#bad news the job doesn't start for a couple weeks (at least)

[fearlesshades]

God I wanna write soooooo bad I have so many scenes for PDTMSA planned out in my head but I have no energy rn and it sucks so much and I feel so bad for the people waiting for the next chapter but every time I sit down at a keyboard all of the words I just had run away no matter what I do

[stevieschrodinger]

Wayne knows something big must have happened. Well, he knew objectively that it was big, Eddie spent a couple of weeks in the hospital and half the town fell into a trench, so yeah, Wayne was aware. But it wasn't until Wayne saw that Eddie was suddenly hanging out with a girl called Nancy, pretty and clever and even to Wayne's untrained eye 'a cool kid' that Wayne knew the world had shifted when he wasn't looking.

Eddie had never had friends, not really, and the friends he did have were brought together by that godawful music he likes and roleplay games (yes, Wayne knows what that is, he does listen when Eddie speaks). So, Eddie's never had much in the way of what you'd call social standing, not in the pecking order of the local high school at least.

This thought may have occured to Wayne at the sight of Nancy, but it was driven home by the sight of the Harrington boy coming through the front door of the New Trailer. Even Wayne knows who the Harrington boy is, and Wayne knows he basically lives under a rock. Eddie's told him enough times.

Eddie mumbles something about a shower and a quick change and Harrington looks twelve shades of uncomfortable as Eddie abandons the poor kid in their lounge. Wayne is absolutely certain nothing about the New Trailer is up to the standards the Harrington boy is familiar with.

Still, he's just a kid, and When Wayne indicates the couch next to his recliner, the kid sits gingerly and they both get to the job of ignoring one another.

Until theres a bad fowl, the ref makes a shitty call, and the Harrington kid makes a noise in the back of his throat that Wayne can't help but echo. "Shitty," Wayne comments passively.

Steve hums agreeable, and then says, "he was having a good run, too".

"Yeap, seasons just warming though."

And then Steve says something, and Wayne answers, and before he really knows what's happening he's having an in depth discussion with the Harrington kid who looks, if anything, equally enraptured, if the way he's leaning forward on the couch is anything to go by.

Eddie isn't at all interested in sports, but the Harrington kid sure as hell is and Wayne quickly discovers that it doesn't matter if it's baseball, football, or basketball, the kid is all over it. He's even started twittering about the Olympics.

Wayne can't help himself, he's not had anyone to talk to like this for a long time, not outside of his very occasional visits to the local bar, and before he knows what's happening the Harrington boy is now Steve and he's swinging by on Saturday afternoon to watch the game.

Eddie stands in the hallway, shocked and appalled, "I leave you alone for ten minutes..."

[luveline]

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you start to second guess your relationship when eddie doesn't waylay you with his usual abundance of kisses after work. meanwhile, eddie tries to work out what's upsetting you, how to fix it, and most urgently, how to ask you a super important question. fem!reader, 5k

cw: eddie skipping meals at work, suggestive flirting

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

Eddie's borrowed headphones slip down your head as you dance. Nothing dramatic, a shoulder wiggle as you do the dishes. You can't hear the racket you're making, plates crashing into one another on the drying rack, the hot water pounding the basin, the clip of your sock-clad foot against wooden slats as you tap it. 

Your hands burn at the high temperature. Your fingertips are pruned, palms chapped as you finish washing Eddie's mountain of dishes. His whole apartment was in similar disarray before you arrived, laundry to the eyes and one of his haphazard book towers collapsed in the bedroom. The dishes had been scraped and rinsed but not washed, the laundry designated to one corner of the bathroom; Eddie's not unclean, necessarily, but unfocused. 

You had time. You don't mind coming over to help him out. 

Though if he knew you were here doing this he'd blow a gasket. I don't want you wasting your time doing shit I should've done a week ago, he'd say. 

It isn't time that matters to you. You'd take a couple of days out if it helped him, if it meant he could enjoy the place he lives to the fullest extent. Plus, you spend time here too. And you get to borrow his Walkman the whole time. Eddie has the best tapes. 

You hum along to the finishing line of the song and set the last clean cup upside down on the draining board. Satisfied at a job well done, you wipe the sink basin clean, drain suds from the sponge, and turn off the water. Cool air floats in through the open window, kissing your lightly perspiring skin hello. 

You dry your hands on a cloth and push Eddie's headphones carefully down to your neck, more than careful with his things. He works hard for everything he has, days and nights and any shift they want him to take. Most of it goes into his savings account. His spare change gets dropped into a washed out pasta sauce jar on the sill for a forthcoming rainy day. Ridiculous amounts of it get spent on you, and if you asked Eddie he'd say it was perfectly reasonable, sweetheart. 

You're not asking him. You don't think new clothes and sweet treats nearly every time you see him counts as reasonable, but you'd be a liar if you said you didn't appreciate it. 

Hence your unsanctioned use of his spare key. You buy him treats too, but money can't buy the satisfaction of a clean home. (Well, it could. Hiring a day maid might've been quicker and cleaner in the end, but would a day maid have put their heart and soul into dusting his figurines with a makeup brush for fifteen minutes?)

You turn around with Eddie on your mind, feeling grateful and tired at once. Your thoughts stutter at the warm body standing casually in the doorway, his shoulder pressed to the jam, a rucksack and a carabiner of keys hanging from his curled fingers. 

"Hey," Eddie says. 

You flinch like he's coming at you, startled by his sudden appearance. 

His laugh is apologetic, at least. "Woah! I thought you heard me, where's your head?" 

You slap a hand to your racing heart and huff out a breath that fans up your face. Eddie straightens from his cool guy slouch, dropping his keys on the counter and sliding his bag beside them. 

"It's around here somewhere," you say through a smile, trying and failing to glare at him as he puts his hands on your waist. "You scared me bad." 

"It was accidental." 

He pulls your hips to his and leans back. A close pressure without being particularly sexual. It's obvious that he's looking you over, like you might've miraculously run into harm in the sixteen hours you've been apart. 

"I didn't think you'd be back yet, sorry," you say breathlessly, still recuperating from your scare. 

"I'm the sorry one." 

He brings a hand to your face. If there's one thing you can count on with your boyfriend, it's that he's going to find an excuse to touch your face at least once a day, whether it be with the back of a ring-heavy finger trailing down your cheek lightly, or a flat, hot palm, calluses scratching ever so slightly as he squeezes it into whatever shape he feels like. Never cruel, but melding. 

He's in a mood. 

Not salacious. Teasing at most, he pulls a rough line down from the corner of your eye to your lips. 

"Why are you doing my dishes?" he asks. 

His hands smell like citrus scrub and white vinegar. They must've had him cleaning in the kitchen at work again. 

"So you wouldn't have to. I know you don't mean to let them pile up." 

"I'll find my laundry in the dryer, I'm guessing." 

"Nope. Folded in your dresser, more like."

He pulls your chest to his, the heat of his breath kissing your nose. It smells like the spearmint gum he chews obsessively during his morning shifts. Eddie has a theory that eating in the mornings is breaking a seal —you'll be much hungrier for the rest of the day than you would've been otherwise. Better to wait for lunch. 

You hate his theory (three meals a day plus as many snacks as he needs would be perfect,  if he could find the time) and his gum for what it represents. It reminds you that he likely hasn't eaten today, and you're quick to start brainstorming ideas for dinner from the ingredients you'd seen while cleaning. He has ground beef, enough eggs to make pasta, and a tupperware of frozen soup from last Wednesday. The world's your oyster. 

"What are you thinking about?" he asks. You don't have time to answer. "I wish you didn't do all the laundry, babe. Those stairs are a fucking killer." 

He leans that last inch. A kiss is coming any second now, your pulse capering between your ears. A hundred kisses shared between you and you wait for the next with the same calibre of excitement as you did for the first. 

"I owe you a deep tissue massage, right?" he murmurs. 

You beam at him, pushing the heel of your palm against his chest to widen the distance between you into something a little less heart-pounding. "You haven't eaten today, have you?" 

"I'm pretty hungry," he says, his voice smooth as angora silk. 

He looks, again, like he might kiss you. His eyes dip to your lips, a molten brown shining in the kitchen light. You wait, and you wait, but he doesn't close the gap. 

You push your smile to one side, your eyelashes twined in the corners from the force of it. Your smile isn't entirely genuine. It's cool if he doesn't wanna kiss you… sort of. He can do whatever he likes, of course, you'd never force him to kiss you just to keep you happy or for any other reason, but you're a little down at the idea that he doesn't want to. You love how they feel. You're used to them as both hello and goodbye. 

Eddie might not want to kiss you, but he isn't putting on a show, his amorous smirking a reality you battle with (read: give in to, enjoy, daydream about) on the regular. Perhaps he isn't eager to ravish you after a full day bussing tables. That's more than okay. 

However he might be feeling, you aren't going to let him go hungry a minute longer. "Dinner?" you ask. 

"I was thinking sloppy Joes," he says, his hand running down your arm. He turns for the fridge. You follow. "Brioche buns?" 

You step in front of him, the fridge door a cacophony of glass rattling as you tug it open. "I'm making them." 

Eddie wraps his arms around you, moving you bodily to the side. It's too quick for you to dig your heels in. 

"You used to be a gentleman," you complain. 

"No, I didn't." He taps your ankle with the rubber toe of his converse. 

You make dinner together, to each other's chagrin. Eddie steals spatulas and frying pan handles from your grip. You bump his hip away from the stove grill to toast buns. When you sit down together on the couch, it's at war, elbows digging into soft spots and cups placed out of reach on the coffee table. 

"Dick," you say. 

Eddie takes a bite, says, "You're the dick, dick," and starts shovelling fries onto your plate. "Giving me more fries is ridiculous. We should eat the same portions, we're the same age." 

"But one of us had breakfast and lunch, and one of us didn't," you say, using your fork to give his gifted fries straight back. 

And here's where you get the first inkling that something's making him not want to kiss you, emphasis on you. 

Eddie loves kissing you when he feels loved. For obvious starters, whenever you tell him you love him he makes sure to kiss your lips. When you make him laugh, when you wash his hair in the shower, when you draw stars into his palms, all those things garner a fond peck to the temple. He kisses the space just under your ear so often you're sure there's a contusion in the shape of his mouth there, permanent and purpling, his go-to whenever he's laying on top of you or hugging you from behind. 

You can count on a mildly greasy kiss no matter the meal. Eddie loves eating dinner together. He waits for you to get home, sometimes for hours, to share a plate with you. You've never not indulged him with a kiss. Tonight, he doesn't ask. 

It would be here. Name-calling dripping in affection, you elbow glancing off of his as you cut into your sloppy Joe, and the TV failing to cover the sound of a quick kiss before he digs in. You're gutted at the lack and surprised to have noticed it, but you don't go so far as to mourn the loss: Eddie's likely too hungry to think about kissing, that's all. Right?

Despite attempts to convince you otherwise, he's hungry. He finishes his plate in what feels like five big bites, hair tucked behind his ears, an innocent but far off look about him as he wipes his fingers in a piece of kitchen towel and leans back into the couch cushions with a small groan. 

"We should stop eating on the couch," he says. 

"You told me you wanted to sit here." You're confused. 

"It's like, testing fate. I'm a mess. I'll ruin it and have to get a new one I can't afford." 

You chew on a fry. "I mean," —you put your hand over your mouth, pleased when he turns to you with a ready-made smile, like the act of just looking at you is one he enjoys— "even if you drop something on it, we can Didi Seven it. Or get one of those fancy water vacuum things." 

"It's my couch," he says. "You wouldn't have to clean it." 

"You're my boyfriend," you respond, "so I wouldn't mind." 

"I'm your boyfriend," he says, his head tilted ever so slightly to one side. 

His lips close, his eyes tracking up and along the lines of your features with an unnameable emotion in his gaze. You'd like to say that it's love, but you're starting to think it's something else. 

"Don't say it like that. You sound too unsure," you say.

Amusement dances across his face. "Are you finished?" he asks, opening his hand for your tray. 

"No," you say, faux-stroppy. You take another fry. 

Eddie grabs his tray. He skirts around your legs and stops at your side. In his more dopey moods, he'd take your face into his hand again and hold your head still as he kisses your crown. 

He squeezes your shoulder. "I'm not unsure about anything," he says warmly. "I'll get you a drink, yeah? Ice?" 

A chuck under the chin with his forefinger and he's gone, leaving you sitting there wondering what's wrong with him. Home an hour now and not one single kiss? Is this the end of the honeymoon phase? How do people survive this shit, you think. It's agonising.

Your chewing turns morose. 

You and Eddie go through phases, waxing and waning, as most people do. There's always love there, but sometimes there's so much of it you don't know what to do with yourself besides lavish in it. Only yesterday morning he'd been in your bed, shirtless (as you often wish he'd be), dark ink like bruises in the low light where it climbed the lengths of his arms and his bare chest. You were lax under his touch, his nose and lips pressing to your skin as he kissed you from rib to soft tummy. Slow, kissing you as though he had nowhere else to be but there. As though his next shift wasn't thirty minutes around the corner. 

You were mortified when he blew a raspberry. Now you're thinking you might peel out of your shirt and ask him to do it again if it means he'll kiss you in any definition. 

"What are you thinking about?" he asks as he returns, his hand sliding along from your shoulder to the other while he steps over your legs. 

"What are you thinking about?" you ask. 

"Feeling very repetitive today, are we?" he teases, no consideration for your dinner tray as he collapses into the seat beside you. 

You're expecting his cheek on your shoulder, his hair tickling your upper arm. It doesn't come. Worried he's discouraged by your tray, you place it on the coffee table and sit back. You really want him to kiss you. 

Kissing someone isn't something you thought you'd want to do before you met Eddie. To be kissed, sure. To give a chaste peck, absolutely. But to have someone put their weight on you, to press at the seam of your lips with their own and to wade in like a steady wave, one breath at a time, until you're unsure where the boundary of your mouth begins and his ends, that was all new. Eddie kisses like he loves, loud and brash, rough and eager. Gentle when he needs to be but arduous. 

He makes you feel wanted in a thousand ways and the first is his greedy penchant for stealing a kiss or three at every opportunity. It's weird that he hasn't kissed you yet. He's acting weird. 

"You're being super weird," you say. You feel like a pressure cooker with steam pouring from the release valve. 

Eddie smirks at you. "That so? Any explanation attached to that, or are we name-calling? I have some names for you, if we are." 

"Oh, I have to know." 

"Figured you would." He throws his leg over your thigh. The firm muscle of it tenses as he wiggles his foot. 

"What were you gonna call me?" you prompt impatiently.   

"Sweetheart. Angel." He turns his cheek into the back of the couch, bringing his pinky to your face and drawing a line from the smoothest skin under your eye outward. "Pretty. Very pretty." 

"Says you," you murmur. If he thinks you're so pretty, why won't he kiss you? "I can't work out your angle today." 

"Am I acting differently?" he asks, seemingly unperturbed. 

No. He just hasn't kissed you. There might have been a moment when he first came home where you thought he was hesitating to kiss you, but since then he's acted exactly as he usually does (minus kissing, therefore making it unusual). 

You sigh, half serious and half wanton sadness. "No." His nose twitches. You startle. "What?" 

"Nothing." 

"What, do I have bad breath?" you ask, bringing a hurried palm to your mouth to try and test it. 

Eddie pulls your hand down, admonishing through a laugh, "You obviously don't. You know I'd tell you, babe." 

"Oh." 

"I got gum though, if you want it." 

You bat his chest. "I bet you do… I don't know what it is, then. I give up." 

"What's what?" he asks. He takes a curl of his hair around a painted fingernail. It coils on his finger, where he pinches the end, bringing it up to your chin and drawing a smile under your lips with the tip. 

"I… do I have something in my teeth? A zit? What's the issue?" you ask, lost. 

"There's no issue!" He laughs, and he curves his hand gently around your neck. "Why do you think there's an issue?" he asks. A thread of his voice wavers. Impossible to notice if you didn't know everything about him, down to the stray hair. 

"No, because," —your voice shrinks— "you're being off with me." You won't cry, but it's impossible to stop the doubt that seeps into your voice. "You're not…" 

Eddie strokes your neck with his thumb, growing serious. "I'm not what?" 

"You haven't kissed me." You avoid his eyes. "Not since you saw me." 

"I'm sorry," he says, immediately dipping forward. 

You pull back. "Wait–" 

Eddie waits. "What?" he asks. 

"I don't want you to kiss me just 'cus I asked you to." 

Eddie pushes his hand upward, his index finger shaped to your jawline. He rubs a quarter circle from your chin to your jaw tentatively with his thumb, an awful sorry look in his eyes that he gets whenever you're upset. "Well, I always want to kiss you," he confesses. His eyebrows furrow. "You know that, right?" 

"But you haven't, today." 

Is that pathetic? you panic. Noticing, caring, it feels so, so silly all of a sudden, you can't believe you spilled it that easily. You may as well have written clingy loser across your forehead in glaring pen. 

Eddie sees it. He doesn't cringe at you like you fear he will. 

"Ah," he says, almost humming, his lips barely parted, "that's just not okay, is it? My girl waiting on a kiss." 

He leans in. You shy away, wanting his kiss but wanting the run up more. Eddie follows your lead, keeping space between you, rubbing a diligent and affectionate circle into your cheek. His touch is soft enough to tickle. 

"I'm not trying to act desperate, I just figured– I thought there was a reason you hadn't," you say. 

Eddie asks you in his softest, most genial tones if he can kiss you. 

You don't say yes so much as you lift your chin and close your eyes. Your relief is sharp as he closes the fizzing space between you, as he guides your face to his and holds it there like a treasured pearl cupped in two palms. He makes a sound at the back of his throat that kills any doubts of his affection stone cold dead. Your lips part a millimetre if that, and Eddie slots into the gap, his hands growing less and less careful by the second, the pressure of his touch amping up. He moves back only long enough to turn his head, your noses bumping, another breathy sound slipping past his lips. You smother it gracelessly with a rougher reciprocation. 

It's not your longest kiss, but it works. It's the reassurement you needed. Eddie pulls away to suck in a harsh breath, the feeling foreign against your tingling lips. His face dips, his eyes out of view. His hands move in twin down the slope of your neck, languish, feel along the thin layer of your t-shirt as though he's looking for some secret answer. 

"I'm not trying to act weird around you, I'm just nervous," he says.

You feel your back aching, stiff as a rod. "Nervous?" you ask quietly. 

Eddie rests his forehead on your chin. He whispers a cuss, and then he sits up very tall and looks you in the eye. 

It takes him five seconds to tell you what it is that's making him anxious. In that time, you come up with a handful of things. I lost my job. I don't want to be with you anymore. There's someone else. There's no one else, but you did something that pissed me off/made me uncomfortable/disgusted me. I'm sick. None of your guesses are good, and none prepare you for what he asks next. 

"Would you wanna move in with me?" 

His hand meanders along your thigh. An awkward smile catches his lip like a fish hook, tugging it up on one side. 

"I… what?" 

"I think it's a good idea. I was trying to ask you yesterday, and now today it didn't feel right. I don't want you thinking I'm asking because you did my laundry." His hand warms your thigh, a pervasive heat. Your face is similarly hot. "We could split rent, and you could keep saving. You wouldn't have to deal with your shitty neighbours. You'd be closer to your job, and– and to me. It's a good idea," he repeats. "There's a ton of reasons it would be good for you, but I'm asking 'cus I missed you so bad last night I couldn't sleep. I wanna be with you whenever we can be." 

"You'd really want me to?" you ask. 

"You'd never have to wait for a kiss again," he says hopefully. "I know it's a big move. I get it if you're not ready." 

"I'm ready," you say. You don't know it's true until you've said it aloud. 

Delight sparks and catches like sun-dried tinder. Elation lights his eyes. "Holy shit, yeah? You want to?" 

"Yeah," you say, nodding emphatically, trying not to yell. "Yes, I want to. I'd love to! That would be–" 

"A dream," he finishes, snatching your waist into his grasp, basically yanking you into his arms.

"Amazing," you say, your arms forced over his shoulders. 

You wrap your arms around the back of his head, curls that smell of almond oil and a generous dollop of hair mousse crushed to your face. Your eyes slip closed. You suck in an inconspicuous breath, though your self-indulgent action is interrupted by a groan, Eddie squeezing you hard enough to make the bones in your back click three at a time. 

"I can't believe you, sweetheart. I don't kiss you for an hour and you think there's something wrong?" He laughs.

"I'm spoiled," you say sheepishly. To draw his attention, you add, "I can't believe you, afraid to ask me that! Why would I say no? I love you." 

"I love you, too," he says, pulling the small of your back tighter still so he can dig his nose into the side of your head. 

He kisses you all over the side of your face until you're painted in little warm patches from overexposure. A loved up mess, and dizzy with relief.

Relief and excitement. "How soon do you want me in here?" you ask, sitting back. 

"How soon do you want another kiss?" he asks. 

"Will we be stealing each other's questions all day?" you ask. 

"For the rest of time, if I get my way." 

"That's so corny," you whisper, ecstatic. 

Eddie pushes you down onto the couch cushions. You know before he so much as pulls up a knee that he's going to climb on top of you. You make room for him, your heart feeling like it could breach through your ribs one bone at a time. 

"What are you doing?" you whisper with a smile. 

"Making up for lost kisses."

—

Two Weeks Later

Eddie wakes to a kiss. 

Your arm thrown over his waist, your hand feeling greedily at the trim curve atop his hip, you've well and truly wrapped yourself around him. Like an octopus. He imagines the popping sound of your suckers if he tried to detach you (not that he'd want to). 

You're dotting shy, soft kisses down the column of his throat. "I love you," you say softly between them, a melody that turns him to jelly. "I love you. Love you, love you, love you." 

Your kisses are a compromise —after the general holy fucking shit-ism of your conversation a fortnight ago, Eddie put his foot down. He was out of his mind knowing his apartment was about to become yours, but he was also incredibly unhappy about the faces you'd made before he asked. He remembers your voice, your apprehension as you mumbled, "No, because, you're being off with me."  

Eddie had been totally off trying to figure out how to ask what was potentially the second most important question he could ever ask you; he was distracted enough by it that he totally forgot about kissing you senseless. And your worrying asked a totally new question he hadn't thought of before. Why does Eddie always kiss you first? And why had the lack of a kiss been seen as a bar, and not an invitation? 

Hence Project Kiss Me, Stupid. Or Project Kiss Me Stupid if he's feeling particularly in love (because you aren't stupid at all, but you may have made an unintelligent assumption (Eddie not kissing you for a few hours did not mean even slightly that he isn't gross in love). 

The project was more like a proposal. Eddie decided you should be making the first move more often, so you weren't ever left feeling like something was wrong between you for lack of a kiss again. "If you ever think I'm mad at you, plant one on me. I promise I won't be mad much longer," he told you.

You're passing with flying colours, as far as he's concerned. Eddie thinks your moving in was gift enough, but fuck, all these kisses? He's been a walking vestibule of love, and lust, and sickening fondness for two weeks now. Project Kiss Me Stupid is the best thing that's ever happened to him. He's a genius.

"Good morning," you say into his neck, a hint of teeth scratching him with the greeting. Eddie cups the back of your head with a weak, tired groan as your lips close over his pulse.

"Morning," he says. His voice is thick with the grit of sleep. 

"This is okay?" you ask, pausing in your kiss. 

Eddie tips his head back heavily into plush pillows, your pillows, fresh with new bedding to match the nightstands you'd decided on together. "Please," he says. His arm slides behind your back to belt you in. "I'm gonna think you don't like me anymore if you take any longer." 

"Very funny," you murmur. 

He knows he's forgiven for teasing when your face dives back into the crook of his neck. His eyes shutter closed, blissed, thinking, God, I could get used to this, when you nip him. 

"You didn't like my joke, I take it?" 

"It was funny," you say, giving him a scratching kiss.

"That's counter-intuitive," he warns. "I like it rough." 

You fall away from him to cover your face with both hands. He knows he's rubbing off on you at the sight, your head shaking a theatrical side to side that fails to hide real embarrassment beneath it. You look especially tortured. 

Eddie knows exactly how to fix it. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thanks so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed!

[werecreature-addicted]

I WANT A HALLMARK HALLOWEEN MOVIE. Put in the same energy as they do in their Christmas ones.

Like I know they did do Halloween movies a couple years ago but it’s not what the people want.

Those are like almond mom Christian movies that take the fun out of the spooky month.

I want coco to be replaced by pumpkin spice. Snow replaced by fallen leaves.

Girl moving into a small town and somehow finds herself at the widowed lumberjacks barn who turns out to be Frankensteins monster or moth-man.

I don’t want a Christmas prince! I want a Halloween prince. Where we get married on Halloween and by some lazy writing our baby is born on Halloween!

Decorating the Christmas tree with the town bad boy? I want to carve pumpkins with the loner werewolf.

I want that corny romance stuff. With a sprinkle of Halloween spirit of spooky miracle. Idfk.

I doesn’t even have to be hallmark that does it. There are tons of other small studios that make those kinds of movies. I just Halloween girlies to feel special.

busy businesswoman from New York City is back home for her small hometown's annual Halloween Festival/ Parade/ Celebration. She thinks Halloween is corny and for kids but also her birthday is October 31st- a fact she tries to keep secret from the rest of the town although her family eventually lets it slip.

she has a meet ugly where the town handyman jump scares her with a plastic skeleton Halloween decoration and she trips back and falls into a puddle of mud ruining her busy business suit! the man isn't a bad guy though and he gives her a change of clothes and hey- she actually looks better dressed down out of that stuffy suit.

She's still pissed though and is in the middle of threatening him with the dry cleaning bill when her Execntic Uncle/ grandpa/ town old man walks in and officially introduces the two. Definitely not a werewolfman, who's been doing all this work setting up the town Halloween festival and Female Lead Back from the big city for the holiday and for some convoluted business reason too. even though they might not like each other now they have to at least be polite for the sake of this weird random old man they both know.

It becomes clear that Definitely Not a werewolfman is too kind for his own good and keeps trying to make everyone happy by promising impossible things at the Halloween festival and puts off planning and arranging things to play with kids and drink warm apple cider with old ladies so Female Lead has to step in with her busy business skills and get things in order, things start to fall into place and hey- they make a pretty good team. and even if Werewolfman isn't as serious as her new york boys...maybe that's a good thing.

They spend the night eating pumpkin spice cookies and drinking hot chocolate while making paper bat banners for a parade float and share a kiss. things are going great until oh no!! it turns out he's a werewolf and transforms in front of her.

she is inraged he never told her this huge secret over the week that they've known each other. She doesn't care that he's a werewolf- she cares that he lied to her and the town. Then she gets a call from Business Inc. back in New York. they need her back in town TOMORROW but- tomorrow is Halloween. what will she do? will she choose the town that accepted her and the Halloween festival she worked so hard on? or job?

Werewolf man sets off the festival and it's a huge hit but the whole time he's looking for Female Lead but can't find her...she must have gone back to NEEEEEW york... but then someone jumps out at him with a plastic skeleton it's Female Lead!! she staid after all and has been at the party in a Halloween costume. something she swore she'd never wear. he apologizes for hiding the fact he's a werewolf from someone he's known for less than a month. she says she's quit her job and is staying in town with him. they kiss and say i love you. then he pulls her away from the party to make a wish on a small cupcake with a candle on it- it is her birthday after all.

The cammera pans out to a shot of the old man from before who winks at the camera. he was the spirit of Halloween magic all along (sorry there's no Halloween equivalent of Santa)

[bridgertonbabe]

So having read the bridgerton spouse group chats by you and bridgerton family group chats by @holybatgirlz I’ve realised Benedict seems to always been one of the ones getting injured during family games night…

Does Sophie ever ban him from playing after an Injury or flat out refuse to go after she’s had all four kids and Benedict ends up back in hospital and ends up out of action for a few weeks meaning Sophie has four kids and a husband to tend to (and forces the injuring causing party to wait on him hand and foot for the duration of his Convalescence)

Also on another point… reading these makes me wanna write a family games night fic 😂😂

I feel like by the time all the spouses are married in and as they all start their families that Bridgerton game nights would become a bit calmer - only fractionally, but enough that the hospital visits aren't as frequent and the injuries sustained are far less serious. Though the Bridgertons (and Kate) remain insanely competitive to a terrifying degree, the spouses manage to limit game nights to once a year at most and then following the annual game night the spouses make it very clear how little they care for the family's version of a casual night of board/parlour games, and at the very least some of the Bridgertons take their partners feelings on board and attempt to mellow their competitiveness (kinda).

But with that being said, just because the injuries at game nights wind down, doesn't mean casualties don't occur through other competitive dumbass means...

BSSG Group Chat

Sophie: Guys I'm at the hospital.

Penelope: omg are you ok?????

Lucy: oh no what's happened?

Sophie: Ben broke his leg.

Phillip: Shit how did he manage that?

Sophie: He broke it go-karting.

Gareth:

Simon: What the ever living fuck was he doing go-karting?

Lucy: and not to be ageist - but at his age????

Phillip: The fuck is he playing at?

Gareth: i have to know

Gareth: did he go by himself?

Michael: Gareth please don't make this any more tragic for Ben or any more embarrassing for Sophie

Sophie: For your information he wasn't by himself.

Lucy: then who the hell did he go with????

Penelope: wait

Sophie: Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news

Phillip: Oh no

Simon: Please don't say it

Sophie: But it was a Bridgerton sibling day out

Michael: Oh for fuck's sake

Lucy: but greg told me he was going to spend the afternoon helping his mum pick up the flowers and decorations for penelope and eloise's baby shower on saturday!

Penelope:

Simon: As much as I can share in your dismay Lucy I can't say I'm remotely shocked to learn that Daphne and her siblings all lied about their whereabouts to hide the fact that they were having a sneaky go-karting afternoon 😑

Michael: I'm well aware I'm including my wife in this but do none of them have jobs??? Who goes go-karting on a Wednesday afternoon????

Phillip: Lets just be grateful that there was only one casualty from their go-karting escapade.

Sophie: ...

Sophie: Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news again

Simon: Sophie don't you dare

Penelope: oh god do we even want to know

Sophie: But they've all been hospitalised.

Lucy:

Michael: Why

Simon:

Michael: Why must they be like this

Gareth: just how exactly do 8 people get taken to hospital from a single go-karting afternoon?

Phillip: Soph is El ok????? I'm on my way right now

Sophie: She's ok Phil and so is the baby, she's just got a sprained wrist. She fared the best out of them all injury wise.

Penelope: El's fared the best???????

Michael:

Michael: Just what exactly is the extent of the damages we're talking here @ Sophie

Sophie: So Colin has a broken leg to match Ben's, Anthony's in a neck brace, Fran's fractured a couple of ribs, Daph's fractured her arm while Greg's broken his and has bruised his coccyx, and Hy's broken her big toe and is currently sporting an eye patch.

Penelope: COLIN'S BROKEN HIS LEG???????

Penelope: I'm 4 weeks away from giving birth wtf am I supposed to do with Limpy for a husband?!?!?!?

Lucy: ffs greg and i were supposed to be playing tennis with hermione and my brother this sunday 😤

Gareth: at least this isn't your wife:

Gareth: and soph how exactly did hy end up with an eye patch from go-karting?

Sophie: Greg shot her.

Lucy: HE DID WHAT

Simon: He shot her?????

Michael: Wow Greg shot Hy?

Michael: Honestly I would have imagined Fran snapping before Greg

Gareth: @ Sophie if you've previously failed to mention that my wife is wearing an eye patch because she's been blinded in that eye NOW WOULD BE THE TIME TO MENTION IT

Sophie: Relax she hasn't been blinded, it's just precautionary until the swelling's gone down.

Lucy: CAN WE GET BACK TO THE PART WHERE MY HUSBAND SHOT HIS SISTER

Penelope: yeah wtf is Greg doing with a gun????

Simon: And why does he have one for go-karting?!?!??!

Sophie: Ok so it was a BB gun he was using

Lucy: AND HE HAD IT BECAUSE?!?!?!?!?

Sophie: Well you're all going to love this

Sophie: They weren't just doing regular go-karting

Phillip: What

Sophie: They were doing it Mario Kart style.

Michael:

Simon: I actually can't stand them.

Gareth: not to be pedantic but they don't have guns in mario kart

Gareth: did they get it mixed up with gta coz that would make way more sense with all of the injuries they've acculumated

Lucy: are you seriously telling me they were driving go-karts around a track while shooting at each other??????

Penelope: I'm a month away from giving birth to a Bridgerton baby 🙃

Sophie: Basically they were using an assortment of items like hurling banana peels and pouring out oil on the track to make the others slip, they were throwing frisbees and balls at each other which were meant to be like shells and they had a variety of water/nerf/BB guns to take each other out that way. All of which contributed to the massive pile up that caused most of their injuries.

Michael: God almighty

Gareth: question; was hy not wearing a helmet?

Sophie: She was but she had the visor open after Eloise sprayed it over with paint which was how she ended up getting shot.

Kate: Omfg

Kate: I cannot believe this!

Sophie: It's a lot to take in I know.

Kate: I can't believe they didn't invite me!

Michael: Kate do you even care that your husband is in a neck brace?

Kate: Well that's what he fucking gets for not including me! Karma's a bitch and so is Anthony!

Simon: @ Kate

Phillip: God can you imagine what Violet's reaction to this is going to be when she finds out?

Sophie: No need to imagine she already knows.

Penelope: omfg

Gareth: damn you already told on them???

Sophie: Violet was the first person I told as soon as I heard about it all. I'm sick to death of them all acting like this and being so stupidly reckless. Not one of them even stopped to think that it might not be a good idea and now I've got to see after 4 kids with an invalid for a husband, and the rest of their injuries will come as just as great an inconvenience to all of you as well!

Sophie: So yeah I immediately went to Violet to tell on them because I want her to wipe the absolute floor with them for being so thoughtless!!!!!

Penelope:

Gareth:

Michael: You did what had to be done Soph and for that I applaud you 👏👏👏

Sophie: But that's not all, I'm also punishing Ben for being so feckless.

Kate: Oooh kinky

Sophie: Far from it. For starters when I got here Ben wanted to cuddle Vi to cheer himself up but I told him no and that he's getting no snuggles with her from now until his cast comes off.

Gareth: holy shit you're gate-keeping his own daughter from him

Lucy:

Lucy: and i love it

Michael: How quickly did he start to cry?

Sophie: Instantaneously. It was incredibly rewarding.

Sophie: And I'd encourage you all to do the same with your respective Bridgerton in whatever way you see fit.

Penelope: once Colin's home I'll keep offering him food but then just sit and eat it right in front of him 😈😈😈

Gareth: i'm going to get a toy parrot and perch it on hy's shoulder and call her patchy 🦜

Simon: I'm not even going to bother picking Daph up from the hospital. She has to learn she can't keep pulling stunts like this as a mother of four.

Simon: That and I've already started drinking to deal with this nonsense so I couldn't even if I had to.

Phillip: I'm going to make El take and stay with the twins at back to back children's parties this weekend. She'll absolutely fucking hate it.

Kate: I'm just going to laugh in Anthony's face. Probably get the kids to join in too.

Lucy: damn i'm not sure what i'm going to do with greg

Michael: I'm going to withhold sex.

Penelope: damn that's a bold move

Simon: But is that going to be more of a punishment for her or you?

Michael: Not to give you all too much of an insight but that's going to kill Fran more than you'd think it would.

Michael: But that's what she gets for going along with her fam's unhinged competitive behaviour.

Michael: No more snu snu.

Penelope: I actually think if we all withheld sex from our respective partners that they might finally learn their lesson.

Lucy: that's... actually a very valid point that could very much work

Kate: Well we don't call them sex idiots for nothing.

Michael: They're essentially a bunch of horny Tinkerbells; they need sex to live.

Simon: I truly hate that sentiment. But you're not wrong.

Michael: So are you all following my lead? It's your own choice obvs, no pressure if anyone would prefer not to.

Gareth: i'm not exactly chomping at the bit to be having snu snu with patchy

Kate: Yeah neck braces don't make for a turn on either.

Penelope: And being this pregnant I'm not really in the mood for it as it is.

Sophie: Like I'm going to have the time or energy seeing after the kids while Ben's bedridden anyway.

Lucy: fine by me

Simon: I have 0 qualms with this method of punishment.

Phillip: Same here.

Michael: Then it's no snu snu all around! Vive le resistance!

[hedgehog-moss]

Some plant news! I've been waiting impatiently to see if the stuff I planted last autumn had survived the winter, and it's looking good so far. All my young fruit trees are blooming (quince, cherry, apple, mirabelle)

The persimmon has no blossoms but some microscopic leaves, I hope it grows more vigorous... I only lost one baby chestnut tree, which seems to have been massacred by a very angry animal. A boar having a bad day? I'll have to plant a couple more this autumn and protect them better. I can just use the remains of one of the many types of fences that Pampe has defeated.

My greenhouse now has to wear a blanket in the afternoons so it doesn't get too hot inside. I planted four flowering shrubs around it in November, so their roots will consolidate the new terraces, and I'm happy to say they are all accounted for—these two have already doubled in volume, they seem thrilled to be there:

Whereas these two all but disappeared during the winter, the ground just swallowed them; I wasn't too optimistic but they showed up again last month, with timid new leaves :) (The pics are very zoomed in, the resurrected shrubs are about the size of my fist but I'm proud of them)

Also I found wild redcurrants by the stream last year and I snapped a few small branches and just stuck them in a pot without really believing it would work. Internet said it would work but it seemed impossible. I left the pot outside all winter, never watering it or taking care of it in any way, with these four bare sticks that I sometimes looked at dubiously. It worked!!! They have leaves now! I made new redcurrant plants by sticking branches in dirt, it feels magical. They're my favourite berries too...

(My project for next autumn will be to propagate elderberry cuttings alongside the fence.) And speaking of berries, I got to eat my first aquaponic-grown strawberry today, it was delicious <3 Congratulations to the 42 fish who are hard at work fertilising the plants in the towers. There are many more strawberries in preparation!

I leave the greenhouse doors open all day when it's sunny so there are pollinators busily flying in and out, doing their job. I tried to relocate a few ladybirds to the strawberry towers to eat aphids but without success, I think they left immediately...

My lettuce and tomato plants are doing great, but the courgette plants got decimated by slugs despite my efforts to repel them. I ended up buying some organic antislug product a friend of my mum's recommended. I started new courgette seeds, and I'll wait until they're bigger to transplant them to slug territory.

The little Mexican orange tree is blossoming, and finally making new leaves (the new ones are yellow) after looking worryingly bald for a while this winter. The blossoms really do smell like orange blossoms! I know it's right there in the name but I'm still like oh look at you you talented orange tree, you got the smell of your flowers right on the first try and everything

Congrats to Mascarille who was looking for the greenhouse entrance in the above pic (she always has to walk around it a few times, she's confused by glass walls) and eventually triumphed over adversity.

Oh and I'm still getting fresh peas, in homeopathic quantities. I found that they grow well in the middle of winter so I'll plant a lot more this autumn when the towers aren't full of strawberries and herbs; for now I've started just eating them raw like little green candy.

Last but not least, Louise Michel the new hen has finally learnt how to climb my homemade stairs that lead to the greenhouse! Look at her showing off her new skill, all casually like this problem hasn't stumped her for weeks:

[hockeyandhrsepwr]

Off the Sea

Charles Leclerc x yachtie reader

p1

CharlesLeclerc

Charlesleclerc Big thanks to RivaYacht for the fun this summer (and yntakestheseas)

View All comments

yntakestheseas Are you thanking me for fun too or thanking them for me?? #Confuzzled 

LandoNorris I mean, you did meet because of them

ArthurLeclerc true dat

yntakestheseas no one asked you gremlins

Charlesleclerc be nice to the children!

Bestie you should be thanking me for convincing her to give you a chance 

yntakestheseas It didn’t take much convincing 

Bestie Babe, i remember differently 

yntakestheseas 🤫, he thinks he has swag. 

Joris Doesn't even give me photo creds

yntakestheseas Thanks for the photos J!! 📸Always happy to have you around

Joris at least someone appreciates me 👍

Charlesleclerc

Charlesleclerc 4 years of bliss. Happy Anniversary mon amour 💕💕

View All comments

yntakestheseas Happy anniversary lover boy 🫶❤️

Fan4 4 Years!?

yntakestheseas we were trying to be private, and it would’ve worked too if it wasn’t for that meddling gossip account!

Charlesleclerc did you just steal a villain speech from Scooby Doo?

yntakestheseas and what if I did?🤨

CarlosSainz55 The two of you are sickeningly cute

yntakestheseas aw, thanks buddy 😘

yntakestheseas

yntakestheseas guys help me to convince Charles that we need this

view All Comments

Charlesleclerc babe stop being ridiculous 

yntakestheseas just imagine how cool we'll look whipping around the port in this bad boy!!

Charlesleclerc who is we? Because it sure as hell won’t be me

PierreGasly I vote yes, but just so I can make fun of him

ScudderiaFerrari Its a yes from us!

Fan847 omg please! 

yntakestheseas

yntakestheseas Monaco nights with Bestie

View All comments

Bestie never a dull moment with you!!

yntakestheseas you know you love it 

LandoNorris next time don't drag me out with you 

Bestie you begged to be invited

CharlesLeclerc God my girl is a stunner 😍

yntakestheseas she is isn’t she?

PierreGasly did you seriously just compliment yourself?

Yntakestheseas if you’ve got it flaunt it. And says you mr photo dump

yntakestheseas

yntakestheseas Cheers to the best crew ever, I’m gonna miss you guys

View All comments

Stew2 best boss ever

yntakestheseas Aw, I love you sm!!

BoatCapJoe sure I can’t convince you to come back?

yntakestheseas not this time Joe!! Its been amazing working with you over the last 3 years though

BoatCapJoe We’ll miss you but you’re moving on to better things!!

Deck37 Will miss working & nights out with you!

yntakestheseas ill miss you too!! We’ll catch up next time you’re around

User74 what do you do for the winter when yachting? I’m interested in the industry!

yntakestheseas  a lot of yachties go and do the Caribbean season which starts around November, do other seasonal jobs like skiing or go home until the following April. I personally stick around Europe (there is still work) and usually end up doing couple of trips to Dubai or the Seychelles, it really just depends on who you work for! But good luck! Its a great job to have

yntakestheseas

yntakestheseas yacht girl summer

View All comments

PierreGasly isn’t every summer technically that for you?

yntakestheseas yes but no. 

Bestie girlie is thriving

yntakestheseas its a hard life. Although the service is a bit shit

ArthurLeclerc thats rude

yntakestheseas you dropped a whole bottle of champagne on me! And a cup of coffee

ArthurLeclerc THAT WASNT ME!!

yntakestheseas well it wasn’t a ghost

CharlesLeclerc Sure it wasn’t ArthurLeclerc 

F1fan so she’s just using Charles for his money then?

Fan23 let her live, she clearly has worked hard

yntakestheseas actually babe, I had a week off because the boat I work on needed some repairs which is why I decided to join my boyfriend on holiday if thats okay with you? 

Ferrari23 ooh, get them queen

twitter

F1gossip

The New F1 season is getting underway as drivers head to Bahrain. The question on everyone mind, will we get a Y/N sighting in the paddock this year? Since her relationship with the Ferrari driver was exposed this past summer, can we expect our favourite stewardess to make an appearance & support her boyfriend?

F1 Gossip

Well folks, we're into May now and no y/n sightings. is there trouble in paradise for the fan favourite couple?

Fan56 dude they were private for nearly 4 years. just because she hasn't been spotted doesn't mean they've broken up.

f1user omg just let her exist in peace!! she's probably working

yntakestheseas

yntakestheseas This'll be the first summer since I started yachting at 18 that I'm not on a boat, but 9 years later it’s time for a new adventure with my favourite person by my side 🫶

View All comments

Charlesleclerc no one I’d rather do this with mon amour

Ferrarifan84 Oh my god what!!!

Bestie Mama mode!!! Can't wait to meet the little one

yntakestheseas They can't wait to meet favourite auntie!!

Aurthurleclerc Favourite uncle loading!

Lorenzotl sure 

PierreGasly dibs on godfather!

Carlossainz55 I don’t think so mate

CharlesLeclerc it’s neither of you 

SebastianVettel Congratulations! You’re going to be amazing parents 

yntakestheseas Thank you Seb!! 

LandoNorris Can I babysit!!

yntakestheseas absolutely not

LewisHamilton Can I?

yntakestheseas Absolutely, as long as Roscoe comes to visit

LandoNorris 😮

Fan565 dad Charles era!!!!

F1gossip holy crap

Estebanocon Congrats!!!

yntakestheseas Merci Estie<3

ScudderiaFerrari New driver to sign!! Congratulations guys

Pascale_leclerc grateful he found you & can’t wait to welcome them into the world

yntakestheseas Love you Pascale!! Youre going to be the best grandma to little bean

Ferrarifan not what I expected but a slay nevertheless 

xxx

[petrichor-idyllic]

Heyyy! How are you doing? Can you do a story where the female reader accidentally turns Minho on? Thank you

I'm doing good thank you for asking, and of course I can :))

Back on my Minho grind, lmao. Idk why I struggled with this one so much, but I must've rewritten it like seven times, bro.

INAPPROPRIATE WORKPLACE BEHAVIOUR

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Reader is a Runner. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas. You and Minho have always had a tense relationship, but when you guys work in the Map room together, you start to wonder if there's something else. Especially when you get a new kind of reaction out of the Keeper. Kinda enemies to lovers if you squint a bit.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, spice and suggestive content, dumb teenagers and dumber teenage hormones

"Bro, I'm telling you, there's nothing new."

You hate nights like this. It consists of you and the other Runners meeting up and spending hours looking and comparing maps. Once a week.

Every week.

For as long as you've been there. Well, since you became a Runner at least.

And you've been there long enough for it to not be that big of a deal if another girl were to show up.

But tonight is different. It also happens to be Bonfire night. It happens occasionally that Greenie day and the meetings fall on the same day. Most of the Runners left early to go celebrate.

And you did, too, a couple of times. Joining in on the celebrations and congratulating whatever poor Greenie on losing to Gally in the ring.

But you felt bad, so you started staying.

Minho always stayed. It didn't matter what was going on outside; the boy had a job to do, and God dammit, he's going to get it done.

You don't know why you felt bad- or even why you feel bad now. It's not like Minho has ever actually been nice to you. He doesn't take you as seriously as the other Runners and it's not uncommon for him to blatantly ignore you.

Which is shit because the Keeper makes for some great eye-candy.

"I don't care," Minho huffs as you sit with your legs on the table, leaning your chair back, shuffling through numerous sheets of paper. "If you wanna leave, then leave."

"Dude, we've been doing this for literally hours." You try to reason with him but it's not going well.

Minho has been worse as of late. With the exploration of the outer sections coming to a close and the sinking realisation that there isn't actually an exit to the Maze- his bitterness is becoming exponential.

"You can leave." He simply repeats.

You don't understand Minho's problem with you.

In reality, Minho doesn't have a problem with you. All of his extra criticisms and harsh nature comes from a place he doesn't quite understand. You're the only girl in the Glade, and even if everyone else got used to you, he never did. He's had a thing for you ever since he saw you. How could he not?

Which is bad.

Because it's distracting.

So, you can imagine his dismay when Alby suggested you be a Runner.

You pout, letting your feet hit the floor and walking over to Minho. You lean in front of him and across the table, having to stretch further to try and grab more papers that are scattered across the table.

Obviously, this was an incredibly innocent action. You were literally just trying to do more work, but Minho's entire body freezes.

His eyes flicker to your ass as you bend over against the poor wooden structure. It doesn't help that you're still wearing your tight running clothes that leave very little to the imagination. The fabric clings to your ass, and Minho suddenly feels like a complete creep. You mumble something to yourself when you can't reach, but your tone and the lack of coherency just makes Minho's breath catch in his throat.

Ah fuck.

You stand back up, tilting your head slightly as you try to understand whatever pattern Minho swears there is.

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. The problem here is that Minho is just as sexually repressed as every other boy in the Glade, but his one-track-mind and work ethic makes it seem like he isn't.

But he is. Boy, he is.

You say something. He doesn't even acknowledge it as he just blankly stares into space, questioning his existence for a second and silently praying that he can keep himself from being... physically affected.

"Minho?"

"Hm?" He looks at you, concern written on your face. Suddenly, he crosses his wrists, dropping them to his crotch. You obviously were not going to look, but as his pencil scatters to the floor and you watch him visibly cringe, your eyes flicker down and then back up. "You good?"

"Mhm."

"You sure? You ignored me, and now you're acting kinda weird."

"No, I didn't. I mean, I didn't ignore you, I was just thinking, okay?" Okay, so he's panicking. He doesn't really want to get caught because that's just going to make things incredibly awkward. He's literally your boss, and with the way he treats you, there's no way you like him back.

"What did I say then?" You cross your arms, looking down at him. He's acting super weird all of a sudden. He seems almost flustered and embarrassed, and with his hands covering up his dignity; you have your suspicions. It's not like it's the first time here you've accidentally given someone a boner. And it's not like it's hard to tell.

If you catch some of the boys on a bad day then they'll get hard if you so much as look in their general direction. But Minho?

Minho?

Always calm, always collected, always in control, Minho?

It's actually kind of entertaining watching Minho's confidence slip away. He's so cocky and self-assured all the time, and you've, what? Leant over a table? And he's lost all capability? Incredible.

You do admire Minho. For many reasons, mostly including his job- but also his self-control. The boy is athletic and confident and bold, all traits that you're attracted to and have been ignoring. But this is now a form of amusement, especially after being stuck in here for hours.

"You don't know, do you?" You ask after an embarrassingly long pause.

"Uh, yeah, no. I don't know what you said. Sorry." He adds the 'sorry' after you raise your eyebrows at him, and it is very clearly reluctant.

"Sorry you didn't hear me or sorry you were staring at my ass?" You cross your arms as you turn to sit on the edge of the table. Your expression is testing as Minho drops his head forward, hiding his face in his hands.

"I, uh, I mean- shit," he grumbles.

"Wow, okay," you scoff, "I was joking, but I guess you really were just staring at my ass."

"I didn't mean- I couldn't help it, alright?"

"That's bullshit, we both know you are beyond fully capable of controlling yourself," Minho suddenly feels like he's getting lectured. But he's your boss, and he really doesn't know how to feel about the sudden shift in relationship dynamics.

"Yeah," he sighs, "you're right, but you- you're just-" You stand up straight, stepping towards him with fake understanding. He shuffles uncomfortably as you stand in next to him, enjoying the newfound power. "You're hot, dude, what am supposed to do?" He sighs, giving into defeat since there's no good way for him to get out of this.

Minho's forward nature shines through, and the compliment actually takes you by surprise. "You think I'm hot?"

"Everyone here thinks you're hot."

"That's not what I asked."

"Yeah," he basically spits out, "I think you're hot. But I also think you're one of the best Runners I've got, and I'm your Keeper, so..."

"Wait, have you been being a dick to me because you're attracted to me?" Minho's guilty expression says it all. "Holy shuck. You have!"

"Alright, alright- slim it," he warns.

"How many times have you criticised me because you actually wanted me?" You lean further forward, one arm on the table, kind of trapping him.

"Listen, don't start-"

"Or the amount of times you've ignored me because I looked too good?"

"Hey!" Minho snaps, even his ears are burning now, "Quit it, alright? I get it. If you're just gonna be a slinthead about it, then go. I don't have time for this klunk. And you might not like me, but I was always respectful and gave you the same workload as everyone else. I can't help being attracted to you, (Y/N)."

His words sound suddenly sincere, like he's been dealing with this on his own for a while now.

"I.." You start, but your words get trapped in your throat, "I never said I didn't like you." You avoid his gaze as you kind of stand to the side of him. There's a scratching scound as he turns the wobbly chair towards you, his attention now peaked at your sudden bashful tone.

"So you like me?"

"I didn't say that, either, just... you're a good-looking guy, Minho. I'm not mad at you 'cause that'd make me a hypocrite." Minho's hands graze your hips, sparking a flame in you but making you flinch. So, he immediately moves away again.

"You think I'm good-looking?" Minho definitely does not need the ego boost, but then again, neither did you.

"Shut up, okay, you're being honest, I'm being honest. It's not a big deal."

"Okay," he holds his hands up, feigning innocence, "guess we're just two attractive people sitting in a room together then, huh?"

You scoff, shaking your head, "No, we're two people who are attracted to each other sitting in a room together. There's a difference." You meet his eyes, and the tension suddenly feels very thick.

This time, Minho puts his hands on your waist with more certainty, and you move closer, swinging your leg over his, straddling him. Suddenly, it doesn't matter that Minho is your boss, or that this could make things awkward working. You just want to feel good, and Minho's flustered confession is making you feel pretty decent all on its own.

"Bold, hm?" Minho mutters, your noses brush, and your foreheads press together. You can feel his breath on your lips, and you never expected this to happen when you came to work during the Bonfire.

"Learnt from the best," you almost speak into him, earning a chuckle. "Is that okay?"

"Mhm," he leans in, finally forcing months of frustration into you as your lips connect. His grip on you tightens and it barely takes anything for Minho to be hardening under you again. Your mouths move in unison, his tongue brushing against your lower lip.

You slip your tongue under his, making him hum as you buck your hips against his. Your hands come to the back of his neck and into his hair, taking the opportunity to ruin his permanently perfect hair style.

He pulls away, panting slightly, "Wait, what does this mean?" He seems anxious, but he's still trying to move under you. You've never seen him like this before, and deep down, you know all you want is to see it again.

"It means I want to fuck you." His body physically reacts to your boldness, almost whimpering under your touch.

"Yeah, alright, I'll take it," you're back on each other in seconds. Having a friends-with-benefits situation with your boss is probably not the best idea, but damn, is it hot.

Friction starts to pick up fast. His hands are under your shirt, papers are flying everywhere as you use the table to try and stabilise yourself and a string of unholy gasping and faint moans is escaping the private place.

That's until there's a cracking sound. Both you and Minho fall in a heap on the floor as the shitty chair breaks, one of the legs snapping off and sending you plummeting. You land next to each other.

"Gally's klunky shuckin' furniture," Minho complains.

And you just laugh.

Not going to lie, lads, this was, for some reason, a complete struggle. Idk why this one was so hard and took me so long, but here it is, and I don't even think it's good lmao. Definitely not my best work, but I'm trying my best.

I hope yall kinda almost enjoyed it :)

[pinehutch]

Okay so my Thing about Dragon Age is this:

Ten years ago, I was in constant extreme pain as I worked my way towards a rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis. I had spent the previous year working 12-18 hour days most days, between an unsustainable volunteer job and my daytime career. Sometime that fall, I started noticing that my hands were locking into fists while I slept, and that the fatigue was never getting better, and that walking was really hard, more days than not.

I tried to work through it, that first awful year. I mostly did, too. I had weeks when I couldn't walk unassisted, and months where I was sick all the time because we were trying different meds. I called the rheumatologist in tears more than once, feeling hopeless and like a failure because I couldn't tolerate some of the easier drugs. And in between it all, I worked.

On the days that I couldn't work, and if my hands would let me, I played Dragon Age.

I'm stubborn, and I don't usually watch or read or play things that other people recommend until the time feels right. Spring 2014, I needed something that would be immersive enough that it could distract me from my body but that wouldn't require too much complex problem solving. I needed gaming, and some very trusted people had recommended Dragon Age to me before, so I started Origins in March and by July I had played through Origins and DA2 and all the DLC I could get. Inquisition came out that fall, and I was hooked.

(It also was one of the first ways that I learned to distinguish between healthy pain and warning sign pain: I learned to put the controller down before my hands would be so irritated I couldn't use them at all the next day.)

So there I was, having the worst year of my life (at that point), and I got to fill up my brain with lore and distractions and become a hobbyist expert in the historiography and folklore and religion and politics of something that was entirely made up. I could invest, mentally and emotionally, but I didn't have to fix anything real, including my own unfixable problem. I just had to learn, and to play.

Dragon Age brought me into video games for grown-ups, and it brought me back to fiction writing. The first short story I had written since high school was DA fic. I came back to writing poetry, the love of my life, a couple of years later.

My life doesn't look that different from the outside vs what it was 10 years ago. I'm working out whether or not I'm okay with that; making big changes in your life is hard when you're chronically ill and have adhd and you work a complicated job with a lot of responsibility, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try. I had expected that my general weariness would stretch over into a kind of Dragon Apathy - that there would be news and I'd say 'oh, nice,' and then go back to work and the other little agonies.

Instead, I'm delighted? Surprised? Fond? Something I loved and that I needed during a really difficult time is here, again, while I'm anticipating another sea change. The thing that brought me some happiness, some wonder, and some escape can do it still, maybe.

Anyway. I collect my favourite DA stuff at @free-smarcher. I always roll a rogue on my first playthrough. (In real life I'm a giant brain on a giant, clumsy body; my fantasy is being able to go undetected.) I love Varric Tethras because he's a highly-accomplished fuckup with too many responsibilities and because he's bad at his personal life.

When Veilguard comes out I will almost certainly, at least once, play it until my hands seize.

[bird-inacage]

Only Friends: Episode 8 Preview (Ray & Mew's Villain Uprising?)

So I think we can all safely say that last week was Mew's villain origin story and he makes it pretty crystal clear this episode that he intends to embrace this new era.

Now I've also heard (as may some of you) in interviews with the cast that Ray is supposedly the worst. That's quite the claim based on what has happened thus far. But I did get a sense of foreboding at the end of this episode, along with next week's preview that this may be where Ray's character begins to cause some fallout.

I guess Boston and Top have 'had their turn' being the leading villains, and now it's time for those roles to shift.

Ray's 'Bad Influence' & Mew's Enabling

Top comments on the fact that Mew is allowing Ray's bad habits to lead him astray. This isn't really surprising as Mew is hell bent on a self-destructive rebrand at the moment. Due to the betrayal of both his friend and boyfriend, he's sick of being the innocent, pure, and sensible one. It's his 'virginity' that he believes made him the target of this sick joke. So now he's taking a page from Ray's book and embracing his wild child.

The problem is Mew used to be the defacto caretaker for Ray in their group, (and was doing a half-committal job but at least someone was). Now that we have Mew going off the rails too, Ray is far from the right person to keep Mew in check (as well as himself). One, because he's worse at controlling himself, and second, he's willing to do anything that he thinks will make Mew happy. Ray just doesn't have it in him to do what's right or best for Mew if that requires being a voice of tough love.

So now these two are seemingly dating, they're going to exacerbate each other's worst qualities. This is why some couplings just don't work. Friendship fine, but romantically this sounds like a mess.

Ray's Desire for Ownership

Ray finally has what he wants - something he's wanted for so long, and it seems to have all gone to his head. The thrill of it.

After witnessing Ray and Mew getting very close and personal at the end of Episode 7, Sand is understandably tired of being 'used'. He made it very clear previously that he wants Ray to consider his feelings by not treating him as expendable and throwing him aside whenever a shinier toy takes his fancy.

So at the beginning of the preview, Sand behaves coldly towards Ray, perhaps in an attempt to start establishing distance. 'This is the end of whatever 'will-we-won't-we' nonsense we were skirting around with. You're now taken. There's no need for us to continue as we were'.

But lo and behold, when Sand tries to hook up with someone else, Ray's not having it. This is just a tame version of Ray's jealousy response. Even though Ray doesn't want Sand right now, he doesn't want anyone else to have him either. Which is ridiculously selfish and unreasonable.

This is why I'm even more keen on the idea of Sand's ex returning now. Ray needs a very healthy dose of reality when it comes to taking Sand for granted. He's not going to realise that until it comes into serious threat. The following line from this episode alluded that for me. Ray's going to regret this later on.

[6emo6zombie6]

HII OMG THANK YOU FOR ANSWERING MY OTHER REQUEST, THE STORY WAS SOO GOOD LIKE AHHH!! <333

not tryna make you feel overwhelmed or anything of the sort, but I was wondering if I could request a fem! reader who used to be bubbly, friendly, and just a fun person to be around before she started to grow distant from Dutch, Arthur, and John and became fond of someone else. She and this new person would be hanging around each other constantly around camp, hunting together, shopping together, etc. Which caused them to start becoming jealous?

this doesn't have to be written in a story, if you want you can write this in head cannon format and I'll still eat it up <3. thank you so much

Hi! I'm sorry for the delay on this one, I had some other stuff going on. The prompt was a little bit of a challenge for me, so i hope this isn't too bad.

Jealousy headcanons ~ John, Arthur, Dutch ~

John:

Initially didn’t think anything of you growing more distant. He still talked to you and went on as usual, even if you showed up to him less.

Started coming to you once you weren’t the one showing up to talk to him.

His time for you got less and less as he was constantly busy doing chores and jobs.

It took him a little while to figure out that your attention had shifted completely to the gang's newest member, he wasn’t surprised. A lady such as you was bound to fall for a handsome, charismatic young man.

He still thought little of it. Who you were around was your decision, not his.

Only got hurt once he tried to talk to you about it. He’d gotten used to initiating most of the conversations in your friendship, but this time you flat-out brushed him off. It was like this new gang member had completely claimed you as his.

“Oh, sorry I have to go help him,” You muttered straight-faced, leaving John mid-conversation.

John just stood there, confused and hurt. Of course, he didn’t show his hurt, he never did, he was too tough to get all pent up over this.

He, however, would still be thinking about this all night. He hated seeing you with this new guy, suddenly he was taking you out and teaching you to shoot. John had unconsciously taken that as his task.

From that point on he started ignoring you completely. No longer did he greet you when you walked past him, he never got you coffee in the morning, and he stopped helping you with your guns.

John’s the type of man to hold a grudge and take it to his grave. He didn’t expect you to come back.

He didn’t try too hard to ignore you, he sometimes even glared at you when you walked past. He wanted to be close again like you were before, but you didn’t see the urgency in socializing with him.

He snapped one time when you bumped into him, and it scared you. His feelings had been bottled up for so long and you hadn’t noticed once or even asked him how he was doing.

Arthur:

He had an opinion on your new relationship, for sure. He knew something was off about this new kid the day Dutch brought him to camp.

Despite his doubts, he managed to keep an open mind. You seemed happy with this guy, at least. That’s what he was most worried about.

He managed to convince himself that your new friend was perfectly sane. He seemed to take good care of you, even if Arthur was still clinging to how that was his task previously.

Yeah, he missed taking care of you. He never even thought of how much he took that task upon himself, it seemed like instinct.

Your absence made him think—a lot. He was used to keeping his thoughts to himself and just letting them simmer down, but this was different. He was worried about you, yet he had no clue how to tell you how he felt.

He avoided you for a while, mostly to keep his thoughts quiet. Of course, it was hard to avoid each other in a camp as small as yours, so he brought it upon himself to be the errand boy for a couple of weeks.

The two of you had a slight clash at a party on campgrounds. Arthur, you, and the rest of the camp were all wasted and having a good time. Arthur managed to keep his thoughts to himself as he usually did, but when he saw you hanging with him again, something snapped.

“Excuse me,” He murmured, still polite despite the amount of whiskey in his system as he grabbed your arm and practically pried you away from your fling. He pulled you along behind the nearest tree, making sure nobody could hear you—and then it started. For once in his life he conveyed his thoughts through words, even if it was with the help of liquor. He told you exactly how he felt, and how your absence had affected him. His words made you realize, making you snap out of your love-drunk state.

Dutch:

He was very optimistic about the new member he had rescued from a life of begging on the street. He knew the two of you would get along, seeing as you had always been a very social and bubbly person.

As Dutch had predicted, the two of you became close super quickly. You seemed to have an interest in all the same things and hobbies. He saw no harm in your new-found friendship, and he didn’t even question anything once the two of you started getting closer than just that.

Though, once you started showing up less, he immediately got worried, and a little defensive over you. He would pull you away from him whenever he felt like you were together too much.

You knew no other behavior from Dutch, he would even pull you away from Arthur sometimes when he felt the two of you were doing too little work, so you went along with his requests as usual.

He started questioning you more and more as time went on, he’d have to pry you apart from your love more often since the two of you seemed to be together every moment you got. He even sent Micah along on a heist with the new member, just to get him out of the camp for once.

He would never admit it, but he was jealous, you were all buddy-buddy with him before this. If Arthur wasn’t deemed his pet, you definitely would have.

“I need you to spend more time doing chores, and less time getting all cozy with that boy.” He confronted you when you were alone for once. “I haven’t seen you talking to Arthur anymore—or Mary-Beth. What has gotten into you?”

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you once Dutch told you off for our distant behavior. You knew he was right, but you’d been avoiding his questions for weeks.

You agreed to see him less to focus more on chores and getting back to socializing with other gang members, even Dutch got his daily dose of attention from you.

Maybe his constant bickering was a tad manipulative, but he knew it was for the better.

[k1ttef1a]

I have plenty of requests for yuri voice, there’s not enough fics or headcanons, but! I hope you can change that! Can I have a Charlie fic where there’s top cas? Literally any top reader-

1) Can I have a Charlie fic where there’s top!fem! cas? Smut pls- and like the plot being he’s just pent up from stress and just needs a release-

2) Alphonse and Seth, seth still thinks he isn’t worthy of any love from them so sugurboo and Alphonse show him that is worth it? Switch!Alphonse, sub Seth, and dom top female sugarboo?

3)fin fluff/ angst(bc we need both sometimes) that who will not be named shows up at his shop, belittles him and even goes to hit him- and so sunflower basically steps in and helps

And so that’s it, please and thank you

Helping Out |Charlie

pairing: Yuurivoice Charlie x fem! reader

warnings: smut, blowjob, dom? reader, sub Charlie

summary: Pete has been working Charlie to the bone, which means Charlie doesn't have a lot of time to relax so you decide to be a sweet girlfriend and help destress.

a/n: I've been having a bad case of writers block so this is kind of shitty.

Charlie had to work overtime at Pete's because today they just so happened to be SEVERELY understaffed, unfortunately for him this wasn't the first time this week he had to work overtime so he was absolutely exhausted.

You could tell by the look in his eyes every time he came home that he was tired and was extremely stressed out, making you feel sorry for your poor boyfriend.

You were currently sitting on your bed, which you shared with Charlie, waiting for him to come home. As you waited for him to come home you checked the clock on the night stand. It was already 11:30?! You started to worry that he'd never come home. (You were being dramatic but still, you wondered if he'd come home soon or at least come home today).

As you thought about the whereabouts of your boyfriend you heard the front door open then close. Charlie walked into your guy's shared bedroom looking even more tired than yesterday, which made you quite upset. He shouldn't have to stay over time and get paid minimum wage.

"How was work today Chuck?" You asked in a sweet and soft tone, not wanting to be too loud since he had to deal with bitchy customers loud and obnoxious voices all day. "It was fine, Pete was just up my ass all day, you know the usual." He said as he kicked off his shoes and took off his black zip up sweater vest.

"I'm sorry." You replied, feeling sorry for him, having to deal with his boss. "You have nothing to be sorry for Cas, plus it's bringing in money I guess." He said, mumbling the last bit of his sentence. "I mean yeah but you should enjoy work, not come home feeling like shit." You said. It wasn't okay that he was coming back home feeling like crap then going to bed, waking up, going back to work, and restarting the cycle all over again.

"Well there's nothing I can really do." That was true, there was nothing he could really do. The jobs were all minimum wage and kinda shady, and the ones that weren't, you needed a really good resume, which he didn't really have considering the fact that he's quite literally worked for shady people and done shady things, and working for Pete of course.

While Charlie was in the shower washing off all the sweat and grime from that day, you tried to figure out a way to relax your boyfriend. He was off tomorrow, maybe you could just make the day all about him since he's been having bad days for the past week. Good cuddles, breakfast, maybe even take him shopping for some new clothes. You were snapped out of your thoughts when Charlie came out of the bathroom drying off his hair by shaking it like a dog, wearing black and red plaid pajama pants.

He plopped himself on the left side of you, pushing his head back against the pillow and sighing heavily. You got up and decided you'd start his special treatment tonight.

You laid yourself on Charlie's stomach, making him look at you, your faces a couple inches away from each other. "Chuck, can I ask you something?" You said. "Uh sure? What is it?" He said in response, his face slightly flushed from how close you were to his crotch, and from the shower. "Can I.. take care of you tonight?" You asked shyly. This wasn't the first time you guys have had sex but it was a bit more awkward due to the fact that he looked like he was about to pass out at any moment. "You really don't have to Cas, I won't be able to really give you anything back because I feel I'm about to pass the fuck ou-" Before he could finish his sentence you covered his mouth with your hand. "You don't have to give me anything back I just..wanna take care of you tonight." You said, looking at him compassionately. You wanted tonight to be about him and him only.

"I don't want anything in return, I can tell you've been really stressed out and I want to help you relax." You say as you take your hand off his mouth, waiting for a response. He sighs. "Okay." He knew you were pretty stubborn so it would be pretty much impossible for him to disagree with not giving you anything back in return.

You slid the rest of your body down his stomach to in between his legs. You grabbed the front of his pants and his boxers and pulled them down, his cock springing out.

You look at him to see his reaction but he's just looking at you with wide eyes, his face flushed even more than before. You look back down to his cock and give it a small kiss before slowly and carefully taking it all in your mouth, making him lean back into the pillow and moan.

You started to slowly suck him off, not wanting him to cum too fast. "C-cas can I put my hands in your hair please?" He asked. "Mhm." Is all you could say, not wanting to stop.

You started to pick up the pace, making him moan louder. Now the only thing you could hear was Charlie's moans and whimpers and the sound of you sucking him.

You could tell Charlie was close by the way he was bucking his hips slowly into your mouth and the way he was intertwining pieces of your hair into his fingers. "Fuck C-Cas I'm c-close~" You started sucking him off faster and faster, drool trickling down from your mouth to your chin. Charlie was a panting mess, begging and pleading to cum in your mouth, to which you let him.

Strings of his cum shooting to the back of your throat, while you groaned, tears streaming down your face from having to keep your jaw open for so long. You took his cock out of your mouth, as you whipped your lips that were covered in your saliva and a bit of the cum that managed to escape your mouth.

As you both tried catching your breath he pulled up his pants and brought you up to his chest, wiping away the tears that were still running down your cheeks. "S-sorry Cas, was I too rough? " He said, breathing heavily still trying to catch his breath. "N-no, no, not at all." You said sounding like you were about to fall asleep at any second.

"Thank you Casper, you really know how to relax me when I need it." He said in a sleepy voice before yawning and looking down at you to see you already more than half asleep.

"You're...wel..come." You said before fully falling asleep. Charlie then smirked softly and kissed your forehead, grabbing the blanket and covering the both of you.

"Good night Cas." He said before closing his eyes and falling into a deep sleep.

☆ this was requested by @kenzib23! It's been about a month since I've posted a fanfic so here you go (I've been extremely busy and exhausted :')) my requests are open!

[longbobmckenzie]

THTH2 Episodes 1-3 Thoughts!

Eeeek it's THTH2 (Too Hot to Handle the game) time!! Last season fizzled out halfway through but based on the first few episodes of season 2, I've got hopes that this one will be better!

First of all, it's 15 episodes as opposed to 10 - there's room for development (and more bombshells/dumpings!)

There's more customization! I feel like it's improved, although others have said they had a harder time with it. I'm not a huge fan of the hairstyles and outfits we've been given so far, but we'll get more

In the initial episodes, there are 5 friends and only 4 LIs - that might be a little disappointing at first (especially since the friends are all hot - URGH I want Santiago!!), but this actually fixes some of the problems with the first season

More non-romanceable characters is a good thing because it means there will be more storylines besides MC/LI and Jada/Justin/Carter

A lot of us started to hate Jada after a while because she kept popping up and we were forced to be friends with her. Having more friends is a good thing because we'll be able to talk to more people instead of just one person. I'm hoping there will be some branching involved where some scenes are dependent on who your highest relationship is with, but we'll see!

Less LIs is fine for the reasons above - sure there's less choice up front, but with next to no branching in S1, every route was the same, and there were only 3 couples at the end. It didn't make sense. Plus...

We're already getting at least one bombshell next week! It's highly likely they'll be LI(s), and no doubt there will be more people incoming

In Season 1, all the LIs had hard-ons for MC even when MC didn't show them any interest - so far that doesn't seem to be the case, and I love that. It was weird that 9 people were obsessed with us, honestly. This time, our choices matter more

They're already setting up a love triangle! It makes so much more sense to have a LT early on when everyone's new rather than force it with a bombshell we don't even like midway through the season

The characters so far seem to have more personality traits than just whatever their jobs/interests are. Hopefully I'm not speaking too soon, and there is definitely still some of that, but I feel like I've already had deeper chats with them. And they ask about us too, and we can define a bit more of a personality for ourselves

More under the cut...

I picked Antoine so far (love a Canadian hockey player!!). He's basically an upgraded (yes, I said it) version of Theo (the art style is slightly improved - the smiles aren't as creepy this time!). I wasn't a Theo girlie but so far I'm vibing with Antoine

I was a Liam girlie, but Liam 2.0 (Wesley) doesn't have quite the same appeal. He's still hot, but Idk, he's not my Liam

There's a fun Antoine glitch (not sure if any of the other characters have it) where he's fully naked. It's pretty funny

I've already broken a bunch of rules, mwahaha!

The list of achievements this season is interesting 👀 There's an achievement for getting eliminated, which I will definitely be trying to do. And stuff about the others trusting us (probably a way to earn back money)

They still have the "beach hut" confessionals, but I feel like those episodes are shorter, which is great because they could be a drag on replays before, or when you just want to get to the next episode

Santiago is my boy, I'm loving the representation with him. I'm curious if we'll ever get a chance to get our hands on him even without romance, because we do have a flirty vibe and I would absolutely jump at that chance!

Overall, I'm excited to see how this goes! It does seem like they've taken our feedback so far, the initial episodes felt a lot like last season but that's not at all a bad thing - last season started off great, and this one has too. I do think this season has better potential overall and my fingers are crossed that it delivers

[astercontrol]

In regard to that previous reblog-- and other notes in that thread discussing just how much hearing aids actually can or can't do, and vision problems that can't be corrected to 20/20, and other not-correctable disabilities--

...my thoughts are running off now into the fuzzy areas, which are places I... really tend to get uncomfortable.

Especially now, because I'm currently in a fuzzy place myself -- a state of health where I do not know if my impairments can be fully corrected -- and whether or not they can? may depend a lot on things like, will I find a doctor good enough to know what's going on? and, how bad will this new job be for my body?

and it stresses me out a lot to think about how I can't know the answers to any of that right now-- and that's about all I can handle, even without the added stress of trying to determine whether this makes me "legitimately" physically disabled.

Eyesight is only one small part of it. My main worry right now is that I have hardly any sensation or muscle control in my right calf and foot. With good shoes I can walk, without cane or crutches-- pretty far before my limp becomes noticeable-- but it does.

My legs are visibly different sizes, with my left calf taking on all the muscle, while my right is atrophying. And my foot "drops," noticeably, the outer side dragging to the point that I had to learn how to avoid tripping on my own foot. The PT says I'll likely need an orthotic brace called AFO to support it.

He doesn't know the cause. I won't know the cause until at the very least a couple weeks from now, when I get to see the spine specialist who'll look for causes further up in my muscular and nervous system.

I have a new job. It's gonna be mostly at a desk, but since this problem started while I was working a desk job, I wonder if sedentary life makes it worse. I haven't ever been able to drive (that was a different neurological issue in my teens) so I have to walk to work. If I stop being able to walk that far, I won't be able to keep doing this job. But for now I can. For now, for that distance, my walking almost passes as normal.

I don't know how close to normal that orthotic brace will get me. Or whether the exercises the PT is having me do, or anything the spine specialist can do, will restore any of that sensation or muscle. I don't know if there's any kind of correction that's gonna get my leg back into a range comparable to eyes that see 20/20.

And the eyesight part, at the moment, feels pretty much the same to me.

I just got new glasses. They help a lot, but they don't fix my problem focusing on close-up things-- I keep having to take them off and back on when reading, but my eye doctor said I didn't need bifocals, and none of the available prescriptions of reading glasses help either, and it seems to be getting steadily worse.

And I don't know if this is all just something I can get back up to 20/20 by finding a better eye doctor, or by getting better about my reading and screen use habits, or if it's something more serious that is never gonna get better.

And I have no idea if all the data entry im going to do at my new job is going to exacerbate it, or maybe it's just going to get worse for whatever other reason, until I can't get any glasses that'll make it good enough to do a job like that?

I don't know.

I don't want to call my eye problem, or my leg problem, a disability on the level of needing hearing aids or crutches. Because I want to think it can be fixed to the point I can forget about it.

But is "not wanting" a good enough reason to say this doesn't count as disability? Is it just denial?

Which is why I am kind of regretting even reading that previous post I reblogged. Because where even do you draw that line? And that's just for physical disability. I'm not even getting into my neurodivergence, and all the places that fuzzily shades into what's considered normal.

*sigh*

[ishouldbedoinghw]

You Can't Erase Me

One Piece fanfic, part 10: Calico Jack

Previous parts are in my pinned masterlist.

A woman enslaved by the celestial dragons is found by a man with red hair. Angst and comedy ensues.

A/N: Y'all know the drill. This chapter is the one that inspired this entire story. I was driving and listening to this song when a great idea that I really hope doesn't suck exploded into my head. Also I finally got a new computer since I've been working a couple of jobs this summer before moving back to college.

Also I would like to preface this chapter by saying this has a good bit of dancing described in it. The only experience I have with dancing is country western swing dancing and white person line dancing. It might be bad. Dead dove do not eat.

TW: Bad descriptions of dancing and music, thirsting over a vampire, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, Shanks

The first swig from Maria's bottle was, frankly put, fucking terrible. This was the crap Shanks was always chugging?

As I spluttered, trying my best to hand back the bottle before I dropped it, Maria and her friend were giggling behind polite hands.

"Never had liquor before? Traveling with Red-Hair? And I'd bet money on you being almost ten years older than the two of us."

Almost ten years? How young were these girls? How old was I?

"Listen, I had some health problems, alright? And how old do you think-"

Maria's hands shot up in surrender. "Sorry, didn't mean anything by it, we didn't know."

Her friend, still slightly giggling, took the bottle from me and took a swig herself.

"Look, this stuff is cheap, so it isn't about tasting it, you've gotta just let it be nasty and focus on what it's doing to you." She handed it back to me, her long nails curled around the bottle neck.

It tasted just as nasty the second time, but at least I was prepared for it. I swallowed it quickly, doing my best to keep a straight face.

As Maria took the bottle back to hide it away, her friend started to study me, clicking her tongue occasionally. My face burned a bit at being studied again, and it made me wonder if I really looked as good as I felt.

"Maria, you really don't miss, do you?" She laughed, and started to head back down the hall, seemingly satisfied. "Let the newbie know what her big job is tonight, and have her watch during the first couple of songs, so she at least doesn't go in blind."

"Yeah, yeah," Maria called back, shaking her head. "A control freak, that one."

Fiddling with the lace on my corset, I watched Maria finish adjusting herself in the mirror. After she seemed satisfied, she beckoned me to follow her as she went down the hallway after her friend.

"So- what is it that I have to do, exactly?" I ask, nervously gripping my skirt, trying to adjust to walking in it.

"So, every week we have a night where we do the Calico Jack- one of the older, tougher girls is picked to find someone in the crowd to dance with to a song about running off with a pirate." She stopped to adjust a strap on one of her shoes, and I almost run into her. "I personally don't see the appeal in it, and neither does Delilah, but it always brings in a big crowd of rowdy men who pay plenty money to drink and feed their egos if the girl picks 'em."

"That's why we get a grown woman to do it, too- in case a fight breaks out over who gets picked, the dancer doesn't get hurt." She continues. "We try to stay away from the really wild ones- we had a big ginger muscleheaded prick get upset a while back, his blonde boy-toy or whatever had to drag him out."

My mouth had gone quite dry at this point, though whether it was from the liquor or my nerves I wasn't quite sure. I had to dance with a stranger? Hell, I don't think I'd ever danced before. My plans for tonight were to maybe dance with Benn, and then to just listen to something other than the crew's terrible singing. And yet, here I was, painted as a doll ad about to be strung up like a puppet because of some old woman I didn't even know.

"Do I-?"

"Yes, you have to do it, I'd like to keep my room and my nice-paying job, thank you very much." Maria was trying to sound confident and relaxed, but I could see the sweat starting to bead on her neck and face. "Listen, no one would question it if you just picked Red-Hair, and you'd likely avoid a fight that way too, no one would argue that he's handsome and powerful."

I started to argue about calling Shanks anything other than annoying, but I stopped myself- I couldn't deny she had a point. No one would recognize me as the girl he came with, and he was powerful enough to avoid confrontation with someone else. Shit, she might've just given me an easy way out of this mess. I would just get the one dance over with and-

"Of course, before that dance, you've gotta join the rest of the tavern dancers since we're short one."

Of course.

She shoved me, clearly seeing my face. "Listen, it really isn't as bad as it sounds. For whatever reason, the boss has faith in you. She doesn't just drag random strangers out of the crowd- well, at least not all the time." She said with a laugh.

As we neared the end of the hallway, I was expected to be met with some kind of music, or lights like before. Instead, the dance hall was dark and quiet, with only the light hum of hushed conversation. Maria was gripping my shoulder, and I could see her straining to get a glimpse of something off to our right. I tried to follow her gaze, but all I could get was dim outlines of figures, and the flash of something shiny reflecting the dim light of the hallway.

As Maria's grip tightened, chills shot through my body. A whisper from the right made the room a silent vacuum, and I strained to hear the words.

"Hickory, oak, pine and weed-" A small flame flickered in the distance, lighting up the face of the old woman who'd woken me up. Delilah. Her voice was softer, yet somehow stronger when she was singing. Perhaps it was the lack of grouch. A drum was the only instrument playing, only hitting one note to make a beat.

"Bury my heart underneath these trees-" My body froze, waiting for the adverse reaction I'd had when Emily had been preforming.

"And when a southern wind comes to raise my soul-" She drew out the last note in a slight vibrado, and I found myself wondering how the hell I knew that.

"Spread my spirit like a flock of crows." I saw the flash again, and as I focused, I could make out someone holding a guitar, a sleek, slim version of the one Yassopp owned but couldn't play.

"'Cause I loved ya for too long, I loved ya for too long," Her voice was getting stronger, and louder, the den-den mushi in front of her picking up more sound.

"I loved ya for too long-" She held the last note in a vibrado again, holding it out until she was nearly whispering again. Her voice was admittedly beautiful, if not a bit haunting.

"Old heat of a raging fire, Come and light my eyes Summer's kiss through electric wire- But I'll never die-"

The stage lights all came on at once, showing off just how massive it was. A full band stood to the left of Delilah, while a handful of the girls I'd seen earlier were standing to the right, all with their own den-den mushi. On the same beat, as Delilah shifted to a full belt on the end of "die," the girls burst into operatic backup vocals, and the band started playing at top volume. The drum continued at a slightly faster pace, and the guitar strummed at a slow, steady pace to match it, contrasting the passionate voices of Delilah and her choir.

"Sycamore, ash, moss and loam Wrap your roots all around my bones And when they come for me When they call my name Cast my shadow from a bellow's flame-"

Chills ran up my spine, and my heart seemed to seize in my chest. I panicked, thinking I would pass out again, but my breath remained steady, and my mind clear. What the hell was going on?

"Cause I loved ya for too long I loved ya for too long I loved ya for too long So let the storm come-"

My body trembled, my mouth was dry once again, and the back of my neck was coated in a sheen of sweat. My heart was pounding against my ribs, my eyes watered, and I wanted to scream.

"Old heat of a raging fire Come and light my eyes Summer's kiss through electric wire But I'll never die I will never die You can bury my body but I'll never die-"

It was the best thing I could ever remember experiencing. Like a piece of me I'd been searching for ever since I woke up on that damned ship had finally come back.

I loved music. I've always loved music. I could feel it in the depths of my soul, in every bone in my body.

My entire life, I have always loved music.

The way Delilah ripped through the vocals was a storm tearing through the fields of my mind. Every sound I could make out on that stage rocked me to my core.

Watching Delilah's passion was almost as good as listening to it. Her eyes seemed to be gleaming like fire, and she spit out every word as if she had lived through the song over and over again, like she'd truly meant all of it. I'd believe it if they said she was an immortal deity from her stage presence alone.

Her boots stomping caught my attention as she transitioned to the bridge. All instruments but the drum had stopped playing again, and I could hear the thunder of voices in the crowd join her.

"In the dead of night I'm gonna loose these chains Mmm, I'm gonna run and run and run and run and run I'm gonna run and run and run and run Coming for you again Oh, coming for you again-"

The instrumental that followed blew me away once again. I never knew someone could make the instrument Roux purposefully hid from Yassopp sound so damn beautiful. Leading up to the last run of the chorus, Delilah was screaming her vocals, and a new chill ran through my body.

I need to do that one day.

All I wanted, with my entire being, was to be singing these songs with as much passion as she did, in the hopes I could feel something other than fear, anger, or shame.

As Delilah sang the final chorus, she spread her arms, letting her large coat that had been hanging over her shoulders fall to the ground. She was surprisingly muscular for her age, and-

Holy shit, she didn't have any hands.

Her arms ended at the wrists, and were webbed in a messy array of scars. The crowd screamed at the reveal, whether out of fear or something else, I couldn't quite tell.

Maria started to cheer at my side, startling me. She started shaking my arm and bouncing up and down, still yelling her ass off. I didn't pay much attention to it, distracted by Delilah's performance. It wasn't that her lack of hands was a shock in itself; I'd seen where Shanks had lost his plenty. I simply wondered how in the world she'd slapped me so effectively earlier.

"You ready?" Maria yells in my ear, her voice fuzzy with all the noise.

"Ready for wh-" And she shoved me in the direction of the stage as the room grew dark again. I flailed about and stumbled a bit, before one of the male dancers, a dark-haired, freckled young man, caught my arm.

"Newbie, right? You know the Mull River Shuffle, yeah?" He hooks his arm in mine, pulling me to the opposite side of the now empty dance floor.

"The fucking what-"

"Yeah, Maria said you might not, don't worry, you just gotta follow my lead. You dance some, yeah?"

"No-"

The guitar starts a faster rhythm than before, and the lights flash on again, making my vision spotty. My partner squeezes my arm, catching my attention before he starts moving around the floor with the other dancers in a wide circle. The more we moved, the slower and dizzier I felt we were moving. The steps I took to mirror his were clumsy, and my neck burned in shame at how stupid I likely looked.

"You know, Maria failed to mention she got you drunk as hell." What?

"I'm not-"

"Not even the clutziest of kids are so unsure of where their own damn foot is. You're thinking way too hard, you've gotta trust yourself. The liquor is supposed to take away fear, not grace."

I'm not sure why I giggled, and as we paused to turn and move the opposite direction, my body still felt it was moving around.

"I'm about to spin you towards the middle, don't puke." He was irritated now, and I felt terrible. He hadn't asked for a shitty partner tonight, yet here I was. I just let him sling my body around, and I grew a bit lightheaded at the speed.

"That wasn't half bad, think you can go faster?" The relief that flooded me was almost overwhelming, and I couldn't help but giggle again. I'm not sure why the little phrase had made me so happy.

Trust yourself.

The words rang in my ear as the tempo of the song picked up again, and the group of dancers split down the middle, my partner shoving me gently to line up opposite him.

As everyone stepped toward the middle again to meet their partners, I did the same; although I was half a stride behind them. My partner made up for the time, quickly spinning us around and pushing me in the direction he'd come from.

The more I relaxed, and the more I let myself move and spin and step to the music, the more fun I let myself have. This wasn't exactly what I had in mind when Shanks had made me leave the ship, but I had to admit to myself that I was actually having a great time.

"Told you, just let go." He was smiling at me now, and I couldn't help but excitedly smile back.

"You know, I've never danced as far back as I can remember." I wasn't sure why it felt so good just to talk for the hell of it.

"Yeah, I could kind of tell that when we started."

I giggled again, then had to catch my breath as he spun me around again.

"Yeah, I don't think I've ever had so much fun."

It was his turn to laugh then, before we split into two lines again. He didn't have to push or pull me this time, and I was able to keep up with the pace of the rest of the line.

As the song ended, he pulled me over to Maria, who was still standing off to the side of the stage.

"You've got to stop giving me the drunk ones, man." He elbows Maria in the ribs, and she laughs, shoving him away.

"It looks like she got the hang of it by the end, be grateful she didn't vomit on you or something, Zutsu," she said, reaching over to fix my skirt.

"We've got Rove and Go next, you know that one?" Zutsu asks. "I'm not sure where the hell you came from, but I don't know anyone that doesn't know the Rove."

For some odd reason, I felt I did know the song, like it was some common knowledge that was ridiculous not to remember.

"Maybe? I'm not sure-"

"Good enough, maybe it'll jog your memory when you hear it." He pulled me back to the dance floor, into a line of dancers that snaked through the entire hall. "Listen, I usually take the lead on this one, but we'll stick to the back to keep you comfortable."

And keep me from embarrassing you. I couldn't even bring myself to be upset, Maria made it sound like the quality of performances were held in high regard by everyone here.

The tempo of this song started much faster than the last, the drums kicking in at full volume, followed by a fiddle that was one of the sweetest sounds I'd ever heard.

It was the first line of the song that sent a cold shock down my spine, and made sweat cling to my face.

Why shouldn’t she go she’s only ninety?

Delilah held out the last note of the line, and my skin grew clammy. I knew this song. I was sure I'd known this song almost as long as I had loved music itself. My hand shook in Zutsu's, and he squeezed it, muttering, "Don't puke yet," as he started stomping his feet on beat with the rest of the dancers. As if they had a mind of their own, my feet did the same.

I know the dance. I could remember every movement to the dance Zutsu was about to lead me through. I could hear it in my head, to the rhythm of the song, in counts of four.

Stomp, shuffle, stomp, shuffle-

Scoot back, back, back-

Away from your partner, back to your partner-

Holy shit.

"Look at you, you do know this one." Zutsu says, loosening his grip on my hand.

I wanted to cry, puke, and laugh all at once. I used to dance. I had to have grown up dancing. To my disappointment, I couldn't remember any more dances offhand, but it did little to stifle my excitement.

Every step, every dip, and every spin made my heart feel as it were flying through the sky over the bright ocean, free as a wild bird. I was addicted to the dizziness, the breathlessness, and the feeling of my body moving with the music. This, right here, was something I'd been born to do. I felt it in my soul the same way I'd felt when I heard Delilah sing. My body, mind, and spirit felt at peace, and I felt like I had some kind of purpose other than being the crew's fragile pet.

"Hey-" Zutsu's voice cut through my thoughts. "During the bridge, when the fiddle goes crazy, we don't keep in line, we'll split off and start two-stepping around the audience, try to get them to dance, yeah?"

"Oh- alright, got it," I said quickly. Relief swept through me as I realized I knew exactly what he was talking about. Two-stepping with a partner was one of the most basic skills I'd learned when I was just a kid- how I knew that, I had no idea. I couldn't picture memories so much as feel it, my mind trying to grasp some physical evidence that wasn't there.

Zutsu pulled me to face him, and he kept his back in the direction we traveled as we kept a fast paced two-step. I fell into the rhythm he set easily, and almost wept at how at home it all felt: the fast pace, the grip he had on my hand, and even the burning in my right calf and left hip.

"You had to have been holding out on me before," Zutsu laughed, guiding me in an impromptu spin that had a small part of the audience cheering. "You dance as naturally as you breathe when you know what the hell you're doing."

I giggled back, heart soaring at the compliment. It made me want to try more, to do something other than-

"You wanna try swing dancing some?" He asks, as if he read my mind.

I nodded eagerly, my heart pounding again as I recall the term, knowing exactly what he meant.

He pushed me out and away from him, before pulling me back in. I knew the steps by heart, I could feel them in my feet and fingers as I ducked under his arms and spun behind him, before twisting around as he caged me in his arms. He spun me around as fast as I could twice, before finishing with a dramatic dip, my "hair" nearly touching the floor.

"Please tell me you're sticking around after tonight, you're the first partner I've had that could move so damn fast."

I clicked my tongue, looking up at him with a twinge of disappointment. "I'm honestly sorry, but I'm just passing through with a group of- with a crew," I finished hastily.

He raised a brow. "Red-Haired Pirates, right? I'm pretty sure I saw you come in on the captain's arm."

I grimaced at the notion my disguise hadn't worked as well as I'd hoped. "I- yeah," I muttered weakly, sheepishly looking at the floor.

"Don't sweat the whole Emily thing," he shrugged, and did his best to wipe a few droplets of sweat from his cheek. "I only knew it was you because I've been staring you in the face, and I was close by when they dragged you backstage. No one in the audience will be able to tell." He poked me playfully. "Not even your Calico Jack of the night."

I groaned at the mention of that stupid dance. "Why do I-"

"Please don't get me booted from this place by answering that honestly. I'd hate to say anything untoward about my boss and her- interesting notions."

I decided not to press the issue, and to take comfort in the fact that Shanks was here for me to make an easy pick. I was also itching with curiosity to hear every song of the night, and to see if I could recall any more dances.

I wasn't sure my legs could take another step as the song finally ended. Zutsu made sure I took a long swig of water and sat down for a minute before disappearing backstage, leaving me with a very bouncy and tipsy Maria.

"That was- burp- incredible!" she shouted, throwing an arm around me. "No offense, but I thought it'd all go to shit."

I grimaced, choosing to focus on the compliment. "Yeah, thanks."

"You knowwww- the next dance is allll yours," she giggled, then nearly knocked me over trying to wave at one of her friends.

My mouth went dry. Already? I thought I'd have a couple more dances to get more comfortable, maybe figure out something simple to start the song with.

"Don't even sweat it, baby, you'll do great." She fixes one of the stray curls stuck in the top of my corset. "Plus, you look great, so it won't even matter."

Her reassurance did little to ease the nausea building in my gut.

---

I'll never forget the song that echoed through the room next. It wasn't anything spectacular, like the operatic section of the first performance. It was just a small tradition in a dance hall that would one day outlive me. But one moment in that song changed my life forever.

The Calico Jack song was an old ballad about a young lady running from her abusive marriage to live on the sea after meeting a handsome pirate in a tavern.

Of course, the only thing I knew at the time was that I had walk around at least once in the room, and pick a partner before the first chorus of the song started playing.

"It was a borin' Evenin' Down at the tavern My husband left for sea again And I was sick of waitin'-"

The song started, and I could feel my heart in my throat as I started my walk around the room.

All you have to do is walk once around and then to Shanks.

My steps felt too loud, the room was too big, and I was moving too fast, not really paying attention to who was actually there.

Look up, look up, look up, look up-

I tried to convince the crowd that I was looking, studying for the most eligible one there. I couldn't convince myself into thinking I was giving a good performance, however. My heartbeat grew louder as the audience cheered when I walked by, and I gave a weak smile, trying to look like I knew what the hell I was doing.

"Sick of drinkin' And thinkin' And questioning my measure Then suddenly A breeze came through the door-"

And then I caught a glimpse of him.

The most beautiful man I could ever think up in my head was sitting on the outermost edge of the crowd, sipping a glass of wine. He had a feathered hat that hung low over his face, but it wasn't enough to conceal his eyes- bright gold, with rings of orange, the strangest eyes I'd ever seen. His hair and beard were nearly black, but against his pale skin I could see the slightest tinge of brown. He was all sharp angles; high cheekbones, a sharp jawline and nose, even his facial hair was shaved into neat lines.

"He was smilin' Blindin' The pirate, Jack Rackham He tipped his hat and that was that I was in love with him-"

I would've liked to say that the great golden sword leaning on the table was what I saw next, but I couldn't. His large coat was ornate and expensive-looking; it was also completely open, his torso completely bare, save for a large golden cross hanging from his neck. Damn. That's all I could think- damn. He was, with no other way to put it, absolutely gorgeous.

And the little, nagging, tempting thought that I both curse and thank God for to this day wouldn't hush in my head. Ask him to dance.

And I wanted to. So, so, badly did I want to walk right up with all the confidence in the world and ask him to dance with me. It felt as if my entire body was burning at the prospect of even looking at him again.

"Oi, over here, Spooky!" Shanks was in front of me now, grinning and waving like the idiot he was. I mustered a weak smile back, quickening my pace and trying to ignore the feeling that the entire room was watching my every move.

Benn had to reach over and keep Shanks from standing to pull me into a hug, which I thanked him for with a polite smile. Yasopp was trying his best to make me lose my composure with stupid faces, and I was failing miserably at keeping my lips from twitching.

Maria was giving me a cheerful thumbs up, Zutsu and her blonde friend, whose name I really needed to learn, by her side as I passed around a second time. This round, I couldn't help but look for the beautiful man. Half of me hoped he wasn't there, and I wouldn't have to worry about getting up the courage to ask him anything, but the other half would have been crushed if he was gone.

He was still there, still sipping from his wine glass, in the exact same position as before, and still as devastatingly gorgeous.

Ask him, you'll regret it if you don't.

Yeah, sure, and embarrass myself to pieces if he refuses me.

I paused for an instant, hearing what sounded like the first line of the pre-chorus from Delilah. Shit shit shit shit shit-

I had to hurry along, or I'd make a fool of myself regardless of who I picked.

Shanks. I'll just go to Shanks. Maybe Benn, if he's too drunk.

But my feet carried me, trembling, to the man sipping his wine.

"Calico Jack Calico Jack I've never met a man here looking like that-"

Still trembling, I held out my hand. His eyes seemed to cut into me like knives, and he didn't move.

But neither did I.

The room had gone silent, and all I could hear was Delilah's voice and the band. Beads of sweat gathered on my forehead, and my hand faltered slightly. I did my best to give a polite smile to him, praying he would hurry up and either refuse me or take my hand.

"Calico Jack You've met your match Calico Jack Won't you give me my heart back-"

I started to turn away, ready to just ask Shanks, or piss myself, whichever came first, before I felt it.

His hand wasn't particularly warm, and it was rough with calluses that I presumed were from the giant sword sitting beside him. His touch was tentative for a split second, before committing and fully grabbing it before standing.

Damn, he was tall. I was eye-level with his collarbone, and was trying my best not to gawk at the chest below it when he gingerly grabbed my waist. I jumped at first, forgetting why I'd come up to him in the first place.

"Your friends have been trying to get you to back away since they saw you looking this way. Should you have listened?"

As bored as his tone sounded, his voice melted me like butter. Fuck. This was embarrassing.

"I just- it felt right to ask you," I blabbered, trying to avoid eye contact with him.

He let out a hmf before stepping closer toward me. I snapped out of my trance at the proximity, and hurriedly stepped out toward the dance floor, pulling him with me. Maria and the rest of the dancers were in my peripheral, all looking as if I'd died in front of them.

Was it so hard to believe I could get a good-looking stranger to dance with me? I'd thought that at least Maria had some faith in me.

We settled into a fast-paced rotating two-step, and as we passed around the room, the audience grew rowdy again. I hadn't realized my decision had held so much weight here, but perhaps the little custom meant more to people here than I realized.

I dared to look back up at his face, and instantly started to sweat again as his gazed pierced through me. Shit, he was even more beautiful up close. He'd taken the lead in the dance now, and surprisingly, held himself with the grace of an experienced dancer. Judging by his looks, I could have guessed he'd waltzed or something fancy like that at some point in his life, but he didn't seem the type to be in a dark, noisy place like this. Nor did he seem to be the type to take part in dancing recreationally as a whole.

Too nervous to say anything directly to him, I offered him my best version of a pleasant smile. He remained stoic, but I could have sworn I saw the corner of his mouth prick up.

I was trying my damnest to ignore the lovely shape of his lips when he asked, "What's your name?" it was a piss-poor, stiff attempt at being polite, but I appreciated it nonetheless.

"Jett."

"How lively."

I hummed in response, unsure of what to say.

"Your first dance tonight was... interesting to watch."

Oh, that was mortifying. My face burned, and I could feel my palms growing sweaty.

"I, uh, I'm new here, I hadn't danced in a while, and-"

"You were drunk?" The corner of his lip was quirked up again, just barely noticeable.

"Yeah, but-"

"And now-"

"There's no need for you to be an asshole," I muttered, my embarrassment reaching my tongue before common sense could hold it.

He gave the impression that not many people stood up to him with the way his brows furrowed just slightly. Thankfully for me, he also seemed to want to keep his composure.

He liked being in control.

Perhaps it was the lingering effects of alcohol that made me gather the courage, but that one slip in his stoic expression made me determined to make him crack.

Perhaps a small part of me wanted to see him really smile.

"So- you've been watching me tonight?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

"That didn't answer the question."

"Please, if I wanted to watch someone drunkenly stumble about, I wouldn't have come all the way here." He was trying so hard to stay grumpy, it was laughable.

As controlled as his expression was, he had one fatal tell- those pretty eyes. And they seemed to like to shift the slightest bit down every now and then before looking me in the face again. There.

"You know, you might think my dancing is subpar, but you certainly don't mind peeking at my-"

His grip tightened on my waist, although his face remained neutral. Leaning down, the brim of his hat grazed my temple.

"You are the last one who can make any comments about any sort of inappropriate glances, dear." As he withdrew, he brushed a stray curl over my shoulder.

I hated that he was right, and his touching wasn't doing much to help my case.

Neither was that very open coat that revealed a little more of his waist each time stepped with his right foot. What was somehow more impressive was that he was completely unfazed by dancing. I was sweating and aching, and a few annoying bits of my "hair" kept sticking to the back of my neck.

As thrilled as I was at the chance to dance with such a handsome man, I couldn't help but think it was such a pity he turned out to be so glum. Witty, certainly, but still a bit sour. To be fair, I also couldn't judge him based on his attitude, as I also wasn't exactly sunshine and rainbows.

We were actually quite alike, I found, as the dance ended, and the two of us were promptly pulled aside by a very loud ginger man. It seemed the both of us were equally as annoyed by him.

"Oi, Hawkeyes, I didn't know you had that in you," Shanks was slightly slurring his words, but still remained perfectly upright.

Hawkeyes? Oh, shit-

I'd just danced with the world's strongest swordsman, a fucking warlord, Dracule "Hawkeyes" Mihawk.

[goodenoughformeee]

A story for an aroace person aka me part 2 :p

Due to a lack of aroace characters/representation in many shows/ stories/mangas/manhwas/ etc, my brain went "if there is no representation, just make it yourself"

Hence, the creation of this story which doesn't have a name yet! I thought that I would name this story after I finished it like an idiot :D

{ basically what the story is about: two best friends who died and got reincarnated as the original mc and original villainess in an otome game }

(so from where I left the story, think you'll have to read part 1 to understand if you want, also keep in mind I'm not that good of a story writer lol)

Magic also exists in this world, from what xia, (which was the name give to her by her care takers in the orphanage) has gathered so far about this world was that, it seemed less developed than her modern world so far, a person can only use/possess one type of magic and get the said magic around the age of 7.

There were 7 different types of magic: fire, water, ice, fauna, earth, lighting and wind magic

From what she had heard from adults from the orphanage, there were schools which children could go to learn to further develop their understanding of their magic.

The education level vary from location to location. She also assumes that there is a possibility of high class- low class system and slavery in this world. She was correct on the first half to this hypothesis when she saw the person who looked like a Nobel from the anime and manga she watched and read visit the orphanage.

With the very limited information she has gathered, xia still doesn't have enough information to know where she reincarnated into.

It's not that she minds the whole reincarnation gig but she has read too much of this genre to not know what is to come next. As most of these reincarnation genre (with female mc at least), romance is HEAVY involved of which our mc doesn't want to be a part of.

But xia also remembers in some manhwas/ mangas with female mcs who at the start of the story say they won't fall in love/ won't get involved with the main characters but then later, plot happens and suddenly the character which she said she won't fall for, she falls for. So Xia was determined to avoid that.

So she pretends to be a normal 3 year old by seeing how other 3 year olds act around the orphanage.

After a couple of weeks, Xia comes to the realization that her hair color could help narrow down where she reincarnated into.

And ran to the nearest reflected surface and observes her hair which was pink with light blue hear the ends of her hair.

So she tries to think of characters with that type of hair color and she doesn't remember at all... Needless to say, Xia is very disappointed in her memory power to remember the characters at that moment.

Some time skip

Xia is now 5 years old and a lot has changed for the past 2 years.

The first thing that changed is that, Xia discovered that she has a different type of magic from what she has original known before the week she turned 5 . Whatever this magic was helped her heal wounds be it the wounds be hers or others. So she training her magic which she deems as healing magic.

The second thing that changed is the environment of the orphanage. After the kind head caretaker had died due to some reason that Xia doesn't know, new head care takers was given the job.

They were a married couple who on the first few days treated everyone nicely but soon showed their true colours.

They were insanely greedy, so much so that they fired al most all the staff to save money and told the children who were old enough to do simple chore. They even went as far as to manipulate the younger children into believing the old staff were bad people and the older children who knew something was wrong were threatened with the lives of the younger children if they didn't do what the couple were telling them to do.

In order for the couple to earn more money they started to sell the kids on the black market or sold them as slaves after the children has gotten their magic.

Due to selling kids on the market so often, the wife had got to know which type of magic was on high demand and which was not. The kids who had the higher demand magic would be sold on a higher demand and were treated better while the kids who had the lower demand magic were treated poorly compared to the higher demand ones.

Upon seeing this, Xia who has two years on average to get her second magic powers (she had not told anyone about her healing magic), ultimately made a plan to escape the orphanage. She hoped that she would not get the higher demand magic in order to not be sold off.

(that's all the story for now

Hope you enjoyed

If you've anything questions feel free to ask! :D

Have a good day or night! <3 )