”

It came out rather harsh and nobody really knew how to react, least of all Rooster. Nodding, he took another drink of his beer, breaking eye contact with Bob.

Pushing his chair back from the table Bob moved to get up from their table. “Jesus fuck I need a drink.”

“Bob, you don’t drink.” Phoenix pushed her chair back too, quick to back up her backseater.

“I’m starting now.”  

Six pairs of eyes watched as the two walked over to the bar but the men soon found themselves returning their attention back to the conversation.

“That’s a long time to pine over somebody, Rooster.” Fanboy chimed in, the pilots around the table nodding in agreement.

Before he could defend himself that he wasn’t pining, Hangman decided to speak up again.

“Jesus dude I know you like to wait things out but that’s long even for you.” Putting his arm around his shoulder he continued, “Gonna make your move when you get back? You’re a hero now Rooster, that gets the girls hot. No way she’ll say no.”

Without looking at the other man Rooster just shook off his arm, not taking his eyes off the bottle in front of him. Half the label was missing at this point but scratching at it kept his hands busy at least. “She’s just a friend, Bagman. Just a friend.”

Before any of the others could comment on it, Bob and Phoenix made their way back over to the group, letting themselves fall into the seats they had abandoned before. Their little comeback thankfully drew the attention to them and off Rooster, something he really appreciated. Judging by the way Bob was looking, his first drink didn’t go over all that smoothly.

“How’d he do Phoenix?” Mav teased.

“Went straight for the tequila. I tried to tell him he should start out with a beer but noooo.” She drew out the vowel, interrupted herself with a short giggle, before continuing, “Doubleshot of the cheapest tequila Penny had, didn’t even pull a face.” Phoenix bragged while giving Bob an encouraging pat on the back as he kept quiet. She turned to Hangman, sizing him up before adding. “You can ask Penny if you don’t believe me, Bagman.”

“Nah screw that.” Hangman replied, jumping up in his seat and leaning across the table to get closer to Bob, and Rooster was glad that they seemed to have found a new topic to latch onto. “First time and he went straight for the kill. Atta boy Bobby. Mister B.O.B.”  

Most people around the table joined in with Hangman who continued to go on and on like usual while Rooster just went back to focusing on the bottle in front of him. He continued to thumb at the label, using the nail to push the paper back little by little. Almost everybody had stopped paying attention to him but he could feel Maverick’s gaze burn into the side of his head. He just hoped the older man would let it go.

Maverick did not let it go.

Two days after the night at The Hard Deck he was pounding on the door of Rooster’s room until he had no other choice but to roll out of bed. Stumbling his way to the door with half closed eyes he cursed as he walked straight into a table, a hand coming up to rub over his thigh while the other one pulled open his front door.

“What?” The words came out harder than he intended but the other man didn’t react, instead pushing past him into the room.

“Great, you’re up. Come on get dressed, we need to leave soon.”

“It’s like…” He picked up his phone from the nightstand, dropping it onto the bed after he saw the time. “6 in the goddamn morning. Why are you waking me up at 6am on my day off, Mav?”

“I want to show you something but we need to hit the road soon unless you want it to become an overnight trip. So go and get ready.” Maverick picked up a shirt he had thrown over a chair a day or two ago and threw it at Rooster, catching him off guard enough for it to hit him square in the face.

Knowing full well he couldn’t escape this trip Rooster just sighed and gathered his things so he could get ready. Hurrying through the process of getting ready until he was standing back in his room, silently looking at Mav while the older man looked at the pictures Rooster had taped up next to his bed.

Most of his memories were kept in his phone nowadays but he still liked to keep a few  physical pictures with him on deployment. An old strip from a photobooth the two of you had squeezed yourself into, you perched on his lap with his arms wrapped around your middle while you made faces into the camera right next to the picture of his parents with their arms around each other. Maverick was focused on the third picture that was taped up though, their last family picture from before the accident. It had been hard to bend the picture in a way that properly hid Mav since they were all crowded together, Mom and Dad and Mav with little Rooster in the middle. He didn’t regret not tearing it apart in a fit of anger though. Instead he had taken it down after the mission, carefully straightened out the picture until Maverick was no longer hidden behind the back of the picture and next to them again, before putting it back up with their family reunited.

Rooster watched as he reached out and trailed a finger across the crease. It felt like he was interrupting a moment so he just stood still for a few more seconds, giving Maverick a little bit more time. When the other man turned around he didn’t seem surprised to see Rooster standing in the middle of his room though, a small smile growing on his face.

“Ready to go, kid?”

“Yeah.” He replied, waiting for Mav to bring up the pictures or where they were going but nothing came in response.

“Great.” Maverick stepped past him, hand coming up to give his shoulder a firm pat. “We’re taking your Bronco.”

It wasn’t until they were out of San Diego and making their way down a highway out east that Maverick opened up a little. He had been designated to the passenger side, left to peruse through the handful of cassette tapes in the glove box and play navigator while Rooster drove.

“Good selection.”

Out of the corner of his eyes Rooster could see the older man’s hands stopping once he came across a familiar mixtape, his own illegible handwriting staring back at him. He had played the tape over the years, knew the songs by heart even. But he still wasn’t able to read the writing. Your daddy had the nicest handwriting - his mother used to tell him - always filling out paperwork for Maverick. It wasn’t until he was older that he understood why his mother continued to do the same after his father’s death. A small act of kindness towards the poor soul that had to deal with Maverick Mitchell, saving at least a little bit of their sanity by shielding them from his terrible chicken scratch. Mav could write legibly when he cared, Rooster had a shoebox full of cards and letters at the old house that proved this, but he never really cared for paperwork.

Still focusing most of his attention on the road in front of them, Rooster saw the older man opening the case and carefully putting it into the correct slot on the old car. It took a moment for it to start but he smiled as the intro to Danger Zone began playing. Mav was nodding his head along the rhythm and Rooster could feel himself being overcome by some kind of nostalgic sorrow.

He was young when his father died. Too young. That wasn’t something he ever tried or was able to hide. But he tried his hardest to shield the ones around him from the full truth and maybe lie to himself a little. Nick Bradshaw had been a good man and he deserved to be remembered as such by his loved ones. Which just caused his limited memories of his dad to be all the more painful. No matter how hard Rooster tried to find new memories hidden away in a far corner of his brain he was stuck with a handful of amazing but painful ones.

It must have been mere days before the accident. His mom was somewhere, he didn’t quite know where, but his dad and his uncle Mav were with him. He remembered that the radio was blasting Danger Zone and that the adults had been singing along. They had all jumped across the room wildly and his uncle had picked him up only to collapse onto a couch or bench or something similar towards the end of the song.

After their falling out it had taken him years until he could listen to the song again without getting overwhelmed by emotions. But sitting here now, side by side with the man he tried to hate for years, all that heaviness he’d been carrying around with himself seemed to lift. It would never be like that one carefree summer afternoon in San Diego again but Rooster was certain that they could work towards mending their relationship again and he looked forward to it.

They had been driving for hours and Rooster was starting to get tired of the scenery. While he appreciated the desert as a beautiful place in theory after driving through it for a while it started to become too monotonous for him. They had stopped at a diner in a small town around eleven and eaten what would probably be considered brunch although there was a distinct lack of mimosas. He had filled the tank while Mav picked up some things from a nearby store and they were on the road again before noon.

“There’s a dirt road up ahead, on the left side. No street sign but you’ll see it.”

It was easy to follow his directions, pulling the Bronco into the street and making their way down the road. He could see a building up ahead, far enough removed from the main road to not be visible to passing cars but now that they were on the smaller dirt road Rooster was able to see that they were heading straight towards it.

An airplane hangar. Maverick had taken him to an airplane hangar. In the middle of the damn Mojave.

He slowed down the car once they got close enough, coming to a stop near the access doors but off to the side so he wouldn’t block the runway. If it involved Mav and a hangar there would definitely be planes around and he didn’t want to be in the way.

“Remember the thing you talked about last time at The Hard Deck?” Maverick said, hopping out of the car and Rooster had to suppress a laugh at the sight before he exited the Bronco too.

He watched as Maverick walked over to the middle of the hangar and raised his voice a little so that the older man could hear him even as he walked away. “What thing? I talked about a lot of things.”

“About the old house and it being your homebase.” Maverick was fiddling around with the chain that hung in the middle of the giant doors but Rooster couldn’t see what exactly he was doing, even as he walked closer.

“Well….” The chain rattled as it fell to the ground but Mav picked it up before giving each side of the heavy doors a push. “Welcome to my homebase.” Maverick said before slipping through the gap in the door and disappearing into the darkness.

Homebase. The stupid word echoed in his mind as he hesitated to follow the older man into the hangar. He had said that, hadn’t he? Downplayed the significance of you, your home… his home. Expressing his feelings had never been his strong suit but part of him didn’t regret his selfish choice of words. He trusted the daggers with his life but he didn’t want to share your relationship with them, not when he wasn’t sure of things himself.

He couldn’t bare himself to them in such a manner. Not when he still struggled to come to terms with things himself.

Trying to shake those thoughts he followed after Mav. The inside of the hangar was significantly darker than the outside even with the slight opening in the doors letting in light and his eyes needed a moment to adjust before he could see but when they did he looked around the large space in awe.

Rooster knew that the older man had an affinity for all things speed -bikes and planes, even the occasional sports car- but looking around he was surprised by how many machines he could see. Just from a first glance he counted at least 15, half of which he somewhat remembered from his childhood, as well as an old P-51 and… random furniture placed in front of a trailer?

“What-” He started but didn’t finish his sentence. What would he even ask? What is this place? Homebase. Mav had already said that.

He looked around again, trying to find Maverick between the machines.

“Go sit down.”

He nearly jumped at the sound of Mav’s voice echoing through the hanger. He hadn’t seen or heard him coming at all.

“I’ll go get the bags from the car but you go sit. Or go look around. Make yourself at home. Just don’t touch anything.”

The way he said it sounded like an adult warning a small child. Don’t touch anything, you could get hurt. And for a second Rooster thought about all the years he had spent with Maverick and his machines. How they had fixed up old bikes and Mav had patiently explained what every tiny screw does before ruffling his hair and telling him good job buddy for handing him a wrench. How he had helped Rooster get all his licenses from bikes to cars to planes and then let him take out some of the machines for joyrides or to impress girls at his high school. How he knew what he was doing and if he wanted to he could touch because he knew not to get hurt. Because he’s not a kid anymore. Because Mav taught him how not to get hurt.

But instead he kept quiet and looked around.

Rooster spent a while looking at the P-51. That thing must have cost a fortune even if it was old and Mav did the repairs himself. It was a gorgeous plane though and he hoped that he could convince his godfather to take him up with it soon.

The row of bikes felt so familiar it hurt but he still ran his fingers over the polished metal with care. All neatly lined up along the side of the hangar.

When he was younger Mav kept a locker covered in stickers in their garage. He still had the same locker now in the hangar and the collection of stickers had only grown. He used to go into the garage to look at them all the time when he was a child. Stickers of the different squadrons in all colors of the rainbow. He had them all memorized before he had memorized all 50 states. This one is where Ice flies -Maverick would point out- and this one is the squad that has to deal with Wolfman and Hollywood. They had gone through all the different symbols and pointed out when one of Mav’s friends flew with them.

As a kid he often wondered which squadron he would be assigned to, what insignia he would rep. He slowly raised a hand and ran his fingers over the Golden Warriors sticker at the side of the locker when something past the locker caught his eye.

Pictures upon pictures taped to the wall, familiar faces staring back at him. He could see pictures of Maverick and his parents as he stepped closer. Iceman. Their class at top gun.

Himself.

One of the pictures he knew. It was taken the day his high school baseball team had won a state championship and he remembered feeling like he was on top of the world. His mom had already been sick at that point but her prognosis had been good. Mav had been home from deployment and was able to bring his mom and together they had cheered loud enough that they could be heard across the entire pitch. Other teens would have felt embarrassed but Bradley had felt nothing but love. They had taken him out to eat afterwards and he had talked their ears off while stuffing his face with fries. His mother hadn’t even scolded him for talking with his mouth full. He had asked about the naval academy and if they had a baseball team and if Mav thought he should join. They’d all been so happy.

Not even a year later his mom was dead and Mav had pulled his papers and he had found himself on the other side of the continent completely alone.

Mav had another picture of him as well although he didn’t know where he got it. It was a newer one of him in his uniform, taken before the start of his last deployment. Ice, he answered his own unasked question. There was only one person that held enough rank and love for Maverick to get a hold of his picture.

He should have reached out sooner. If not to Mav then at least Iceman. Even in his stubbornness he had to admit that the late admiral had never treated him with anything but kindness and now it was too late to apologize.

“There you are.” Mav’s voice came from behind him and Rooster was proud that he didn’t flinch at the sudden noise. He had completely forgotten that he wasn’t alone in the hangar.

Instead of speaking immediately he took a deep breath and swallowed down his feelings. One step at a time. First he’d mend things with Mav for the future, then he’d ask for forgiveness for the past.

“Quite the collection you got here.” He said instead.

“Yeah?” He could see how the older man’s eyes lighted up at the mention of his machines. “I got more up here and a few more back there.” He turned around to point them out to Rooster, taking a few steps away from the side of the hangar.

“I’ve put the bikes on the backburner for a little bit to focus on the plane but as soon as I get it back up and running I have a few that need repairs. Maybe you could come and help me out a little. Like old times.” Mav smiled.

“That would be nice.”

He watched as Maverick walked over to the sitting area and followed. He disappeared into the trailer for a moment only to come out holding two bottles in his hands and gesturing for Rooster to sit. It was almost as if he had set up a little living room in the middle of the hangar. With an armchair and a couch, a small coffee table all on a big rug in front of the trailer. Wait…

“Mav do you fucking live here?”

Mav just gestured to the couch. “Sit down Bradley.”

It felt weird to be called Bradley again. For years he had only gone by Rooster or Bradshaw, building it up almost like a second identity or an armor. To him it felt like he had left Bradley behind years ago when he left home. Still, he sat down.

He looked at Mav.

Mav looked at him.

“Yes Bradley. I’ve been living in this hangar for the past few years while stationed at a nearby air base.” He finally said.

“In that trailer?”

Mav didn’t say anything, just nodded while looking at him.

He shifted a little where he sat on the couch, trying to avoid eye contact. “So you’re just all alone out here in the desert?”

“You know I’m used to being on my own, Bradley. No wife, no kids.”

Nobody to mourn you when you burn in.

He should have known that he would end up eating his words. No matter how much anger and distress he was feeling when he spoke them, no words were said without consequences and he was about to be faced with his.

He shifted in his seat again, still not meeting the older man’s eyes. “Mav, listen…”

“No. No.” Mav took a deep breath and let in out loud enough for him to hear it through the distance between them. “You were right.”

Another silence fell over them, this one weighing heavier on him than the ones before.

“I fear we’re a lot more similar than either of us would like to admit.”

It sounded less than a statement and more like a confession or maybe even a little bit of an apology. Like it pained Maverick to admit it and he had to force himself to say them. As if it had been a shortcoming on his end that had made them this way and not just the universe playing a cruel joke.

“There are… a lot of things we need to talk about and a lot of things I need to apologize for but not now. We have all the time in the world to talk things out but that’s not why I brought you here.”

“Then why did you?” His own voice sounded strange to him but he couldn’t figure out why. His thoughts were racing but at the same time his mind felt emptier than ever.

“I don’t want you to repeat the same mistakes I made.”

“Mav…”

“People like us belong in the sky and when something comes along to threaten that things turn ugly. You think there’s nothing worse than having that freedom taken away from you but there is. Because we can’t… we can’t stay up there forever, Bradley, no matter how hard we try. Once that’s taken away you have to look around and see what’s waiting for you on the ground. And when you see there’s nothing waiting for you… That’s scary, kid.”

Although he understood every word coming out of Maverick’s mouth he couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“You’re allowed to put down roots without them chaining you to the ground. You’re allowed to build a home and a family without fear holding you back.”

And all of a sudden his words began to make sense.

No wife. No kids.

Just like him.

Somebody to mourn him if he burns in.

“I don’t think…”

“Don't think. Just do.”

That damn sentence had burrowed itself into his mind. Nested itself deep enough in his subconscious that there was no way he’d ever get rid of it again and Maverick repeating them now did nothing to soften the blow he felt.

“You love her, don’t you?”

Such a simple question. Such a simple answer. Yet it felt like he had to force himself to admit it. “Yes.”

“Then tell her.”

Sometimes home wasn’t a place but a person but there had to be some incredible luck involved for the two to overlap for him.

For years he had felt a certain type of sadness while driving up to his childhood home, reminiscing about all he’s lost, but as he pulled his Bronco into the little driveway all he could think about was what he was about to gain. His stomach was twisting and turning in anticipation.

Part of him wondered if he was doing the right thing, finally confessing to you. The friendship you had built over the span of more than one decade was too important and he didn’t want to mess it up. It had been easier when he was young and stupid and fell into bed with you the first time without consideration but now your time together weighted on him. He hesitated before exiting the car, mentally going over everything he wanted to say and repeating the words Mav had told him before sending him on his way.

She wouldn’t have waited fifteen years for you to get your act together if she wasn’t head over heels in love with you too.

Oh how he hoped that Maverick was right.

Taking one last deep breath he opened the door and got out, throwing it closed behind him. You had planted some new flowers in the front yard. Last time he had been here he was greeted by soft yellow flowers but now all he could see was a beautiful red. Granted it had been a few months since he last came by but he still felt a slight sting at the change. Not that it happened -he was glad that you actually felt at home in your house and comfortable enough to change the greenery- but the fact that he missed it. As he made his way towards the front door he thought about all the other things that could have changed since he saw you last. Did you get new pillows for the couch? Hung new pictures on the walls?

He had to search through his keys for a moment before he found the house key but as soon as he did he unlocked the door and stepped inside. There were noises coming from the tv in the living room and he had no problem imagining you curled up on the couch with a soft blanket and a mug held between your soft hands with one of your shows playing.

“Honey, I’m home!” He called out, hoping that you wouldn’t be able to hear the desperation in his voice and only the excitement.

Instead of a response he could only hear a crash coming from the living room and instantly became concerned. He couldn’t take more than two steps down the hallway though before you suddenly appeared at the other end of the small space. Messy hair and comfy clothes he didn’t have time to brace himself before you all but tackled him, clinging to his body while his arms came up to hold you up and against him.

Holding you in his arms again just made him feel so much more confident in his decision. His body still felt a little sore even a week after the mission but he’d never tell you out of fear that you would lessen your crushing embrace. The last thing he wanted right now was to be separated from you in any way. He could feel saying something against his shoulder but he couldn’t hear anything, the sound muffled by his shirt.

You must have realized that he wasn’t able to understand what you were saying because you pulled away a little so he could understand you better. “You’re home.” You almost whispered, voice airy and light and a big smile on your face. “Why are you home? You’re supposed to be overseas, why are you here? You always text me before you’re home or at least give me a call. Are you okay? What happened?”

He smiled as you took his hands between your hands, trying to see if he was hurt while rambling and he just couldn’t hold himself back any longer so he leaned down and finally, finally put his lips on yours in the softest, most loving kiss he could muster with the amount of desire running through his body. If he surprised you with his kiss you didn’t show it, instead your lips began to move against his, only for him to pull away once you try to deepen the kiss.

“I love you.”

The words didn’t feel foreign in his mouth even though it was the first time he said them for a long long time. He’s been running from his true feelings for as long as he could remember but now that he managed to spill them he couldn’t stop.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Realizing that he was still holding you up, he carefully lowered you down until there was solid ground underneath your feet. You looked so sweet just standing there and part of him just wanted to swoop you right up again. Instead he brought one of his hands up to cradle your face, carefully stroking his thumb over your cheek.

“Baby...” You started but stopped when his thumb brushed over your bottom lip.

“I love you and I’m sorry.”

He could see your brows furrow in confusion so he continued.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was scared and it took me fifteen years to finally admit it but I love you. I love you and I’m not scared anymore and I’m yours… in any way that you’ll have me.” It was a blatant lie. He wasn’t just scared, he was absolutely terrified. Not just about his confession but also the future and the past and everything in between. But he needed to tell you how he felt so desperately.

Your hand touching his brought him back from his thoughts, cradling his hands while he cradled your face and a smile so wide he couldn’t focus.

When you spoke your voice was barely more than a whisper. “Oh you stupid man.”

For an awful drawn-out second he couldn’t breathe before your lips met his again and he felt whole again. Deepening the kiss all he could think about was how he was never letting go of you again.

Lieutenant Jakob Middlename Seresin enjoyed the simple things in life. A cold beer, a light breeze, and a beach full of attractive people were paradise on earth for him. After the recent mission all he wanted to do was lay back and relax before he had to head back out for deployment so when two of his old academy buddies talked about their new house in Hawai’i he invited himself to crash in their guest bedroom for two weeks and so far it had been nothing but pure bliss.

Taking a picture of his current view he sent it to his parents before pulling up the group chat Fanboy had made for everybody involved in the mission. He had missed about 50 messages but just from scrolling past them he picked up that Bob had sent a picture with his family and now everybody was roasting him for how out of character it seemed. Apparently there were flannel shirts and horses involved and Jake was just about to scroll back up to take a look himself so that he could join in the fun when a new message was sent to the group chat that caused him to drop his phone into the fine sand with a bitten off curse.

Rooster 🐓

getting hitched in vegas this wknd, be there or be square

txt Mav for details

Before he could fully process what he just read the chat was blowing up again. Text after texts came in expressing various degrees of excitement but Jake just read over Rooster’s text again before putting his phone away. With a sigh he brought his half-empty beer up to his lips and emptied the bottle before getting up to make his way back to the house.

It was only Wednesday so he still had a little time to enjoy his vacation before he had to head back to the mainland and he fully planned on enjoying it. He just needed to ask his friends where he could buy some gaudy Hawaiian shirts first. Maybe he’d even find some Vegas wedding appropriate ones.

He wouldn’t leave his wingman hanging.

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

Something Valuable

Is it weird writing fic for a show you haven't finished yet? Probably.

3.1k words, Stede/Blackbeard, no warnings, only fluff. I've only watched up to episode 6 so no major spoilers. Contains: looting and hair care.

~

“We’re only looting valuables, remember?”

Stede had nodded, the hessian sack itching between his fingers as Ed had explained, again, what he’d be doing on the recently-boarded ship.

“Right, and valuables are…?”

“Things we can sell.”

“And they're not?”

“... books and trinkets.”

“Excellent.” Ed had put his hand on Stede’s shoulder with a smug smile. His fingers had left little indentations in the silk. “I look forward to seeing what you bring me.”

Half an hour later, Stede was looking around the nearly empty captain’s chambers. Unlike himself, this man had very little in the way of decorations or displays of wealth; simple furniture, simple clothes. A simple life, all in all. Stede tried not to think too much about it as he stepped over the unfortunate man and began to rifle through the drawers of his desk.

Reams of paper, inkwells, a couple of books: nothing, truly, worth taking. He found a full bottle of brandy in one drawer, which he quickly put in the sack, but very little else. He tugged open the next drawer down, expecting even more inkwells, and froze.

Oh. Oh. He knew what these were. The glint of silver caught his eye as sun streamed in from the blood-splattered window behind him.

We’re only looting valuables.

But… they were valuable in a way, he supposed. And even if they weren’t valuable, breaking the rules was, as far as he was aware, the first law of piracy.

He would be a poor pirate not to take them, valuable or not.

He peered around. The only person watching him was the rapidly cooling corpse on the floor. He wouldn’t tell anyone. Probably.

Moving swiftly, he grabbed the things from the drawer and shoved them into the bag beside the brandy.

The deck of the captured ship was empty. It appeared that theirs was the last rowing boat to return to The Revenge, and Oluwande and Frenchie were lingering by the rail, waiting for him.

“Just us, then, chaps?” Stede said as he approached.

“Yep,” Oluwande stood straighter. “Everyone else’s gone.”

“First to arrive, last to leave,” Stede laughed. “Always the way at the best parties! Shall we?”

Oluwande was in his way.

“Well?” He said, expectantly.

Stede hesitated. “Well what?”

“Well, how was the looting?” He said, as Frenchie nodded enthusiastically beside him. “Anything valuable?”

Stede gripped the hessian sack a little tighter.

“Oh?” He said, “Oh! Oh, no, nothing, ah—” he shook his head, “Nothing really. Nothing actually worth much.”

Oluwande’s face fell. Frenchie gave him a sympathetic half-smile.

“Ah well,” he said, “not all of these ships are goldmines.” He went to reach for the sack. “There really wasn't anythi—”

“Ah, no!” Stede suddenly remembered. He swiftly reached into the sack and pulled out the bottle of brandy. “Tell a lie! I did find this! Although,” he peered at the liquid, now golden in the sunlight, “valuable, you say, now there’s a question. Given the colour and the—'' he pulled out the glass stopper and gave it a sniff, “—and the aroma, I’d hazard a guess that this is—”

Before he could finish speaking, Frenchie tugged the bottle from his hands and gave it a swig.

“Well?” Said Oluwande.

Frenchie passed him the bottle, wiping his lips on the back of his hand.

“It’s strong,” he said, grinning. “Well done, Captain!” He clapped a hand to Stede’s arm. “Knew you’d find something good.”

With both Frenchie and Olu distracted, they made their way back into the little boat and rowed across to The Revenge. On deck, the crew were milling about, sharing—or hoarding, in most cases—their prizes from the boarded French vessel. Everyone was too busy to pay any real attention to him, so Stede left Olu and Frenchie with the brandy, slid past Wee John and Black Pete having a loud argument about a set of silverware, hopped around Izzy, who shot him a glare, then collided with Jim as he attempted to sidle into his quarters.

Jim only raised their eyebrows at him as Stede quickly shut the door, feeling like a thief. He was a thief, he supposed. He would have to remember that.

He dashed to his rooms, slammed the door, and placed the sack on the table at the side of the room.

Now what. Should he hide it? Everyone else was hiding their winnings, after all, and as the Captain—

“How did it go?”

Stede spun around with an undignified yelp. Ed was leaning in the doorway, watching him. Stede hadn’t even heard him open the door.

“Ah! Ed! Not a great success, really. Couldn't find anything! No bother. Not all of these ships are goldmines, as they say—” 

He gave a high, false laugh. Ed raised his eyebrows at him.

“Shame,” he said. “Nothing at all?"

“Nope, nothing.” Stede kept his eyes trained on Ed’s face. “Nothing— ah, real shame, yes. Truly disappointing. Oh well!” He clapped his hands together. “Better luck next time, yes?”

Ed’s eyebrows raised even higher. He stepped forwards, shutting the door behind him.

“So I’ll just be taking this back, shall I?”

He stalked towards the table, reaching for the sack. Stede spoke before he could think.

“No!”

Ed paused, hand hovering above the bag. He pursed his lips.

“It is, I thought—” Stede stood a little straighter, tugging on his jacket. “Well, one has to have a— a sack of one’s own, for all this… looting and raiding and…” he watched Ed’s fingers twitch. “...and whatnot,” he finished, lamely.

“You want your own sack?” Ed said, “For looting?”

“I… yes!”

He didn’t retract his hand. “Then you ought to have one a little better than this shit—”

He grabbed the bag. Stede threw his hands forwards, but it was too late. Feeling the weight of it, Ed’s face split into a smirk.

“Nothing at all?” He repeated.

“Okay, now, before you— oh you’re already in. Look, Ed—”

Ed had started to pull things from the sack, laying them one at a time on the table. First came a gilded box, followed by a comb and a silver hairbrush. When the evidence of Stede’s crime lay displayed upon the mahogany, Ed finally turned, the sack crumpled in his hand.

“What is all this?”

“It’s a, ah— a toilet.”

Ed looked from the objects back to Stede. “No it’s not. It’s a bunch of combs and shit.”

“No, it’s— that’s what they’re called, when they’re all together. One’s toilette.” He put on an affected French accent, then winced. “As it were. Things for cleaning and tidying and such.”

“And this is all you found?”

Stede shuffled on the boards. “... I found a bottle of brandy too.”

“Oh?”

“I gave it to Oluwande and Frenchie.”

“Oh.”

Stede felt suddenly as if he were in trouble. Like he was about to get a telling off for being unsuitable, for being unfit. Ed’s face betrayed nothing more than amusement, yet the feeling prickled at him regardless.

He took a step forward, already mounting a defence. “You said that we were looting valuable items…”

“I did, yeah.”

“And…” Stede stood a little straighter, holding his shoulders back. “And I think these are valuable, actually.”

Ed smiled. “Is that so?”

“That is so,” Stede said, now finding the swing of the argument. “In fact, I would argue, that— that perhaps some of these items—” he gestured to the table, “—are more valuable than any of the loot your crew raided from that ship!”

Ed picked up the silver-backed hairbrush, examining it. “It’s not even real silver,” he said, tapping at it with his fingernail.

“Not all value is monetary, you know.”

Ed only stared at him.

“These… things, they make you look good. And if you look good, then you feel good, and you’ll do good too.” He hesitated. “Do bad, I suppose. Anyway! Look, the whole…” he waved his hands up and down his own body, attempting to demonstrate. “The beard and the hair and the leather and the smoke,” he said. “Why do you do all that?”

Ed shrugged, putting the brush down. “Makes me look scary,” he said. “You know: argh!!”

He leapt forwards in a well-practised roar. Stede did not flinch.

“Yes, yes, very good,” he said. “But don’t you think you do it because it makes you feel… confident?”

Ed considered this for a moment. “How d’you mean?”

“When you get yourself all dressed up and get your sword and go—” Stede swallowed, “—argh!! That makes you feel good about yourself, right? And if you feel good about yourself you’re more likely to do a better job of all the looting and murdering and pillaging.”

“So you’re telling me that if you look good, because of all this, you’ll make a better captain?” Ed said, disbelievingly.

“Well it’s not quite that simple,” Stede chuckled. “And it’s not even about looking good, really. My God, man, have you seen me lately? If I was worried about the state of my hair every time we raided a ship I’d never get anything done at all! I’m a mess!” He laughed again. “No, it’s about feeling good. A little… pampering.”

Ed blinked at him. “Is this like retirement? And holidays?”

“Yes!” Ed jumped forwards, “Yes, it’s just like that! It’s about relaxing and unwinding and letting go of the stress of the day…”

He peered at Ed again. He looked like the sort of man who’d never let go of a stress in his life.

Then the idea struck him.

“How about I show you,” he said, taking the brush from the table and turning it over in his hands.

“Show me?”

“Yes, I’ll show you why I looted these things. And after, if you still don’t think they’re valuable, you can throw them into the sea.” He ran his finger over the embossed silver back of the brush. “Or sell them, when we next make port.” He looked up. “It’s really fake?”

Ed gave him an apologetic half-shrug. Stede shook his head.

“Cheap bastards. Ah well, real silver or not, it’ll do the job. What do you say?”

He leant back with a smile. Ed was staring at him like he’d gone mad.

“I can throw them into the sea if it turns out you really are as mental as you sound?”

“On my honour as a gentlem— as a pirate, yes.”

“Alright. But—”

Before he could finish, Stede was on him.

“Right, so, you sit here…”

He took Ed by the shoulders—one of his palms resting against the bare skin of Ed’s arm, warm and tingling—and guided him to a low-backed chairs. Ed allowed himself to be moved, collapsing down into the chair with a little huff and staring up at him, almost expectantly.

Something twisted not unpleasantly in Stede’s gut as he stared down at him. A heated tingling. The wound, he thought, remembering he and Ed’s odd first meeting. Still healing.

“Right,” he said again, blinking away the memory. “Where to start…”

~

Stede’s hands were on the back of his head. Humming and muttering to himself as he worked, he’d untied the cord that kept Ed’s hair back and smoothed out the strands with his fingers.

Ed could remember having his hair brushed exactly once, when he was a boy, wincing as his mother tugged the bristles through his hair after a day on the docks, caught in the wind. He’d been expecting a similar amount of pain now—wordlessly impressed that Stede had spoken so casually about something that Ed knew was painful—but it hadn’t come.

Stede had started at the tips then moved upwards. He tugged, but didn’t pull, and all Ed felt was an odd sort of pressure and the occasional drift of Stede’s fingers over his scalp as he separated his hair into sections.

It was… nice. Ed didn’t experience nice things often—nice things were not part of his world—but as Stede carefully brushed out the tangle of his hair he allowed himself to relax.

It took what felt like an age for Stede to smooth away all the tangles, but finally he moved back, placing the fake silver brush on the table behind him. Ed went to stand, but found those hands on his shoulders once more as he was forced back down.

“Not so hasty!” Stede laughed over his head. “We’ve only just gotten started!”

Ed had the sudden feeling that he was trapped— a hostage being tortured under enemy hands.

“Just gotten started?” He repeated, weakly.

“Oh yes,” Ed breathed. “You don’t think I’m going to let you out there looking like that do you? Goodness!”

“Like what?” Ed called over his shoulder as Stede moved back to the table. “Stede, like what—”

“Here we go,” Stede spoke over him, grabbing the gilded box from the table. “Now if I’m right…” he lifted the lid. “Oh, wonderful.”

“Wonderful?”

Stede removed a little bottle from the box with a flourish. “Now this,” he said, “is the good stuff. No wonder they were cheaping out on the brush.”

“It’s expensive?”

“Terribly so!”

“... and what is it?”

Stede stopped where he was holding the vial to the light, looking at the liquid inside. “Why, it’s oil, of course,” he said, grinning.

Ed gripped a little tighter to the arms of the chair. In his admittedly brief experience, expensive oil usually meant one thing only.

“What’s it for?” He asked, keeping his voice coolly casual.

“Oh!” Stede lowered the vial with a self-deprecating smile. “Sorry, here’s me blathering on… it’s for your hair, of course.”

“Of course,” Ed said, trying to smother the sudden, unbidden feeling of disappointment. “Um. Why?”

“Well it keeps it healthy, and makes it look shiny, and holds it down…” Stede started listing off on his fingers, “And the scent, of course, is very useful! Especially out here,” he gestured around, “where you’re more likely to get a keelhauling than a bath!”

Before Ed could respond, Stede was on him, the little bottle in his hand.

“Here, give it a sniff—” he opened the vial, holding it under Ed’s nose, “What do you think?”

Ed was assaulted with a heady, herbal aroma that made his eyes water.

“It’s a bit much,” he coughed.

Stede sniffed at the vial and made a disgusted face. “Eurgh, maybe not. Let’s see…” he started to rummage through the little box which, judging by the sound of clinking glass, was full of tiny vials. “Oh, how’s this?”

They proceeded to go through what felt like the whole box. After the sixth or so little vial, Ed was fairly sure they all smelt exactly the fucking same, but Stede was excitedly chatting about floral notes and seasons and fruity hints and he couldn’t quite bring himself to tell him to stop, nodding along as he pushed yet another bottle towards him with a wide grin.

Eventually, they settled on one—orange peel, apparently—and Stede hurried back around to the back of the chair. Ed wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but soon the air was full of the scent of oranges, and then Stede’s fingers were back at his scalp, warm and slick.

“Now,” he was saying, “we start at the scalp, and then comb it down through the rest of the hair. Simple, really, although—” Ed repressed a shiver as Stede brushed his fingers through the full length of his hair, “you’ve got quite a lot of hair. We may well be using the full bottle! This really is a luxury, I hope you’re taking note.”

As he leant back, Ed was certainly not taking note, too lost in the gentle way Stede’s fingers pressed into his head, massaging around his scalp in little circles. If this was what the aristocracy did all day, he could learn to love it. The last time someone had their fingers tangled in his hair like this they were attempting to chop his head off.

Stede was finished far more quickly than Ed would have liked, leaning back and grabbing the comb.

“I’m now going to comb the oil through,” he said, as if explaining something to a child, “right to the tips. Ah—” he paused, the teeth of the comb pressed to Ed’s temple and his hand cupping the back of his head. “Just had a thought. Best not go near any open flames for a bit, alright?”

“Alright.”

Stede started to comb in long, slow strokes. He moved carefully and deliberately, and Ed was struck with the realisation that he found himself in the hands of an expert. It was like the secret fucking room full of spare clothes; unexpected, and ridiculous, and something he’d never even consider himself, and—

And he wanted more of it. All of it. He let his eyes slide shut and leant his head back as Stede worked, pulling back his hair and finally retying it with the cord.

“There,” he said, far too soon. “That’ll about do, I would say. What do you think?”

Ed pulled himself back from near sleep, sitting up. His head felt like it had fallen through pink fog. He slowly rose from the chair, careful not to simply topple over, and watched as Stede placed the items on the table with far more care than he would have done, setting them at angles to each other. He wiped his hands on the empty sack before turning back to face him.

“Well?” Stede said. “Thoughts? Any notes? Or is to to be—” he mimed chucking the bag out of the window with a grimace and a laugh.

Ed hesitated. The collection of items—the toilet, Stede had called it—wasn’t valuable, not in the way it ought to be. Not in the way that could buy them bullets and gunpowder and food enough to last a week.

But he did feel relaxed. He felt less like his skeleton was about to jump out of his skin and throw itself overboard, less like there was a storm in his head. Stede had said it was supposed to make him feel confident, but it hadn’t: not in the same way that the leather and the guns and the smoke did.

But he felt good. In a boneless, unfamiliar way. Like floating in warm water staring at a blue sky.

“Well?”

He quickly fixed himself. “Keep it,” he said, gruffly. “You were right.”

“Oh goo—”

“But next time find us something we can sell, alright?”

Stede’s smile did not falter. “Of course!”

Ed went to go. He brushed a rogue strand of hair back behind his ear. The skin around his temples was a little oily.

He could still smell oranges.

He stopped. “Stede—”

“Yes?”

“You’re not.”

Stede frowned, head tilting. “Not what?”

Shit. “Not a mess.”

The frown deepened and then, finally, he remembered. “Oh? Oh! Well that’s certainly—” Stede stuttered, hands twisting together. “That’s very kind of you!”

“Right.” Ed nodded, feeling like an idiot. “Well. I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Finally, he headed for the door. As he opened it, he paused. He turned around; he couldn’t help it.

Stede waved at him, cheerily. “See you later!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Ed gave him a brisk nod, and strode back outside, looking for someone to shout at.

[five-rivers]

Three Twilights

Can be considered a loose sequel to Deep Sea Diver (same vibes).

Warnings: Soft body horror, Danny totally ignoring objectively horrifying things

.

.

.

“I was thinking,” started Maddie over breakfast, “we could start observations of that island that came into view last week, the blue one.”

Danny shook his head. “You’ll have to use the Speeder, then,” he said. “I’ve got an errand to run.”

There was a pause as both of Danny’s parents looked at him, confused. He didn’t blame them. Danny rarely went out as a human anymore, and certainly not for anything like errands. Looking like he was still fourteen after all this time made doing anything even remotely official difficult.

But this wasn’t a human errand. “Yeah,” said Danny. “In the Ghost Zone. I’ve got to go to Three Twilights.”

“Where?” asked Jack.

“It’s, um, a city,” said Danny. “Well, three cities, I suppose, depending on how you want to group them. One Realm. On the shores of the Celestial Sea. I’m sure I’ve put it in your files.” Probably a direct copy from his files from before he came clean to them, but still. He stirred his cereal counterclockwise, letting his ice powers chill the milk.

“Yes,” said Maddie, “but there are a lot of places in there. I’m not sure we’ve had a chance to properly look at them all, much less memorize them.”

“Okay, yeah,” said Danny. “I guess that makes sense.”

“What kind of errand are you running, Danno?”

“I’m picking something up for a friend. A book,” he clarified. “They lent it to someone there, but they need it back.”

“A book,” said Maddie. “For the Library of Tongues?”

“No, they’ve got a contract service for overdue loans.”

“Contract service?” asked Jack.

“Yeah. Moonlighting bounty hunters mostly.”

“For a library?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” said Danny, shrugging. “They’re really serious about their work.”

“If it isn’t for them, who is it for?” asked Maddie. “The princess? Wulf?” Wulf had actually been over a few times, and his parents had… Well, saying they got along would be an overstatement, they didn’t really have anything in common beyond ripping portals in the fabric of the universe, but everyone had been civil. “The boy at the school?”

“No,” said Danny. “Wulf would just get it himself.”

“Who, then?” pressed Maddie.

Danny put a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, delaying. Maddie hadn’t eaten anything since Danny had mentioned the errand. The errand was, in fact, for Clockwork. Danny was always more than happy to do anything for Clockwork. The older ghost had saved him too many times for him to be otherwise. But Jack and Maddie were wary of Clockwork. Danny didn’t get it, but talking about it hadn’t been productive so far.

He didn’t want to lie to his parents. Not ever again.

“It’s for Clockwork,” he said.

Ah, yes, there were those suspicious looks. The ones Danny could have interpreted even without being able to almost literally taste emotions.

“I see,” said Maddie.

“Anyway,” said Danny, quickly, “if I haven’t shown you Three Twilights yet, it’s really cool. I don’t want to take the full rig, but maybe the little ectocam would be okay? The one that I can clip on.”

“Why not the normal camera with an ectofilter?” asked Jack. “That has more features, and it’s easier for us to get data from.”

“Three Twilights. It’s dark there,” said Danny. “It might work in Civila, but not so much in Naŭtika and Astronomia, and I sort of want to go down to the beach and see if I can find any star pearls, and that’s really dark, so if you want to see anything properly, it’ll have to be the sonar setup, which I’m not doing, the noises that thing makes are offensive, or the ectocam.”

“And the Fenton Phones?” asked Maddie.

“Sure,” said Danny. “But I always bring those.”

“Yes,” said Maddie, after a moment. “You do.”

“Great. It’s settled, then.”

.

Most of the journey to Three Twilights could be made by air. Or, rather, what passed for air in the Infinite Realms. But when the rocky edge of an island came into view, Danny touched down. Further in was a blue wood, and Danny walked under its inviting branches.

The atmosphere started sunny, summery. The leaves and needles of the trees were the color of a clear blue sky. But as he got deeper, the leaves were touched with sunset colors: golds, reds, oranges, purples, and pinks. They fell to the ground, crunching beneath Danny’s feet. The sunset grew longer, deeper. The leaves on the trees grew sparser, revealing patches of sky.

By the time only bare branches framed the sky, it was a dusky, dim, purple. A few lonely stars twinkled in the sky.

He passed out of the forest. The city of Civila rose above him. Windows glowed in the near dark like eyes.

Danny had changed, too. His aura had dimmed. The whites of his suit were now dark gray, and patterns swirled on its surface like camouflage, like wind-twisted clouds, like nebulae.

Shadows bled around the corners of the city buildings like ink in water. Will-o-the-wisps bobbed, casting pools of illumination in lieu of streetlamps. Ghosts walked up and down the streets, or floated only a few meters up.

The buildings glittered. Everything was dark, vibrant, colors. A sharp, sweet scent filled the air, something dark and rich beneath it.

The canals in the center of the street were filled with flashing fish. Or perhaps serpents. Or perhaps worms. Between how fast they moved and the dimness of the light, it was difficult to tell.

Danny could feel his irises contracting, shrinking down to needle-thin rings. His teeth were sharp. He matched the other ghosts around him. This was how the Civila liked it, how things were in this part of Three Twilights.

Everything in order. Everything peaceful. Everything civil.

Danny walked through the market square, and bought some charcoal-colored cherry pastries from a vendor who looked like someone’s nightmare demon with a chip of ghost ice.

Much to his parents’ protests. They didn’t care for him eating ghost food.

There were seven bridges to Naŭtika, which was built half underwater and half on boats that floated both on the water and in the air. As the dark waters of the inlet lapped at his feet, Danny felt the changes ripple across his skin. To a human, he would look pure black, except for the faintest glimmer of rim lighting and the stars of his eyes. He and the other ghosts moved silently, cutting through the waters like shadows.

To Danny’s ghostly senses, the place was alive with emotion and force, energy loud and crackling against his senses.

“We’re solely on the ectocam, now,” said Maddie. “You were right about that.”

“Mhm,” said Danny, half distracted by a whispered sea-shanty backed by a choir of not-voices and not-sound that wove together with the mastery of a hundred years of practice.

He glided up a rope net, and began to navigate the ropes to the taller ships. The very tallest, the ones that scraped the ever-darkening sky and blotted out uneven sections of stars, moored the glass-like ships that floated above. He’d need to reach them, to get to Astronomia.

“What’s that?” asked Maddie, breaking his concentration on his path.

“What’s what?” asked Danny, whisper soft, drawing some looks. He turned, slowly, on the spot, planks barely creaking under his steps. A gentle wind ruffled his hair.

“There,” said Maddie. “By the ghost that’s registering red.”

It had taken Danny a long time to learn what color on the ectocam’s artificial sensor signified what, but he had, if only to reduce the guessing when they played this game.

“Star pearls,” said Danny, eyeing the ropes of stone that glimmered brighter than his eyes currently did. They were one of the only reliable forms of light, out on the Celestial Sea, although they were valued for other things, too.

“They’re putting out a massive amount of energy,” said Maddie.

“You mentioned them before,” said Jack. “You wanted to look for some?”

“On the shore,” said Danny. “Out past Astronomia.” He wanted to find his own, rather than buy them.

Partially because they were expensive. He didn’t really want to think about how much unmelting ice he’d have to conjure up to equal one of them. They were usually bartered in exchange for… more significant things.

The ghost by the pearls beckoned him closer, clearly hoping to make a sale. Danny shook his head, broadcasting regret and admiration for his wares. Speech might be faster but, under these circumstances, it would not be polite.

When Danny left, the social rules of Three Twilights would only leave the faintest impression on his mind. But, for now, they were a heavy, but not uncomfortable weight. One he could shrug off if necessary, but which was currently useful.

“What are they?” asked Maddie, as Danny turned away.

“They happen when big enough things fall into stars,” said Danny. “They’re all the memories of what they used to be… and the imagination of what they could become, when the star dies. Well, that’s what they’re supposed to be. I don’t think anyone really knows for sure.”

“And you can just… find these? Lying around?”

“Not… not really,” said Danny, slowly drifting towards a crow’s nest. “It’s like that one national park. That one where you can collect diamonds? You never really find anything good, but you can look.”

“I see,” said Maddie. “So, you don’t expect to find one?”

“Yes and no,” said Danny. “If I don’t expect to find one, I probably won’t. Unless the sea is feeling ironic, which it usually is, apparently. I mean, it’s an ocean and the stars. And prophecy is, like, ninety percent irony, but mostly for an outside observer. Which honestly makes sense, I think. An observer, not an Observant. Those are different things.”

The kind of silence on the other side of the line was the one that emerged when Danny used too much ghost logic.

“Anyway,” he continued as he scaled the crow’s nest and started traversing the glass ropes and chains to the all-but-invisible glass ships, “no, I don’t really expect to.”

The path to Astronomia was a staircase carved from moonstone harvested in October, when the moon was full and orange-red. It burned Danny’s eyes to look at and feet to walk upon. Like many ghosts who fixated on things like astronomy, he adapted quickly and thoroughly to the spiritual dark.

This darkest twilight was built of delicate bubbles, whorls, and arches of glass, any of which could cradle a ghost, all of which could be phased through with impunity. There were no true roads here, but certain places were easier to travel through. Addresses were carved in the glass in glimmering, holographic sigils made from glass-caught starlight that humans would never be able to read, but Danny could understand with a glance. It was not silent in Astronomia, the high wind sung through the glass like the immense instrument it was, playing ethereal and eternal music that mirrored heaven.

As always, Danny was enraptured. Perhaps the stars here were not true stars, only their memory and imagination (or simulacra made from stripped ghost cores, he remembered with a shudder), but he felt so close here.

“Danny? Are you still with us?”

Danny started to reply, but realized he had forgotten, once again, that he had no mouth here.

A phantabulist played a story for a group of not-quite-children, characters made of carefully constructed light chasing each other about with vigour. Danny stopped for a while to watch the story, a parable about spiders and fish. They were common here, storytellers who plied their craft this way. The stories could be pressed into glass prisms and orbs that served as books and viewed even in other environs of the Ghost Zone.

He moved on, passing through a glass bubble full of ghosts that snatched at and stroked him as he passed by, leaving stars and dark clouds to swirl across his skin. His suit had long since smoothed over and sunk in. His skin was a thin surface, a membrane holding in liquid night. He was like smoke, like vapour, thin and easily overlooked.

The places he passed were homes, places of business, warehouses, and hotels, organized without any apparent reason. A phantabularium glowed like a struck match, snatches of story visible inside its walls. He walked by.

Eventually, he reached the palace at the city center.

The ghost who lived there was old. Older, perhaps, than Pandora. She filled the vessels of her palace in placid pools connected by crystalized threads and looping tubes. Seven round-bottom flasks, radiating outward, like the spheres of heaven. The music here was almost deafening.

This was Urania, Muse of Astronomy. Astronomia was her city, and subordinate to her will before all else.

Danny resisted the urge to kneel. He was not here as a supplicant, and they both knew it.

The lowest pool bubbled, and slowly a glass prism, a dodecahedron, floated to the top. Danny took it with careful hands and left Urania’s direct presence as quickly as possible.

Being near her was always difficult. She was the Muse of Astronomy, and she felt he did not indulge his second Obsession as much as was proper.

Indeed, she thought it should be his first.

(The starlight inside him pulsed. He was never sure how much influence Urania could exert on him when he visited Three Twilights, never sure how much the relationship between his passions shifted when he was here. He loved it here too much to stay away forever.)

Astronomia did not end all at once. Instead, as one walked farther from the palace, the delicate, clear glass was replaced by black sand. When Danny had feet again, and could feel the grains beneath them, he knew he was no longer in Astronomia, but on the Shores of Night. The Isles of the Moon were faintly visible in the distance, sea-spray framing them in silvery halos.

He felt human here. His breath moved in his lungs, and his skin rose in goosebumps, the sleeves of his t-shirt fluttering in the wind. The sea and the sky were the same, and twice as beautiful for it.

“Sorry for going silent on you there,” said Danny. “I keep forgetting I don’t have a mouth there.”

“How do you forget that?” asked Jack.

“I don’t know.” Danny shrugged, even though he knew Jack couldn’t see him. “Do you think the ectocam might be able to spot buried star pearls?”