#brook themed fic

[badly-drawn-doflamingo]

Guess who made a SANJI THEMED CHAPTER this time… WITH MUSIC!

I’ve never written about him and his grief but, ya know, seemed like a grand time!

[fanaticsnail]

Parts You Left Behind

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 7,300+

Synopsis: You are the ship’s counselor aboard the Polar Tang. Giving your captain the permission he desires to behave idiotically with the two Nakama captains, you give yourself permission to behave with similar unbridled stupidity. The Soul-King Brook has your romantic attention: you love his energy and decide to reciprocate his flirtations, no matter how crass and distasteful they come across.

Themes: Brook x f!reader, therapist!reader x nakama-musician!brook, skeleton kisses, cheek kisses, platonic kisses, romantic kisses, angst, fluff, crews being themselves, validating feelings, requited love, flirtatious dialogue, talks of panties, heart-pirate!reader

Notes: this was meant to be a small drabble. And the same thing happens every time I try writing a small drabble - we end up with a full fic. Apparently I have a lot of angst inside about the Heart-Pirates that needed to get out, and also skeleton kisses. Posted a day late for the Skele-man's bday. Thank you to @sordidmusings and @since-im-already-here for helping me with boney kisses.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @vespidphoenix @carrotsunshine @cinnbar-bun @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff (sorry if you're all not into the skeleton. He needed some love)

The air shifted the weight of salt-forward air through the strands of fallen hair which whipped across your face. The docking of the three ships, joined together by ropes and beams, were thrust into the hull by a soft thump. Your crewmate Shachi instinctively reached for your forearm to steady himself on, gritting his teeth as he adjusted to the new altitude above deck.

“You alright there, big boy?” you cocked your head to the side as Shachi balanced himself on your forearm and the metal beam framing the deck. He hid his head from view, shooting you a swift gesture with his thumb to indicate his well being. You smiled at him, shifting his weight on your arm by weaving yourself beneath his shoulder. 

Rubbing soothing circles onto his back, you aided him in adjusting to the altitude difference, as he grew accustomed to life above the barrier of the oceanic waves. Being at lower altitude saved Shachi’s sea-sickness from the swell of waves, rocking his body and causing his stomach to lurch with every rise of the ocean surface. 

“I got you, sweety,” you cooed at your red-headed crewman, holding him steady as he holds back the rise of bile in his throat: refusing to open the floodgates to expel the contents of his stomach, “Take some deep breaths for me, hun. Big one in,” you breathed with him inwards for three seconds, holding it briefly, “And then out,” you exhaled with him.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Good job,” you praised him, feeling a shudder in his shoulders as he fought back the sickness in his stomach and mouth. You breathed with him a few more times, praising him on every inhale and exhale that he took with you. Once adjusting to the pattern of the swelling ocean, he turned to face you.

“It’s just hard, you know? Being under the water, then over it again,” he commented, leaning into your touch with his back arching beneath your palm, “It’s the rocking that does it for me. Just the constant rocking.”

“I dunno,” you shrugged beneath his shoulders with a bitten-back, downturned smile, “I don’t mind a bit of constant rocking from time to time.” 

Shachi expelled a roar of laughter accompanied with your own at your unbridled jest. He hooked his arm over your shoulder and teetered off into a light chuckle. You looked up at your crewmen beneath your shoulder and shot him a winning smile. He reflected the expression on your lips with one of his own. 

“There’s a few members of the Straw-Hat and Kid-Pirate crews, hun,” Shachi commented, gesturing to the ship that had docked with your own with the index finger of the hand around your shoulders, “Maybe you could find some constant rocking amongst a few of them.”

Your captain, Trafalgar Law, made you aware of all of the crew that served the Captain of the Thousand Sunny. The ever growing list of occupants never seemed to end: Captain Luffy, First-Mate Zoro, Navigator Nami, Marksman Usopp, Chef Sanji, Doctor Chopper, Archeologist Robin, Shipwright Franky, and finally, the Musician Brook. 

Your role as the counselor of the Heart-Pirates, executing your position with the utmost excellence, had you immediately drawn to advise your captain with the Nakama encounters with the Straw-Hat Crew. You knew a few members of the crew, the person you seemed to gravitate towards the most was Nico Robin. Her level-headed dimenure alongside her ability to balance the rapport of the crew was truly admirable.  

The other was the playful musician, Brook. The first time you met with the Straw-Hat “Brook,” you were truly ill-prepared for what was to come of it. Where a few people found his straightforward approach of flirting with the opposite sex repulsive, you found it quite endearing. When he performed his melodic compositions, you were entranced by his musicianship. You adored him, and would love to get to know him in the arena of flirtatious engagement. 

“We’ll see,” you smirked up at him, pressing a small, friendly kiss on your crewmate’s shoulder before you gave his waist a gentle squeeze, “How are we feeling, Shach?”

“A bit better,” he confirmed with a nod, looking over to the docked ship and their crewmen, “Just gotta focus on not locking my knees, and we’ll be all set.” He turned to look down at you, smirking with his eyes shrouded beneath his glasses. Leaning down, he pressed a small kiss on your forehead before breaking from the embrace. 

Shachi, Penguin and you were the closest amongst the Heart-Pirate crew. The seas were incredibly lonely, comfort being scantily found amongst one another aboard the crew. It started one night when the shifts were switching between the ‘am’ and ‘pm’ crews, your body reacting in its exhausted state within changeover.

“Nothing new to report here, just a small blip on the monitor indicating the arrival of a school of fish,” you yawned at Penguin, he nodded in understanding. 

“Alright then,” he confirmed, clapping a hand on your shoulder in his own dissociative and sleep-deprived state, “Get some rest. See you in a couple winks, honey.” You hummed in response, cupping his left cheek within your right hand and pulling his right cheek towards you.

“Night-night,” you uttered, pressing a small peck on his left cheek before turning to his redheaded shift-partner beside him, “Happy shift-watching,” you uttered, breaking contact with Penguin’s body before extending the height of your body by standing firmly on the tips of your toes. Grasping Shachi’s cheeks, you tilted his head to give him a gentle peck on his forehead before heading off to crew-quarters without any further explanation. 

After that moment, the three of you became as close as close friends could be. Jokes, playfulness and comradery were always openly expressed physically between the three of you. Should Captain Law make port, you would wingman for your special boys, just as they would absolutely reciprocate for you. Each time Law made a Nakama encounter, you would all be on the lookout for appropriate couplings for one another. 

“All crew: prepare to board,” your captain’s voice rang over the speakers with a soft crackle, “Reconvene aboard the Straw-Hat vessel. Counselor, to my side.”

Bowing a small nod and giving Shachi a final squeeze, you broke from your position within the arms of Shachi and made your journey to your position beside your captain. Both the Victoria Punk and the Polar Tang bound themselves against the Thousand Sunny: sandwiching the great lion figure between their own figureheads. 

Approaching your captain, you cupped your palm over his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. He huffed out an acknowledgement of your name and title while he bowed his head. 

“You wanted to see me, Captain?” you asked him, stepping into his peripheral view. He continued to have his head bowed low, pursing his lips into a straight line. You furrowed your brows, sinking lower to get a better gauge on his emotions.

“I have a confession, Counselor,” he nodded, opening his eyes and looking above his descended brow, “And I need absolutely no judgment other than the highest level of professionalism.”

“Understood, Sir,” you smiled, releasing his shoulder and quarrying your own as a way of depicting your full attention, “You will always have my ears, along with my complete attention.” He sighed in gratitude, tilting his chin to elevate his eyes upwards. 

“Being with those two captains makes me-...” he paused with a light scoff in his tone, “...-make awful decisions. It’s as if I am no longer in control of myself: always doing something to prove how much of a man I am to not only them, but to myself.” 

Nodding along to his confession, you wordlessly agreed with all points he raised regarding himself. You relaxed your stance, opting to remain more compassionate and empathetic while you listen to your captain speak. As of this moment, your captain was only a man - and one that desired to verbally process with his therapeutic confidant: you. 

“I put our very lives at stake with this utter stupidity,” he continued, shaking his head at himself as he uttered his confessions to you, “All I seem to do is share a single, joint brain cell with those two morons each time we meet. There are no intelligible thoughts I can call my own, only competition and idiocy seem to remain.” 

After taking several moments pause, Trafalgar D Water-Law waited patiently for you to offer a countenance for his predicament. You suddenly allow a warm smile to begin its rise on your lips.

“May I ask what our purpose is with docking with the Thousand Sunny and the Victoria Punk?” you pose your question as simply as you can. He furrows his brows, clicking his tongue in thought.

“It’s a simple exchange of information,” he confirms with you, eyeing your face as you receive this knowledge, “And to determine if our alliance should remain valid in its longevity.” You hum in response, pursing your lips before allowing that warmth to return to your features once more.

“Then I would suggest leaning into the so-called stupidity, sir,” you shrug, scrunching your nose before looking to the hull of the Thousand Sunny. Cyborg-Franky was tying up the rigging to secure the Polar Tang in position to ensure it didn’t slip away in the swell of water with the dark-haired Nico Robin beside him.

“Excuse me?” Law expressed his concern with a low tone, “Lean into it?” You hum emphatically, returning your gaze to meet with your captain. You shrugged nonchalantly, cocking your head to the side to get a better gauge on the emotions of your captain.

“We’re not in any danger here, sir,” you relay your translation of his objective, “We have no threats posed to us, that is not at the hands of one another. I doubt the other two captains and their crew would make any attack on our vessel here, if we’re all in a similar predicament.” 

Law stands quietly, interlacing his hands behind his back as he mulls your words over in his head. He inhales a deep breath, closing his eyes with his brow deeply furrowed in the center of his forehead. 

“If I also may, sir,” you add, stepping closer to your captain, “You are only twenty-six years old. You are young,” you dip your head down to capture his gaze, his eyes now reopened, “And from what we’ve discussed in our prior sessions together: the opportunity to behave like a child in your youth was taken from you by illness and cruel, tyrannical hands. You never truly had an opportunity to be stupid, Captain.” His small gasp was barely audible, eyes widening at you giving him permission to behave childishly.

“Then what would you suggest, Counselor?” He questioned you a final time, floating his gaze with the utmost seriousness between your playful eyes. 

“Allow the crew of the Polar Tang to switch out of their uniforms, and let us all be stupid together,” you smile at your captain, extending your hand up to clasp his shoulder once more, “You deserve to be stupid amongst friends. Even if it’s just for a little while. If it matters, as one of the few members of your crew you trust with the rank and title to dismiss you from active duty-...”

Law’s eyes never left yours as you softened your playful expression

“...You have my permission to be stupid, sir,” you quip with a small wink, releasing his shoulder from within your grasp and turning back to make eye contact with the Thousand Sunny’s archeologist. You give her a small wave and a broad smile, with a final word to the gloomy man by your side, “But really, the person who’s permission you truly need is your own. Give yourself the luxury of behaving like, as you say, ‘a moron’ for a few moments. See what happens.”

With that final word, Law dismissed himself from his place standing beside you and hurriedly scurried below decks to, presumably, his office. In his sessions with you, he has worked through a few hard truths, all of which resulted in him taking a few moments in isolation to allow the truths to sink in. This appeared to be such a moment as this; which left you, in his absence, to be the welcoming committee to both the Straw-Hat and Kid-Pirate crews and their Captains.

As you walked over the wooden plank used as a makeshift bridge between the vessels, Nico Robin offered you her hand to stabilize your footing as you stepped down onto the deck. Her radiant smile elevated her features, mirrored within your own. 

“Counselor,” she addressed you with the smooth hum of her voice. 

“Archeologist,” you acknowledged her title with a soft nod in your welcome, “Are we reduced to titles now? Shall I address all of you in such a manner?” Luffy smiled at you, his pearly teeth shining beneath his upturned eyes. 

“Where’s Traffy at?” Luffy asked loudly, his voice carrying over to alert the red-headed captain at the other side of the deck, “He not with you?”

“Unfortunately not. My captain is not available to conduct the preliminary introductions of our crews presently,” you relayed your practiced response, “Is there anything I can do to make this first step more comfortable for you while we wait, Captain Luffy?” you asked before turning to the taller man rapidly approaching, “Or you, Captain Kid?” you finished your question with a low bow and awaited their responses. 

“Nah,” Luffy shrugged, clapping his hands behind his neck and offering you a tight-lipped smile, “Welcome aboard, Counselor. Tell your crew to get comfy, Sanji has made a whole heap of food for us all.” You rose from your deep stoop, smiling at Luffy before turning to Eustass Kid and awaiting his response. 

“Traffy sends his cute little counselor ahead of him to meet us, instead of showing his ugly mug up here,” Kid smirked, his lip paint cracking in the warmth of the sun, “Smart man, that captain of yours.” You chose to remain stoic at his unbridled, backhanded compliment of your captain. You extended your chin into the air, narrowing your eyes at the tall captain. 

“I would prefer all compliments coming my way be not at the expense of my captain’s intellect, nor his appearance,” you snarled, arching your brow at him, “If that would be all, Captain Kid.”

“Aye. That’s all, little mouse. Scurry on back to your duties,” he smirked down at you, his narrowed eyes training after you as you turned to direct your crew, now in common clothes, aboard the Thousand Sunny. They all seemed more than joyful at their captain’s lax behavior, depicting their personalities in their own styles rather than in boiler suits. The only member of the Heart-Pirate crew that remained in their uniform was yourself, eagerly awaiting for your captain’s dismissal so you could change into common clothes, yourself. 

You felt a presence behind you, your blood running cold as a shudder curled itself up from the base of your spine to the top of your skull. The small rattle of bones indicated the soul which stood behind you, a smile immediately tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Pardon me, miss,” the soft-spoken voice addressed you over your shoulder, “Would you mind terribly if I were to ask you what type of panties you were wearing?” Your tight-lipped grin did very little to stifle your teetered giggle at such an insanely, forward question from the familiar man behind you.

“Soul-King Brook,” you addressed him, turning to meet with the hollowed eyes of the skeletal form which stood before you. He was dressed in a purple, velvet suit, his hair curled and styled in a carefree, circular afro. The beads hanging from his skeletal neck shook and rattled against his exposed ribcage, the perfectly bleached bones secured with a black, leather belt. 

Eagerly awaiting your response, he pressed the tips of his fingers together in anticipation of your response to such an unhinged question. He could not remember if you were the type to yell, if you were the type to respond with violence, nor if you were the type to simply scoff and walk away from him. 

“If I were wearing any, I would absolutely inform you of the make and model,” you smirked up at him, before adding a soft wink with a further hushed utterance, “When I am dismissed from duty by my captain to change into more comfortable clothes, I would be more than happy to tell you the exact shade of the ensemble.” 

If you had never met this man in encounters prior, you would scoff if anyone ever attempted to convince you that skeletons could blush. But you did know him, and here he was: Brook, the Soul-King, the undead skeleton - blushing red at your words. The cracked cap above the crown of his head popped briefly, to which you almost thought you could see steam rise out of the hollow crevice. 

Nami, the straw-hat navigator, noticed the skeletal musician beside you seeming to have a small rush of energy pop out of his cranium. Immediately, she hastily walked to your side to ensure the skeletal man was behaving himself.

“I-If then, it wouldn’t be too much trouble, miss,” he stuttered over his words, tumbling through his teeth without anything to halt them, “Would you mind telling me if the carpet matches the drapes?” 

“Brook!” Nami scolded her crewmate with a loud reprimand, “You can’t just go around asking people if-.” You halted her words with a wave of your hand and an enthusiastic giggle.

“-It’s perfectly fine with me, Navigator,” you huffed a laugh at both his poorly held conversational skill, and the response his crewman welcomed him with, “I am more than capable of defending myself if I were ever uncomfortable, but I thank you for your valiance nonetheless.” From the corner of your peripheral, you notice Law’s presence aboard the Thousand Sunny. He gives you a curt nod before elevating his chin sharply to excuse you from active duty to change out of your uniform.

“If I may be excused, Nami, Brook,” you nodded to the two Nakama crew respectfully, which they both reciprocated. You turned and began to take a few steps, casually calling over your shoulder, “To answer your question, Musician: The last time I checked, I wasn’t bald up top.” 

The whistle of steam sprung into the air behind you, the rattles of the rotation of excited bones clinked together behind you with the familiar, unhinged laughter you had come to enjoy upon your meetings with the Straw-Hat crew. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself as you made your way back to the Polar Tang to redress yourself in more appropriate garb for the encounter. 

Brushing your shoulders against Shachi and Penguin as you began to go below deck, Penguin quickly grasped his hand over your wrist and halted your movement. You quickly snapped your head to him as he lent down towards you.

“You keen on the skeleton, honey?” he whispered his hushed question into your ear, “Need a wingman to set something up? We can be on the lookout for something, if you like.” You laugh at his questioning, shaking your head at his enthusiasm at the proposition of a romantic fling amongst the crews. Feeling the loosening of his grip over your wrist, you quickly pressed a small kiss against his cheek in gratitude. 

“I think I can manage on my own,” you confirmed with a small teetered laugh, “He is quite easy on the eyes, and I find his unbridled lust for the living flesh endearing.” Shachi joined you with your laughter, both quickly dismissing themselves from your presence as you hopped back on board of the ship you called home. 

Hollowed eyes tracked your every movement. From the grip on your wrist, to the kiss on a cheek, to the teetered giggle rising between the three of you. Brook didn’t truly understand how to feel in this moment: a woman of his dreams seemingly reciprocal of his flirtations being more than friendly with her own crewmen. Was this foreign emotion jealousy? 

He turned his head from your position, as your silhouette vanished below decks of the Polar Tang. He felt a warm hand tuck itself within his skeletal palm, giving his bones a gentle squeeze in support. Nico Robin offered Brook a smile alongside her affectionate touch, soothing over his scattering nerves. 

“She is friendly with those two, Brook,” she hummed up at his tall form, “You, of all people, understand how lonely it is on the seas. She’s blessed to have found friends to offer her a gentle touch and a friendly embrace from time to time.”

“That I do, Robin,” Brook confirmed softly, nodding to himself as he knit his thoughts together, “I just-...” he trailed off, his onyx hollows seeking out the former position you were atop the deck of the Polar Tang, “...I would never dream of ruining that, should I choose to entangle myself with her. She’s wonderful.” 

Robin’s gaze floats over to the two crewmen of the Polar Tang you had found a family with, both of which were focussed in deep, private conversation. Their eyes would float up to Brook, as their hushed whispers were scheming in hyper-focussed plotting. 

“Something tells me you won’t be ruining anything, Dear,” Robin chuckles before releasing Brook’s hand and giving him a small tap on his shoulder in encouragement. 

As you stripped out of your boiler-suit, you hastily made yourself more comfortable in clothes you rarely found yourself donning. You quickly made an appropriate arrangement of your favorite dress: cinched in the waist, accentuating your figure in a perfect hourglass and laid it out on your bed. Before you threw on a plain set of undergarments, your fingers halted on fabrics you had yet to have an opportunity to wear.

A small smile grew into a playful, mischievous grin, as your fingers looped over the lingerie: hastily drawing it up onto your body. You usually wore this garment if you were feeling particularly dull in your boilers uniform: something only for you to wear to make yourself feel more confident. You giggled as you hooked your thumbs over the bottom piece and pulled it up over your thighs to settle on your hips. Hooping your arms through the arm holes of the corseted bodice, you tightened the front of the piece to accentuate your breasts within the cups. 

You quickly took a moment to laugh at yourself at your own stupidity, before you reminded yourself: “If I gave the captain permission to allow himself a moment of idiocy, why should I not do the same? Where is the harm?” 

Throwing your dress over your head, you took a final glance at yourself in the mirror. Hastily adding a small amount of makeup to accentuate your features, you hurriedly made your way back up to the top deck of the Polar Tang while adjusting your laced ankle boots as you took lengthy strides.

As you made your way back aboard the Thousand Sunny, you truly took the time to notice the assortment of clothes your crewmen were finally allowed the luxury of expressing. You set an internal reminder to put forward a petition to allow the crew to dress casually at least once a month while serving aboard the Polar Tang. 

Your eyes quickly found the skeleton, sitting cross legged in front of a checkerboard with the archeologist of the Straw-Hat crew: both drinking jasmine tea and engaging in a game of chess. Approaching slowly, she gazed up at you and wordlessly complimented your chosen casual attire for the day. You gestured with your eyes whether it was an opportune moment to interrupt their game to claim the skeleton’s attention for a moment. She tilted her head with a warm smile, gesturing with her hands to go right ahead. 

Brook was confused briefly before he felt a hand press down on his shoulder. He quickly turned his face to glance down at the fingers perched on his right shoulder before his chin was claimed beneath the same warm grip. You tilted his face to gaze into his eyes, taking a moment for Brook’s mind to catch up to what his body was experiencing. You gazed through half-hooded lashes into the darkened recesses of his circular hollows, a playful smile drawn up on your lips. 

“Violet and pastel-lavender,” you uttered in a soothing, low voice, “Laced up with a gold ribbon in the front with a gold embellished trim around the hemline.” Brook would have lowered his eyebrows in deep thought, if he had any hair sprouting over his skull. He was confused as to what exactly you were relaying to him before he focussed on who was relaying the information. 

His spectral breath was taken from him, no further words were formed within his hollow cranium as steam began to exude from every open orifice. Your half-hooded eyes playfully toyed with him, as a feline would with their freshly caught rodent in their teeth. You held your eyes watching him squirm as you bit your smile back with your teeth, while Robin attempted to contain her chuckle at witnessing her crewman be the center of another’s romantic attention. 

“Y-Y-You-...” he choked on his words, the steam rapidly whistling and fuming throughout his skull, “...You’re w-wearing purple panties?” You giggled at his response, pressing your painted lips against the hollow surface where his nose was once located, leaving a perfect pursed circlet of affection painted on the bleached bones. 

“Of course I am,” you confirmed with a wink before pulling away from him, releasing him from your hands and beginning to rise from your stoop, “I had to match with my favorite musician.” You gestured to the velvet suit Brook was wearing, prompting his attention to briefly switch to his own clothes before snapping his head back up. His jaw hung comically slack, prompting a giggle to rise in your throat before you turned back to acknowledge the woman opposite to Brook.

“Apologies for my forwardness, Nico Robin,” you bowed your head in respect to the dark-haired woman before returning your attention back to Brook, “Soul-King,” you nodded your head to the musician before walking over to your captain. 

Sitting beside Trafalgar Law as he shared a single brain cell with the two Nakama captains was truly a sight to behold. You adored how he finally allowed himself to loosen the tight reins he held himself bound by, his playful stupidity was something you would’ve prescribed as his personal councilor. He needed a holiday, and he was finding one beside the two louder captains. 

As the food changed from the savories, to the sweets, to the cheeses and cured meats: you felt hollow eyes fixated upon your form. You were not swayed by the attention in the slightest, it was a welcomed change to your experience aboard the Polar Tang. You embraced the opportunity to express your femininity in a creative way, and it was a bonus that you managed to snag the attention of such a unique individual as-.

“Brookie!” Captain Luffy called over the ramblings of the crowd, “How’s about a song? Somethin’ from the heart while we enjoy being one big crew together?” 

His trance broken by the orders of his Captain, Brook snapped out of his bout of hypnotism as he made his way hurriedly to claim the first instrument set aside on the deck. The old guitar had water-swollen cracks in the base, but the strings were all new and freshly tuned. When he played music, he was in his own world: unaware of the life around him as he let the music carry his soul. 

As his skeletal fingers began plucking at the strings, his voice relayed a heartfelt melody that held you completely transfixed on his form. Both Shachi and Penguin snickered at your awestruck expression, nudging each other with their elbows as your breath was claimed from you. Law attempted to ask you a question over his shoulder, turning to face you as he didn’t hear a word or utterance of response from your direction.

Law's gaze floated over your starstruck expression, the music fully moving your soul was painted intricately on your face. Your eyes began to become glassy as the swell of Brook’s melody reverberated in your eardrums and shook you to your core.

He smirked at you, uncaring that his question remained unanswered. Your captain reached his hand down, claiming your palms and giving them a gentle squeeze as you remained unresponsive to the world around you. 

Nothing existed in this room: just you, and the skeletal man who was singing to every fibre of your very soul. You were entranced, bewitched, captivated and spellbound by his melody.

Brook in his time as a musician in his corporeal form was well renowned for his shanties and musical ensembles. Some of his melodies were taught to you as a child before you decided to embark on a life of piracy. 

Nothing could have prepared you to meet the man who influenced your childhood musicianship, especially one on the high seas between all the quarters of the continent. Nor did you ever picture yourself falling in love with him as he finally concluded his performance aboard his vessel, to which you were a welcomed guest aboard.

You were too stunned to offer applause in response to the song’s conclusion, the world suddenly jolting back into existence as calls for an encore were encouraged from the three crews. 

Brook’s spectral eyes were held in complete focus against your own, noticing the elevation in your heartbeat flooded to dust your cheeks in a warm flush. Your lips were parted, your eyes never leaving his as you blinked the world back into existence around you. Brook took a brief bow before he extended his boned hand out towards you, nodding to you in a gesture for you to take his hand and join him. 

Turning to your captain first, Law nodded his head to excuse you from your position beside him, you rose to your feet and stepped around from the positions the three crews scattered themselves atop the deck, reaching forward and taking Brook’s skeletal hand. He guided you over to the plush stool beneath the piano, taking a seat beside you as he began to perform a classical arrangement that required no vocals. 

Enthralled by the melody once more, your eyes focussed on the piano. The ebony and ivory keys dipped and rose beneath skilled fingers, the passion in the melody depicted with each crescendoed element. 

“Do you play any instruments?” Brook asked in a low, hushed tone beside you. You snapped out of your brief captivity and looked to his vacant hollows. The empty sockets held firm against your face, focussed on every subtle change in your expression. His fingers continued to clack at the smoothed tips of the keys as he awaited your answer. 

“Not since embarking on a life of piracy, much to the disdain of my heritage with my familial title,” you shrugged with a soft smile, his skull now holding your attention rather than the melody, “I did sing in my youth when I was in medical school, which was a long, long time ago.” 

“Not as long as my youth was. Of that, I am certain,” Brook jested with you, nudging you playfully with his shoulder, “And I bet you could still sing if given the appropriate circumstances.” You returned the gentle nudge with your bicep before lulling your head over the curvature of his firm shoulder.

“I highly doubt we would find ourselves in those rare circumstances, Bone-Daddy,” you snickered at him, enjoying the subtle hiccup in his tinkering atop the keys at the bestowal of such a title. 

“And if I were to ask you to sing with me, Liebchen?” he asked, briefly resting his head atop yours and nuzzling against you. His hair tickled your skin as he rested his undead body against yours. The rambunctious merriment aboard the vessel broke you away from Brook’s question, prompting you to raise your head from its position on his shoulder as you witnessed the stupidity your captain’s were involved in.

Each captain had managed to locate several bugs and beetles aboard the vessel, drawing a chalk circle on the wooden floor of the Thousand Sunny. It seemed that each captain had chosen a bug, beetle or arachnid: those creatures needing to touch the chalk ring of the circle the fastest to determine a clear winner amongst the Nakama.

Shaking your head with a warm, melodical chuckle at how much your captain was letting himself engage with the two other captains in their idiocy, you allowed the warmth to spread up to your cheeks. You were proud of your captain in his vulnerability to engage with them in this way.  

Brook concluded his piano concerto to the absence of applause now the attention was on the insects in front of the captains. You turned to Brook and gave him a soft round of kind applause with your hands, to which he bowed his head in response. Cheers and hollers were thrust into the air at the engagement of the insect race, prompting you both to shake your heads as your eyes remained fixed on Brook’s.

“Will you?” Brook asked once more, elevating his hand to capture your own beneath his, “Will you sing with me, Liebchen? Something small and familiar to you?” You sighed in response, upturning your brows and allowing a soft smile to elevate against your lips. He held onto hope, his hand giving yours a small squeeze in eager anticipation of your answer. 

“I would adore singing with you, Brook,” you sighed breathlessly, “Lead me in song, and I’ll follow the melody you set.” The skeletal man, should flesh be imagined on his features, would be beaming a broad and enthusiastic smile at your willing participation.

He reached within the opening of the piano, pulling out a small instrument with four strings and a rotating handle at the base. Several indented cogs and keys clacked at the sides beneath his skilled fingers, the music springing from the instrument sounded not so dissimilar to a violin with the dual tonality of piped bags. 

“This is a hurdy-gurdy, if you haven’t seen one of its make before,” he informed you with enthusiasm. You nodded down at the instrument as he performed with chords and melody over the clacking and winding, stringed instrument. 

“Do you know any melodies to this progression?” he asked as he played a few minor keys in sequence, “I know it would be somber, but I would love to hear you sing something like-.” His words were stolen from him as you began to lilt your voice in a familiar tune from your childhood. 

Although over time the lyrics in certain passages became lost to you, the intention was there with each skilled fluttery phrase. This melody was bittersweet and melancholy, the song depicting a foreign land where death and grief would no longer hold purchase over those who flee to its comfort. 

There was no mention of a lover, nor whisper of romance within the phrases - yet each lyric fleeing from your lips had the skeletal man falling deeper into the trenches of his adoration and admiration for you. As he learnt the melody and the repetition of the chorus, his voice joined your melody in harmony: skillfully floating in perfect pitch within the realms of your vocal skill. 

As the melody ceased, silence once again surrounded you: the world once again free of the colorful atmosphere you were painting with your song. You were in your own little world with the Soul-King, Brook, beside you. Barely comprehending your actions, you leant forward and brushed your painted lips against the bone occupying the space his lips once were. 

Drawing up the heels of your palms, you collected his cheekbones within them and held him firmly as you pressed several more, soft kisses against his boned lips. It was an unusual feeling, teeth where lips should be, bones where cheeks should be, cold aura of hollows where the fluttering eyelashes of a lover would belong. 

Breaking away your lips from his face, you gazed longingly into the dark sockets of his eyes. No word was spoken between you as you held your breath. He turned his face away from you, shaking his head lightly as if battling an internal argument with himself. Your brows triangulate upwards in the center of your forehead, eyes wide and innocent as you bite at your cheek nervously. Resolving his internal struggle with a huffed breath, he turned back towards you. 

Claiming both of your hands within his own, he gently squeezed at your digits. 

“I never, in all my days in this skeletal body, have longed to have lips as much as I do now,” he confessed in a dark whisper. You floated your eyes between the hollowed sockets, searching for further insight to his feelings.

His sorrow was depicted within his tone, his face remaining vacant at each uttered confession, “I have no flesh, no muscle, no organ: I am only bone. I have no heart, my soul is all that remains. I have nothing to offer you in this life-.” You had no choice but to break him out of his spiraling thoughts with your own argument.

“-All of those things are untrue, Brook. Aside from the physical attributes, don’t you dare reduce yourself to merely the parts you left behind,” you chastised him with your verbal warning. He was shocked at your passion, feeling the heat radiating off your body as you drew up further arguments to present to him.

“You have no lips? I am more than capable of allowing you to borrow mine,” you spoke with no hint of irony, nor jest within your tone, “No flesh, no muscle, nor organ? Those are just the tangible surroundings for the spirit within all of us. Are we not merely vessels for our souls to use as hosts?”

Brook remained speechless, hanging on your every word as the fire of your passion ignited your tongue with sparks and flashes. 

“You are only bone? No heart?” Your anger now truly evident on your features, “How dare you reduce yourself to less than all that you are,” you broke away his grip on your hands, and began to rise to your feet from the position beside him on the stool, “Your heart is your music, your soul is depicted in the care you have for your crew. I feel it, Brook.”

He cowered back against the piano, the hurdy gurdy dropping limply on the floor: discarded and abandoned. No crew spared the two of you a glance in your quarrel, choosing to remain solely fixated on the insect race, now turned into gladiator death-matches within the chalk circle.

Brook was in awe, watching your passion ignite in your eyes as you scold him with your words and bless him with your compliments. In all your encounters together: each time the Polar Tang met with the Thousand Sunny, he was entranced by your rapport and support for your crew. Your soothing words and answers to his unashamed lust presented to you had him blushing, but your attention now has him soaring with the reignition of his absent heartbeat. 

From your position now standing, you brushed off your dress and shook your head to rid the prior passion from elevating further. There were no regrets from offering him a kiss, not even the absence of his lips inhibited you from pressing your affection into his bones. At a huff of your breath, you lowered your tone to be in a kinder pitch, softening your features as you turned back towards the skeleton. 

“I will not stand for such self-degradation, especially with my occupation serving aboard the Polar Tang,” you extend your hand out to him, a soft smile slowly creeping up against your cheeks, “For what it’s worth, I adore you, Brook. I have always held you in the highest regard.” 

“The highest regard? Even with only the parts I’ve left behind?” he uttered his question barely above a whisper, seeking out further explanation within your orbs, “I am only a skeleton, afterall.” You sighed, rotating your neck atop your shoulders and stepped further towards him. Pressing a small kiss on his forehead, your lips lingered for a moment longer against his cranium before you simply walked away from him.  

Feeling truly no need to draw out an explanation for your dismissal of his question, you felt your heart break for the Soul King. You had already confessed your admiration for him, uplifted him with your words and then wordlessly expressed your affection for him with a soft kiss. The skeletal face now had several painted hoops from your pursed lips written on his bones, a memorial of love artistically indented into his absent skin. 

Staggering in his rigidity, a boney hand reached out for you as you attempted to retreat back towards your crew. His essence was screaming to unify with you, to lead you in more intentional touches against his corporeal form. 

“I-I’m sorry. I only meant-...” he circled his boney fingertips around your wrist and gently tugged you to return towards him, “...-I cannot kiss, nor embrace you, in the manner to which I desire most. The others aboard can give that which you seek, commit those acts with you. Why would you choose to engage in this way with me when there are so many others available to you?”

You exhaled slowly from your nose, turning to face the Soul-King. You stood between his parted knees, leaning down while seeking out his chin with your fingertips. Apprehensively cupping his jaw, you leant down to hold your lips a whiskers length away from his pearly teeth. 

“Because you’re who I want, Bone-Daddy,” you confessed down to him, smiling as you touched your forehead against his. He reveled in the warmth rolling from your body to his own, feeling your smile mirrored with his spirit. If he had eyelids, he would close them as you did your own within the arms of one another. 

Elevating his left hand, his slender fingers cupped your cheek and guided you in towards his skeletal mouth. Following his lead, you pressed your lips tenderly against the cool bones of his teeth, feeling the divots beneath your pursed flesh. He held your cheek against his face, tracing soothing circles over your wrist with the tips of his phalanges in his thumb. 

Cheers and an uproar of hooted hollers erupted from the three crews, tearing your attention away from one another as you witnessed an exchange of Berry from Shachi, Killer and Nami. The wagers the crews placed on the variety of small creatures in the gladiator ring were as freely given as the drinks concocted by the skilled hands of the Straw-Hat chef. 

Joining your laughs with your crews, you both held each other firmly engulfed within your arms. The Soul-King nestled his head between your breasts as you soothed your hands within his hair. After several moments remaining this way, you felt the tips of Brook’s fingers trailing curiously up your spine.

“Purple, you said?” he hummed coyly against your chest, his fingers brushing with the hem of the back of your dress, “Violet and lavender with a gold trim?” You chuckled warmly, feeling his head turn slightly in your embrace, his chin placed firmly between your breasts as he looked up at you with his jaw seeming to smile up at you.

“And corset-laced, gold ribboning in the cleavage,” you smiled, smoothing over his hair as you collected his cheek within the heel of your palm. You scrunch your nose at him, gazing through half-hooded lashes playfully down into the hollow abyss of his eye sockets.

“Would you like to see them?”

[forthegothicheroine]

My 12 best fanfics

Multiple people have tagged me to post my 10 best fanfics! I did 12 so that I could easily format a bunch of Penguin Classics covers for them. If you write fic and haven't done this yet, consider yourself tagged!

Darkest Timeline: My infamous Evil Lancelot series which I wrote in a quarantine-induced brain spiral, for which I am still expecting the Arthuriana fandom to excommunicate me. Please read the warnings, this is an emotional Dead Dove Do Not Eat.

Bride of Thorns: Morticia the gothic heroine marries Gomez the brooding hero.

The Most Poetical Topic: Jonathan "Scarecrow" Crane makes a date with a cute bookseller. Original Character Do Not Steal!

The Mel Brooks Cameo in Twin Peaks: Audrey Horne visits an old Jewish gangster. Mel Brooks worked with David Lynch on The Elephant Man, so what if they had continued their partnership?

Sir Wishbone and the Bad Day: A Wishbone episode about Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Joe getting his first detention is just like having to meet a guy to get your head cut off!

Opera Fantastique: Christine's bad reincarnation memories from the 1989 Phantom of the Opera film are just beginning.

Et in Arcadia Ego: A folk horror episode of The Prisoner. Is Six in the sway of black magic or just hallucinogens and manipulation?

Beware the Beetle: Batman has to read The Beetle by Richard Marsh when someone starts doing Beetle-themed crimes. Written for @bluestockingbaby's wonderful idea!

Gentle Wolves: A fairy tale-style confrontation between Vulpes Inculta, Craig Boone and the Courier. A fan favorite on the Fallout Kink Meme.

The Dream Journal of Lucy Westenra: Lucy has pleasant dreams of a romantic visitor which soon turn much less pleasant. My response to the idea that Lucy was 'asking for it'.

Alice in Camelot: Reading Arthurian legends can feel like reading Alice in Wonderland. Alice herself questions the logic.

Nyarlathotep: A Midrash: Moses's Pharaoh was Nyarlathotep, and Moses's miracles were dark and strange. One way or another, his people will be freed.

[steddieunderdogfics]

Need Brooks no Delay, but Late is Better Than Never by etlagiapet

@etlagiapet

Rating: Explicit

20,620 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: fifteen years later, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eddie Munson Lives, POV Steve Harrington, Misunderstandings, Angst and Feels, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Smut, The Lord of the Rings References, Angst with a Happy Ending, No beta we die like Barb

Summary:

The year is 2001. The Fellowship of the Ring is out in theaters, and Steve is being dragged along to the supposed most important day of Dustin's life. The thing is, Eddie Munson's coming, too, and Steve hasn't spoken to him in nearly six years. Not since misaligned feelings and an ill-timed love confession created a rupture Steve didn't know how to repair. - “We just drifted apart, man. That’s all.” Dustin sighs dramatically. “Was it because you figured out you liked dudes and freaked out?” Steve winces. It’s a joke. He can tell by Dustin’s tone, knows he likes to poke fun about Steve’s sexuality after he identified as a self-proclaimed ladies' man for so long, but it’s never come up this way before. Steve could deflect, but something in him shifts and instead he says, “More like because I figured it out too late.” “Ooooooh,” Dustin breathes, and Steve can all but imagine the lightbulb flashing to life above his head. It makes Steve think of Dustin’s old hat with THINKING CAP on the front. “Oh my god, that makes so much more sense."

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of our Birthday Celebration! The theme this weekend is Time Skips.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[snowbellewells]

🎃~A Little Bit Spooky Seasonal Rec List ~🎃

Hello there!  Seeing as it’s nearly Halloween, I thought I would post this themed list of fics I absolutely love that fit the season of thrills and chills, or have at least a hint of the supernatural about them. (Most do anyway, there are a couple that are just full of fall things and autumn coziness.) This is by no means extensive - no matter how much I read, I’m sure I’ll never catch all of the amazing stories our Ouat/CS fandom has to offer!! Still, here’s hoping folks may find a few "new to them" favorites for the season! Enjoy!!

**I originally made this list in 2020, so none have been taken away but more have been added in since that time.**

In no particular order...

“High Spirits” by: ReaperWriter  This story is older, but it features Emma as a former detective forced into early retirement and Killian as a medium (of sorts?). They end up investigating the rumored haunting of an old manor house in Louisiana. Thrills and chills, genuine bittersweetness and melancholy, and emotional connection ensue.  13 Chapters, Complete

“Of Dreams and Darkness” by: @oubliette14  This one is another I’ve know about for some time, and read and re-read more than once. It reminds me a little bit of the monster mash-up movie Van Helsing (though I actually like it more than that) and has Emma and Killian as vampire hunters, teaming up to take on the worst monster either has tackled yet... Long oneshot, Complete 

“Things That Go Bump” by: @brooke-to-broch  This is just a fun, festive CS celebrating Halloween in their own home with all the hilarity involved in including their friends and family - with a bit of spicy goodness between just the two of them thrown in for good measure.  Oneshot, Complete

"Into the Light", "Hotel Neverland", "The Moon...Tells the Sea", "In the Viper's Den" and "Return to Me" by: @kmomof4 It will be clear if a person has read any of these offerings already that Krystal has a knack for the vampire fics in particular, her previous @cssns event offerings "Into the Light" and "Return to Me" are just my favorite examples of that. "Hotel Neverland" and "The Moon...Tells the Sea" also contain elements of the spooky or supernatural, but just very unique and unforgettable twists that you definitely shouldn't miss. "In the Viper's Den" isn't spooky or Halloween-themed, but it does have an autumnal feel to me for some reason. It's also one of my favorites of Krystal's stories, period. So there's that too. Various Lengths, all Complete

“An American Haunting” by @welllpthisishappening I just LOVE this story. I think it was around Halloween last year that I discovered it, and I think it’s one of my favorite of Laura’s stories that I’ve read. Emma, Killian (and several other familiar OuaT faces) work at an American historical park of sorts, and though technically “just friends” pine for each other all the while. Then, one of the historical stories comes a lot closer to their present than ought to be possible, and they just might be fighting for each other’s lives...  Two Shot, Complete

“Hope is the Thing with Feathers”, “Blackbird”, “Scarborough Fair”,  and “Ivory Runs Red” by @searchingwardrobes These are some of my favorites of Melanie’s (and that’s saying something, because each new thing she posts tends to become my “new favorite” for a bit!) At any rate, these offerings all have a bit of the supernatural or spooky to them, or they just feel like they should happen in Fall. There is some lovely CaptainCobra and CaptainBook brotp in a few of these too, along with the stellar CS writing.  Various Lengths, All Complete except “Scarborough” which is a WIP.

"Ghosted" by: @jrob64 This story was Joni's offering for the @cssns23 event - and wow, was it a doozy!! It has just the right balance of spine-tingling evil ghost/spirit haunting from a properly awful Neal, and yet sweetness and trust building throughout between Killian (as a ghost hunter of sorts) and Emma (as the woman next door being haunted by her ex). Not only that, but there is lovely support from Will and Belle as Killian's team (and a potential couple in their own right). I don't want to spoil any of the thrills and chills, but if you missed this as it was posting back in July and August, definitely check this one out!! 5 Chapters, Complete

“The Man Behind Glass” and “The Prickly Witch’s Guide to Magic” both by: @shireness-says  I do believe that both of these stories were written for the first @cssns event over two years ago now.  I love both of them so much - you really can’t go wrong in checking either of them out! One features Killian as a centuries-old pirate trapped within a mirror and discovered by one little boy with a heart full of belief, and the Prickly Witch fic is a great group friendship fic as well as CS - AND it has some heartwarming hints of Jeweled Beauty (Liam x Belle) one of my favorite underrated things in fic!  Both long oneshots, Both Complete

“A Charm of Powerful Trouble” by: @spartanguard I really love this short MC in which Killian is hit with a potion that turns him into a huge wolf. I love the danger, adventure, angst, and of course the triumph of CS’s True Love in this one. It’s my favorite of all of Kaitlyn’s writings (and I love all of her writings!) I love how the whole Storybrooke crew joins in to support Killian and Emma in this as well. 5 Chapters, Complete

"Witchy Woman" by: @booksteaandtoomuchtv This story was originally written for the @cssns23 event, and I hung on every word while each new chapter was posting. I seriously couldn't get enough of this adventure of a star-crossed witch and vampire in love but attempting to stay apart, even as they both served their greater community, and could never quite manage to forget the love they'd shared. This one is not to be missed!! 10 Chapters, Complete

“The Halloween Gambit” and “Friends with the Monster That’s Under my Bed” both by: @zaharadessert Both of these fics are Halloween themed, written for Halloweek at some point, if I remember correctly. “Gambit” is very pirate-y and adventure themed, and I loved Killian getting to make a dashing rescue and Emma’s bravery and loyalty to him in it. “Monster Under the Bed” is a one shot and includes some of my favorite characters who are no longer living in show canon ;p  “Gambit” is 7 Chapters, Complete; “Monster” One Shot, Complete

“Saudade” by: @apiratewhopines This fic is so insanely BEAUTIFUL that I can’t even properly express how much love I have for it. I love that it fixes things which definitely should have been handled just the way @apiratewhopines​ does in this fic, I love the tribute it gives to Graham (not to mention he and Killian getting to meet and have an understanding in how they care for Emma), and I’m incredibly flattered that it was written for me! <3 If you are someone who loves to see bits of the Underworld arc handled more gracefully, or even if you just love a gorgeously written, bittersweet fic, you have to read this one!!  Two Shot, Complete

“Arm’d with Hell Flames and Fury all at Once” by @darkcolinodonorgasm This fic was written for 2019′s @pupstravaganza and features the most endearing version of a hellhound I imagine you’ll ever read about! :) Emma and Kilian, along with a few familiar friends are monster hunters fighting feelings for each other, but when their newest hunt gets tangled up in Killian’s tangled past, all bets are off...  2 Parts, Complete

"Can I Be Your Werewolf?", "Cautionary Tales" and "Safe Passage" by: @belovedcreation All of these fics by @belovedcreation are pretty new - in fact, "Safe Passage" was just posted this weekend and I read it just last night! One is a longer, chaptered werewolf modern AU which I simply adore (even if I need to go back and do a better job commenting on it!), one is a three part vampire fic, and the last is a zombie-adjacent one shot! The fact that I even braved something at all related to zombies tells you just how much I love @belovedcreation's writing. Check all of these out!! All Complete stories

“Some Legends are Best Kept as Legends” / “Varcolac” / “Ghost in the Void” by @hollyethecurious Okay, so I know you are getting three stories for the price of one here, but I couldn’t choose between them. Two of these are from @cssns events: “Some Legends...” samples a bit of Irving’s “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” in inspiration, but going on it’s own decidely amazing course from their with Killian as a man out of time, the myth of the Dark One, and the power of a true believer’s heart; “Varcolac” blends werewolf and vampire characters and mythology in such an interesting way for a pulse-pounding story plot and a powerful love story. “Ghost in the Void” features a ghost (as you might expect) reaching from the beyond to connect with the lonely human tenet of “his” house for a story that will absolutely stay with you.  6 Parts, Complete (Legends) / 5 Parts, Complete (Varcolac) / Oneshot, Complete (Ghost)

“a house is never still” by: @capnjay21  Honestly, I don’t even know what to say about this story, or how to describe it without giving too much away.  I could say it’s a haunted house story on the surface, but it’s SO MUCH MORE than that. It gives us a young Emma and Killian and their friends and a heartwrenching backstory to set the scene, a truly haunting and spine-tingling mystery, melancholy and loss, and wondering if it can ever be made right.  It’s just stunning - and you really should check it out for yourself instead of listen to my floundering around trying to sell it. Plus, a sequel as just begun posting!!    6 Chapters, Complete

“the very witching time” by: @profdanglaisstuff Another @cssns entry originally this story features witch!Emma and her loyal and cunning canine companion, whom she took in and treated from a traumatic injury. Little does she know how much more than a normal dog he will prove to be... ;)  Not only that, but the atmosphere, the history, and the unfolding plot in this will just sweep you up and you won’t want to stop until it’s finished.  Don’t miss it!!  6 Parts (and a connected oneshot), Complete

“break me” by: @thisonesatellite Oh my goodness! How could I not list this story?!? I still can’t get over how much I love it (when normally I would have run the other way from all the scary baddies and monsters who go ‘bump in the night’ in this fic?) It led me to all the rest of Stephanie’s writing, and I really haven’t surfaced since! ;p There are vampires, werewolves, monster hunters, monsters I didn’t even know about, and in the midst of all that two people find each other and just might be the only inspiration that can help them fight to the other side of all the odds standing against them. 12 Chapters + an epilogue, Complete

“An Education in Southern Gothic” by: @searchingwardrobes Man alive, I almost missed this one! This entry into the @cssns19 event has just the right about of thrills and chills without becoming too much for a definite chicken like me. I honestly can’t resist Killian as a teacher/professor, which Melanie gives us here, and the mystery surrounding the school, as well as the still very real threat reaching its claws into the present will make you unable to stop reading this one until you reach the end. There’s friends to love, pining, suspense, supernatural danger, both Captain Cobra and Captain Book friendship, and just everything you could want in a fic really!  Two Parts, Complete

“Magical Rings and Mystical Doughnuts” / “Storybrooke Haunted Farms” / “Life Meant Nothing Until You Used My Toothbrush” by: @let-it-raines  All three of these stories are nice one shots with some length that you can really get drawn into and honestly never want to surface from! “Mystical Doughnuts...” will always have a special spot in my heart because it was the first story of Raines’ that I discovered and it lead to a lovely commenting and chat back and forth session and all her other stories that have made me smile so many times over since then! “Storybrooke Farms” is just a fun modern AU with yes CS but all the rest of the OuaT gang involved in humorous and adorable support, and then “Life Meant Nothing...” (originally written for a @csseptembersunshine event) is one of my favorite of Raines’ MANY awesome stories. I love the cozy small town feel of it, how it’s a bit of a mash-up with Gilmore Girls, and the friendship Emma and Killian have and the way it finally becomes romantic for them as well. :)  All oneshots, All Complete

“Happily Ever After” by: @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ There’s a lovely Fall Festival setting to this modern au, starring Emma and Killian as rival bakers - with lots of chemistry cooking beyond the kitchen! It’s as sweet as the apple desserts each are vying to make the winner, and you will absolutely be grinning and giddy with enjoyment by the end. :)  Don’t miss it!!   7 Chapters, Complete

"Not All Treasure is Silver and Gold (Sometimes it's Chocolate)" by: @stahlop This lovely one shot featuring Killian, future CS children, and adorable trick or treating in Storybrooke is simply irresistible! Incredibly sweet one shot you can read in one sitting, but without the calories of Halloween candy! This one will have you smiling from ear-to-ear, trust me! :) One Shot, Complete

“How to Carve a Pumpkin (Not Yourself)” by: @thislassishooked  This story is just all the sweetness and meet cute and perfection one could pack into a fall-themed or Halloween story!  I love the way Emma and Killian find each other in this, her friends pushing her and helping the possible match along, Henry’s involvement, the artsy pumpkins, the fun and small town humor - just all of it! And - bonus - if you aren’t ready to let go of this ‘verse when you finish, there’s a Thanksgiving follow-up!  Oneshot, Complete

"Fields of Asphodel" by: @anmylica This chaptered fic takes us on a journey through 5b and the trip to the Underworld that is gripping and unforgettable. I genuinely get so excited when it updates and can't wait to see what might be coming up next. This is still a WIP in progress, but don't let that put you off. It's wonderfully well done and much more what I would have liked to have seen - much more spooky and haunting and emotionally satisfying - than canon ended up being in much of that arc. 9 Chapters, WIP

"post mortem" by: @exhaustedpirate Oh my goodness, this fic!! I can't say enough about it, and I don't quite know how to explain the plot without giving too much away, but I really do adore it and want to give it a shoutout in this post. Killian is what I might refer to as a ghost whisperer of sorts - spirits/ghosts can contact him because he can see and hear them and help them try to settle their unfinished business. Emma is a ghost that needs his help. There's a fun school setting, Belle is a wonderful supporting character as the school librarian, and Henry is also used in this to wonderful effect. This is still in progress as well, but there's really only one more part to go. Definitely check this one out - you won't be able to get it out of your head!!! 2 parts of an intended 3, WIP

"A Crystalline Knowledge of Love and Magic" by: @xarandomdreamx The movie Practical Magic has always seemed like it would make for an excellent OuaT/CS AU and I adore Taryn for actually giving it to us. I love the OuaT characters she has chosen to include in the various roles, the way this story has begun, how everyone is characterized, just all of it together!! I'm a huge fan of her writing in general, and though this one is still in progress, I can already tell it's going to be a favorite!! If you love Practical Magic, or are just looking for a Fall-flavored fic with romance, magic, mystery and sisterhood, this is the one for you! 2 Chapters at present, WIP

Tagging: @jennjenn615 @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic @ultraluckycatnd @lfh1226-linda @kday426

[throneofrayllum]

Lab Partners headcannons. Yes. You heard me.

Soyona had wanted Brooklynn dead for...obvious reasons, but when she had been doing research on Brook, she couldn't help but feel sorry she had to die. The girl had ambition, smarts, and wouldn't take no for an answer. She had also just happened to fall down a rabbit hole of Brooklynn's social media and hated to admit it but she found Brooklynn to be gorgeous.

When Brooklynn first saw who the broker was whilst spying, her first thought was "Holy fuck she's hot"

Brooklynn had scared Soyona. Not many people could do that. When Brooklynn had the clicker in her hand, Soyona had genuinely feared for her life. She liked that Brooklynn was able to scare her, even if she later realized the girl had no murderous bone in her body.

They don't trust each other fully, how could they? (especially Brooklynn). But they feel drawn to each other. Attracted. Soyona doesn't really mind the attraction, but Brooklynn? She hates it. How could she want someone who's done such awful things? Who literally tried to kill her? what?

Soyona does feel for Brooklynn, she notices when Brooklynn drinks a bit too much in an attempt to numb her pain, or the sound of muffled sobbing that comes from the guest room some nights.

Soyona enjoys watching Brooklynn marvel at her way of life. She secretly likes spoiling Brooklynn too.

Soyona lets Brooklynn wear her clothes because all she has are her jeans and t shirts, and they're relatively the same size. When Soyona took Brooklynn to an event she let Brooklynn borrow a suit (she threatened to take away Brooklynn's access to the liquor cabinet if she spilled on the suit).

Brooklynn is surprised to feel both flustered and...jealous when Soyona brings a woman home from a bar. She had just been finishing up some case files when Soyona waltzed in with a beautiful red head whom she brought straight to her room and shut the door. Seriously? Couldn't she have gone to rando lady's place?

The next afternoon, Brooklynn was bent over her desk, rummaging through files when Soyona ran her hand up Brooklynn's spine and whispered "You were Jealous last night." Brooklynn had scoffed, although a blush crept into her cheeks. "No I wasn't." She snapped. Soyona clicked her tongue, "So defensive." Before Soyona walked away she kissed the back of Brooklynn's neck.

The first time Soyona and Brook...y'know, Soyona had been painting Brooklynn. Soyona had once again felt like something was missing from the painting. "Take off the dress.", Soyona instructed. Brooklynn went red. "What?" She looked like she couldn't understand what language Soyona was speaking. "Take off your dress, it is not needed for this painting." Brooklynn felt nervous, but obeyed. When she was finally just in her underwear and bra, she raised her eyebrows at Soyona. "This what you want?" Soyona smirked, "Very much so." She continued to paint, but Brooklynn was hot all over. Soyona sighed, "I know you want me." Brooklynn snorted, "Yeah, right." Soyona stood from her seat and went to stand directly in front of Brooklynn. "Don't deny yourself. I know what your apprehension is about. But let me assure you, dear, just because you want me does not mean you have to love me. You would not be betraying anyone." Brooklynn looked into Soyona's eyes. "Fine, maybe your right. But what about you? Do you want me?" Soyona knelt before Brooklynn and ran her hands up Brooklynn's thighs. "What do you think, love?" AND THEN DOT DOT DOT

(please tell me you understand what I did with the "dot dot dot" mamma mia reference - it just means they bang)

HELP I'VE IMPLIED SOME SEXUAL THEMES IN KENLYNN HEADCANNONS/FICS BEFORE BUT I THINK THIS IS THE MOST RISQUE MY POSTS HAVE EVER GOTTEN

it's really pretty tame but still. Also WHY did this kinda turn into a fic?

[romanarose]

About a Girl: Chapter 5

Beautiful header by my beloved @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Joel Miller x Trans!Fem!Reader (Nickname, Blue)

Series Masterlist : The Last of Us Masterlist : Full Masterlist

Summary: For week 3 of my pride event: Sex. Joel and Blue make everything official. Kayla ruins everything.

ADDITIONAL WARNING: Sorry ya'll this just happened with the story and it felt right for what was happening and the characters.. Warning for brief DV nothing extreme or detailed.

Warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter: 18+ ONLY!! I cannot warn against everything, but these are major themes. Joel is a lil ignorant but not out of hate. He just doesn't know. He's trying his best. There will be smut. Penetrative sex, all of the anal play, oral. There will be transphobia from other people. Addiction and alcoholism. QUICK child neglect not by Joel but I promise, Sarah is fine and is having a great time in life. Fetishization of women attracted to women by a shitty guy. Will update as needed. Again, this is adult content. Expect adult content.

Immersivity: Reader is transgender, AMAB female, reader has had gotten bottom surgery, not top, and is on hormones. reader has visible hair and a blue streak in hair, but not described. Could be braids, could be natural hair, whatever. Header is for aesthetics only. Reader is about Joel and Tommy's height. Let me know if i miss anything!

A/N: Not to sound like a 2012 wattpad writer but I cried writing this.

TRANS LIVES MATTER! TRANS YOUTH MATTER! TRANS ELDERLY MATTER! TRANS WOMEN MATTER! TRANS MEN MATTER! NON BINARY TRANS MATTER!

Things had been going well for weeks. Kayla had been taking Sarah on weekends consistently, which meant she didn’t have a man to distract her. This, however, meant she didn’t have a man to distract her away from Joel’s love life. Still, a little bit of boundary setting had done well for him, and Kayla had mostly been minding her business. Joel was able to see Blue every weekend, and was even able to spend more time with Tommy and Tess which was rare. 

Tonight, he had just got done having dinner at your house and was cuddling on the couch with you in his arms, all wrapped up. He liked moments like this a lot. Don’t get him wrong, he’d gone to another show with you and had a good time, but he was definitely happy to just sit at home with you.

You’d seemed an unlikely pair, you and him. You liked leather and black and grunge. He liked country and jeans and… well he wasn’t really sure what he really ”liked”, honestly. He loved Sarah. He liked All That, he liked Arthur, he didn't like Barney, he liked Franklin… what did he watch when Sarah was in bed? Sleep. He mostly slept. Sometimes he watched King of the Hill… he listened to Clinton Black, Garth Brooks… Sarah liked Reba, which was nice. Things to do for fun? He liked to play the guitar for Sarah. He liked to go to the park with Sarah. He liked to go with Sarah and Tommy to the roller rink… 

“I’d like yuh to meet Sarah.” Joel said against your ear, arms wrapped around your waste as he lay propped up against the arm rest. “Really meet her this time”

You paused, then sat up to turn and face him. You were smiling softly, eyes wide. “Really? I don’t want you to feel like you have to… but I’d love too…” Something hit you, making you bite your lip. “Introduce me as… what, exactly.” When you saw his eyes widen, you told him he didn’t have to pick a label right now, but he cut you off.

“My girlfriend. If you wanna.”

You squeal, returning to his arms for a hug and a kiss. “Yes!!!”

Joel returns the kiss, pulling you close, sliding a hand to the small of your back as you deepened the kiss, straddling his body. You and him had been making out, and of course the blow job outside the concert, but no sex. Not yet…

“Stay the night.” You whispered between kisses. “We don’t gotta do nothing you’re not ready for, but I’d love if you wanted to stay over”

Joel looked up at you, heart swelling faster than his cock in his pants. He reached up to touch your face. “I’m ready… only if you wanna”

You responded by grinding your cunt over his jeans, kissing him once more. You slide your tongue into his mouth, dominating the kiss and him. When you make it to the bedroom, Joel follows your lead, letting you press him up against the door as you fiddle with his belt. “Got any- mphhh- got any questions?”

His brow furrowed, looking a little confused and flushed. “With what? I don’t know if you know this, but I ain’t a virgin. Kid and all.”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” You chuckle. “I meant with the whole ‘not born with a vagina’ thing.”

The look on his face told you he forgot about that. “Oh. Um… I guess… can you… um…”

“Orgasm?!?!” You bawked, in disbelief that at the prospect of having sex with a transwomen, something he barely knew existed before you, and he’s concerned if you’re going to have a good time. “Yes, I can orgasm Joel. I got a fucked ton of lube by my drawer too, so we’re covered there, baby. Just.” you sigh, guiding him to the bed as you pull down his pants. “Sweetie,” You coo, his big brown eyes gazing adoringly as you return to your rightful place above him. “Just let me take care of you tonight, ‘kay? I got you.”

Awestruck, you nodded. “Yes ma’am.” In his dark boxer briefs, his cock is straining, heavy.

You slowly pull his briefs down, Joel humps his hips up to help and you stare in aw as his cock strings free. He’s hung, absolutely packing and you can see why Tess came back for a few more rounds. Getting a chance to look at him, really look at him this time… Big dick, big eyes, big man… bigger heart. He’s soft, kind. He’s gentle in a way you’d never seen from a southern farmer, a body capable of total destruction if he wanted to, but no room in his heart for it. You couldn’t imagine your sweet, precious man hurting anyone.

When you took him in your mouth, you couldn’t make it all the way down. You’d practice on tat, vowing to be able to deep throat him, but it didn’t seem to matter. He was a mess already. When was the last time he fucked someone? It’d been a few years since Tess and she never mentioned Joel having a girl since Kayla… You wanted to make him feel good. But Joel had other plans. 

“Wanna taste you.” He begs, tugging at your hair. “Really wanna taste you, Blue, please?” Joel is practically whimpering at you like a puppy and god, who are you to deny him? 

“You ever had someone sit on your face, Joel?”

He nods. Good, you didn’t wanna freak him out. He’s not a virgin, but you didn’t think he was the most experienced either. “Stay there.”

You spread your legs over his face, carefully lowering yourself on him when he surprises you by grabbing your thighs and yanking you down. “Hungry boy” You chuckle, delighted with his excitement. He shows no interest in the slight scarring, if he was even paying enough attention to notice; he seemed preoccupied.

Joel devoured you whole, moving and working with your body as you ground yourself on his face. He felt good, he knew what he was doing, that was for sure. Even if he didn’t get out much, he certainly had the enthusiasm. “Fuck Joel, just like that… Just like that…” You’re sure to make sure he knows he’s doing good, you weren’t going to get wet on your own. His nose nudges along your fold as he sucks on your clit when you bend over, jacking him off. You’d love to 69 him -he deserved it- but you didn’t want him orgasming too soon, and the poor guy was already looking like he was just barely hanging on as it was. You cum in his mouth, shouting out his name as you grip his perfect cock tightly, so tight you can’t believe he didn’t spurt all over your hand but you would have forgiven him if he had with the feeling he gave you. Riding his nose and putty lower lip until you’re done taking all your pleasure. 

When you flop over on the bed, Joel is on you in a second, lips sucking in yours desperately. He needs you, you can tell, but won’t ask for it. Joel isn’t the kind to take. He’s a giver. If you asked him to eat you out again he would, and would, and would until you’re ran dry and he’d just lay there, cock hard, cleaning you up. Because that was Joel. 

But you weren’t going to do that to him. Because he deserved to know he was worthy of love, pleasure, happiness.

When you drop on top of him, encasing him in your lubed up, warm cunt. He opens you in a way you’ve never felt before, making you moan onto the stubbled jaw you were kissing, making you whimper in such a way he asked if you were okay. No one on this earth was a better man than Joel Miller.

You rode him, hands pressed against his firm pecs and stomach rubbing against his softness. All the lifting in the world wasn’t going to work his abs, and the man was living off junk and the real food Frank made for lunch. He’s soft around the edges. Joel is a whiny, moaning mess and you savor every single second of it. Breathing in his shuttered exhales, letting it be your breath of life no matter how your legs burned as you bounced. Thumbs to soft inner thighs, you gave until your heart burst.

“I love you.” You blurt out, voice shaking as you admit your feelings, perhaps too soon. You hold your breath, closing your eyes tight as your brace for rejection, or even more scary; his devotion. Upright and spearing yourself on his sweet dick, you continue your movements blindly.

Until you feel him rise up.

Joel surged towards you, wrapping your body up in one arm and gripping the back of your neck with the other hand. Chest to chest, lips to lips, body to warm, adoring body.

“I love you,” He fucks his hips up into your body, muttering against your lips and cheek. “I love you so much, Blue.” And you believe him. 

Joel comes inside after you beg him for it. One orgasm is enough for you, you generally can’t twice but Joel does have you doubting that. He fills you up, clutching your ass and shoulders to him with fingers in your skin and face buried in your neck.

*

You wake up to your landline ringing. 

“Hello?” You answer quietly, but Joel stirs anyway.

On the other side, you hear Tommy. “Hey Blue, Joel with you?”

“Yeah, everything okay?”

Joel is up, eyes wide recognizing his brother's voice. He likes the phone from you. “Tommy? You alright?”

“Jesus Joel, had me worried. Kayla called damn near every bar in town trying to get a hold of me.”

“Shit.” Joel mutters, sitting on the side of the bed. “Sarah okay?”

Tommy said he didn’t know, but Kayla had been trying to call him. Joel hung up, searching for his phone. After calling Sarah good night, it fell under the bed.

You watch him frantically call Kayla, being sure to keep quiet. You know his ex can get jealous and he doesn’t need more stress. He’s so clearly worried, and you are too. It’s 1:30 am, if Kayla is calling then something is wrong with Sarah. “Whats wrong? Where’s Sarah?”

“She won’t stop crying, Joel.” Kayla snaps at him. Is she just calling because Sarah’s crying?

Joel scrubs his face. “Kayla, did you try comforting her?”

“Of course I did, you fucking asshole” You didn’t like how she speak to Joel, and you seethed in your anger, mouth still shut. “She won’t stop screaming. You need to pick her up, I can’t fucking do this.”

Joel sighs, standing up. You begin gathering his things for him. He’s butt naked, dick swinging. “Jesus, okay, I’ll come get her. Just go hold her, okay? She gets scared at night.”

Kayla snapped at him, saying she’s aware. 

He turns to you, apologetic. “I’m so-”

“Don’t you dare fucking apoligise, cowboy.” You toss him his briefs. “Sarah comes first, always. I’d do the same if I had a kid.”

He mumbles, redressing. “She always does this. Begs and cries about never seeing her, but sends her back early. Breaks Sarah’s little heart, you know? The uncertainty. She always dressed up so cute to see her mom, always brings her best art she makes at kindergarten, picture books she can read… even pretends to like Mariah Carey when she used to make me change the station. I can’t fucking take it.”

Your heart hurts for Sarah and Joel. Your own mom and dad never got you, even before coming out as trans or gay. You just were never right in their eyes. Years later, you start to think it was more about them than it was you. Who you are now is who you were always meant to be. You are happy. They are still miserable.

“Go get your daughter, Joel.” You kiss his cheek after he pulls his boots on. “Call me in the morning, or whenever you have time.”

He pauses, stopping to wrap his arms around you, strong and safe. “I meant every single word I said, Blue. I love you.”

“I know.” And you did.

*

After speeding on the empty roads, Joel makes it in record time, parking in front of some jacked up truck and  knocking on the door. He didn’t want to ring in case Sarah fell back asleep. The door flung open to reveal and frazzled Kayla. “About time, she’s been screaming non stop!” She opened the door and Joel looked inside, not seeing her but hearing her scream frantically. Kayla was dressed in a flownsy night top and panties, makeup lightly on like she kept when she first started sleeping over at Joel’s parents.

“Where is she?” He follows the sound of her cries. She sounds absolutely batshit terrified, calling mommy, mommy, mommy. He’s unfamiliar with Kayla place. “Sarah? Where are you baby girl?”

The mommy’s switched to daddy’s with renewed vigor and Joel quickly found the room, running to it but finding the bedroom door locked. He jiggled it, hearing Sarah’s voice on the other end of sobbing for him. Something was wrong. “It’s okay, baby girl. I’m here. Daddy’s here.” He tried to sound calm but turned to Kayla, furious. “Why is the door locked.”

“Don’t raise your voice at-”

“KAYLA UNLOCK IT!”

Kayla grabbed the key from a table nearby, explaining as she unlocked it, Joel’s voice reassuring Sarah she was safe it was okay. 

“She had a nightmare, said she saw you and Tommy die on that stupid fucking farm. Wouldn’t shut the fuck up when I tried to tell her you’re-”

As soon as it was unlocked Joel burst in, dropping to his knees to scoop up his baby and soothe her. Sarah continued to cry, but relief to it.

“I’m okay, my baby. I’m okay, so is uncle Tommy. I promise.” His hands felt her shampoo or conditioner soupy residue in there. Joel told her not to wash Sarah’s hair, that it was washed the night before but she didn’t listen. Kayla never took time with washing it, rinsing it properly.

After getting the number of the last bar that Kayla found Tommy at, he got a hold of his brother when Sarah was yet to be reassured her beloved uncle was alive.

“See Sare-Bear! I’m right as rain! I even promise to make you chocolate chip pancakes in the morning, even if your dad says no, okay?”

Sarah niffles, still clearly shook up and visible shaking in her barbie nightie, but better. “O-okay. You promise you’re not hurt?”

“Not one bit, never been better. Want me to come home?”

“No… no…” But she didn’t sound certain.

Once Sarah was reassured, Joel scooped her up. She clung to her dad, clutching his shirt in her little hands. Joel turned to Kayla with a glare. “You locked my daughter in her room when she thought her dad and uncle were D-E-A-D?” He spelled out, making Kayla roll her eyes. 

“You cuddle her too much, you and Tommy both. She needs to learn to cry it out.”

“One, she’s 5 and had a horrible nightmare. Two, you literally called me!” Then, Joel heard a thump coming from another room and it made sense now. The truck, Kayla underwear and makeup. “Kayla. Do you have a man in the house right now?”

She looked like she was about to lie, then thought better of it. “What I do with my home is none of your business.”

He tried to keep calm, chest rising and falling in anger against Sarah, still gently sniffing. They had an agreement on this. “How long have you known this man.”

She crossed her arms defensively, “A few weeks.”

His jaw ticked. “You brought a man you barely know to sleep over while my daughter is here?” In anger, he turned around, walking to the door but Kayla shouted after him.

“Relax Joel! This ain’t even the first time! Sarah likes him, he’s nice, he-”

Whipping around, Joel took long footsteps towards Kayla, clutching Sarah who had begun crying again. Sarah knew when a fight was happening. “How long as this been going on? Do you leave her alone with him?” Then he realized… if Sarah met him, and never mentioned him… he took a deep breath. “Kayla. Did you tell my child not to tell her father about a man? Did you seriously tell her to keep a secret from me?”

Joel never ever said. “don’t tell mom.” Ever. His heart raced in fear about the potition she was put in. If Sarah didn’t think she could tell him about the man, if anything happened, she’d keep that a secret too.

“Joel, it’s not a -”

“Don’t! No more sleepovers Kayla! No more of this until you can stop doing stupid-”

Seeing the slap coming and bracing for it was the only thing keeping his face from rolling into Sarah’s head. His eyes remained closed, blurring with tears. Not of pain, but humiliation. Knowing Sarah just heard her mom hit her dad. He’d always managed to keep that shit away from her… 

“What, are you gonna cry now?” She mocked, but Joel wouldn’t have it.

“Sarah, sweetie, say goodbye to mommy. We’re going home.”

Sarah waved goodbye, but didn’t speak. Joel took her into the car and buckled her safely in, pulling a blanket over her legs in her nightie. He’d send Tommy to get the rest of her things tomorrow. Right now, he needed to get Sarah home.

Joel laid in bed with her, holding Sarah close to him on the twin bed. He tried to lull her back to sleep, but she hadn’t stopped sniffling and gently crying the whole ride back, even as Joel tried to distract her. 

“Why doesn’t mommy like me?” Sarah mumbled against Joel’s arm, her back to his chest.

“Oh baby…” He kissed her hair. “Your mommy loves you so, so much. She and I think you’re just the coolest kid ever.”

She thought on this for a while. “You know the bird I made in kindergarten? Where I glued the feathers?”

“Yes baby, I remember.”

“And the sheet where I wrote my name 5 times?”

“I remember, it looked so good.”

“I brought them… and last night I saw them in the trash.”

Joel’s eyes welled up with tear, tucking his face into her hair to hide it. “It must be an accident, Sarah. We get so many bills, it probably just got lost in the piles.”

“I put it on the fridge for her.”

“It must have fallen…” Joel hated lying to her, but… “You know, just the other day your mom called me to tell me how she’s so proud of you. How she thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the whole world and so, so smart.”

Sarah’s bedroom door cracked open, Tommy appearing.

“Hey Sare-bear” He spoke gently. “Got room for me?”

Joel scooched over and saw Sarah smiling for the first time. Daddy was comfort, but Uncle was joy. “Yes!!”

As Tommy took off his boots and jacket, Joel enlisted him to his lie. “Tommy, remember how her mom was telling us how proud she is of Sarah?” 

Tommy got the jist. “Oh yeah, she’s always talk’n ‘bout you. Can’t get her to stop, really. Says you know more about dinosaurs than anyone else on the planet.”

“Yeah! Because I saw Jurassic Park!”

Joel shot Tommy a look but let it slide. At least Tommy doesn’t tell Sarah to keep secrets. “Yup. See baby? She loves you so much.”

“Good” Sarah yawned. “Because I love mommy. I wanna be just like her when I grow up.”

The three of them fell asleep like that on the twin bed. Sarah snuggled right up in her daddy’s arms, uncle Tommy on the other end holding her little hand. 

In the morning, Tommy made them all chocolate chip pancakes.

Lets get on the fight Kayla club!!!!!

Tommy loves his neice....

Sarah is perfectly safe, I promise.

please lmk your thoughts!!!! Thanks for all the cool works with this pride event!!!

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[tightjeansjavi]

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

**ON HIATUS**

Summary: Joel Miller has been a mystery in your eyes since the first time you met one stormy fall morning. Your life after meeting Joel, and his partner Tess, will forever be changed. Do flowers blossom, where thorns once grew tall? Or are you forever burning in a hopeless dream of living a life at peace.

Pairing | Joel Miller x f!oc Gwen Brooks

Fic Warnings: age gap (Gwen is in her late 20’s early 30’s Joel is in his 50’s) canon typical violence, angst, trauma, PTSD, Joel is an asshole for the first few chapters, protective! Joel, unrequited love, guilt, resentment, arguments, pining, smut, PTSD, alcohol, drugs, graphic depictions of violence/wounds caused by violence, death, suicide (Bill and Frank) fighting for survival, mean! Joel, darkish! Joel, panic attacks, flashbacks, this is a post-outbreak fic. There are dark themes that may be triggering, please read with caution.

Joel Miller × Reader Playlist

Gwen & Joel Artwork

Gwen’s F/C

The Prologue -

Endings Create New Beginnings: BIAHD, the prologue part 1

Endings Create New Beginnings: part 2 (final part)

Part 1 | 16 chapters

Boston QZ part 1

Boston QZ part 2

Boston QZ part 3

Boston QZ part 4

Boston QZ part 5 - Long Long Time

Boston QZ part 6 - hoax

Boston QZ part 7 - illicit affairs

Boston QZ part 8 - Dust to Dust

Boston QZ part 9 - Rescue

Boston QZ part 10 - Safe & Sound

Boston QZ part 11 - NFWMB

Boston QZ part 12 - Hearts Don’t Break Around Here

Boston QZ part 13 - I can’t breathe

Boston QZ part 14 - Chest infect me waste my days

Boston QZ part 15 - They See Right Through Me

Part 16 - Four Hands Bloodied

Gwen’s letter to Joel : The Skeletons I Wanted to Bury

Part 2: In the Warmth of Your Love

part 1 - can’t quit you, baby

Part 3: Drowning in an Endless Sea

Part 4: In the Strength of Your Arms

Part 5: Dog Days Are Over

[cariantha]

Talk is Cheap (2/2)

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Warning: Mentions of pregnancy Category: AU; Angst (with a happy ending) Word count: 2.7K Prompt: What would have been the outcome if Sawyer had discovered that she was pregnant whilst Ethan was in the Amazon? A/N: The theme song for this fic is “Go Get Her” by Restless Road.

Part One

It took Sawyer two days and ten chewed up fingernails to work up the courage to call. And it took three unanswered calls to realize that her heart wasn’t done breaking. 

“Ethan, it’s Sawyer. Please call me as soon as you get this message. I really need to talk to you.”

Ethan listened to the message several times. There were only two possible reasons for her call: something was wrong, or she wanted to talk about them. The only clue he had, her shaky and hesitant voice, was not enough to go on. Worried that weeks of strategic silence and self-inflicted loneliness would be for nothing, he determined that the safest course of action was to call his mentor. Speaking to Naveen would rule out several of the “something wrong” scenarios that were racing through his anxious mind. 

Ring, ring. “Hello, Ethan. It has been a while,” Naveen answered. The two hadn’t spoken since the video call that ended with Sawyer darting away from his office in tears.

“Naveen. How are you? How have you been feeling?”

“I’m fine, son.” 

“Did you have your check-up with Baz this month?”

“I did. My labs were normal.”

“Good… that’s good… uh, how’s the team?”

“They are managing quite well, and June is taking full advantage of her time at the helm,” Naveen chuckled.

“I don’t doubt it. And the interns? Have they killed anyone while I’ve been away?”

“The interns?” Ethan’s attempt at small talk was already suspicious, but asking about the interns was a dead giveaway. “Or one in particular?” Naveen pressed. 

Giving up his pretense, Ethan confessed, “She left me a vague message. I was concerned that something had happened. That one of you might be sick or hurt.”

“I think it’s safe to say she’s hurt, Ethan,” Naveen challenged. 

“You know that’s not what I meant. Is she okay? Has there been any more backlash from the trial? Has Nash been harassing her?”

An exasperated Naveen sighed, “I don’t know the reason for her call, Ethan. And even if I did, I would tell you to speak with her yourself. Tell me, how are you planning to work together if you’re not on speaking terms?”

“Our relationship will return to that of a strictly professional one. Working together on your case, sharing that secret… the lines got blurred and I let things go too far. It was the result of heightened stress and frequent exposure to-”

“Bullshit,” Naveen interjected.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. We both know if that’s all it was, you wouldn’t have bothered to call me. You wouldn’t care this much. Now, swallow your pride like that over-priced whiskey you drink and call her.”

<><><><><><><><><><>

The following day, Sawyer stood outside of Naveen’s office. “Hi Danielle, any chance the chief has some free time in the next day or two?”

“Let me check his schedule, Dr. Brooks,” the assistant answered, clicking her computer mouse.

“Sawyer? Is that you out there?” Naveen called from inside his office. “Come on in.”

Sawyer offered a thankful smile to Danielle and then stepped into Naveen’s office, closing the door behind her. “Thanks for giving me a few minutes.”

“I can always spare a few for my grand-mentee.” He gestured to one of the seats in front of his desk. “What’s on your mind, dear?”

Sawyer took a grounding breath, then proceeded. “A lot actually. I, uh…” She paused, nervously biting her bottom lip. Then as if ripping off a Band-Aid, she came right out with it. “What is the policy for taking a leave of absence? And if I did, how would that impact my fellowship?”

Naveen pursed his lips, mentally diagnosing the situation. “Well, that depends on the type of leave being requested.”

Sawyer hung her head for a moment, and when she looked up, her eyes were glassy. “Maternity leave.” 

He followed her eyes when they shifted to a picture displayed on the hutch behind him, confirming his suspicion. Naveen hoped that Ethan had taken his advice last night. With a sympathetic air, he leaned forward and folded his hands. "Does he know?"

She shook her head and bit her lips, trying to prevent the spill of tears. “He hasn’t returned my calls," she finally managed.

“I’m so sorry, dear. Is there anything you need? Anything I can do for you?”

Sawyer reached for a tissue. “I just need to know what my options are.”

He nodded.

“And if it comes to it… the process for transferring my residency.”

He couldn’t help the frown on his face. “Of course.” A short while later, with a hug and another offer of support, Naveen said goodbye to Sawyer. 

"Danielle, would you mind letting Dr. Cyrus know that I am running a few minutes behind?" Closing his door for privacy, he retrieved his phone from the pocket of his white lab coat.

Later that night, in his tiny studio apartment in Atalaya, Peru, Ethan sat on the edge of the bed and scrolled through his phone contacts. He stared at Sawyer’s profile picture for a long while, gathering the strength to stay firm in his resolve, while also preparing for the worst. If she was sick, he would call in every favor he was owed. If she was moving on with someone new, he would hate it, but wouldn’t interfere with her happiness. If she was quitting… leaving… he would break. 

With his thumb hovering over the call button, he was startled when the phone pinged. Tapping on the notification, he read the incoming lines of text and quickly realized that he had not anticipated this scenario.

In her bedroom in her Boston apartment, Sawyer paced back and forth. The word “Read” appeared after the last line of her text message and she anxiously chewed on her thumbnail waiting for any kind of response. Preferably a call, but she would settle for three bouncing dots and a few lines of text. A half hour later, accepting the silence as his response, she powered off her phone and tossed it aside. Curling up in her bed, she cried herself to sleep.

In those same thirty minutes, Ethan stared at the sonogram picture and choked back tears. His knee bounced up and down nervously, carefully considering what to say and do to make things right. When he finally pushed the green call button, he immediately heard her voice on the other end of the line. “Hi there, you’ve reached Sawyer. Leave me a message.” He redialed several more times, but each time it went straight to voicemail. “Dammit!”

Ethan stood and raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. He spun around taking in his humble surroundings, considering his current obligations. “To hell with it.” After calling for a ride, he tossed his phone on the bed and began shoving his belongings into his open suitcase.

An hour later, from the backseat of a taxi, Ethan made another call. “Dr. Stehl, it’s Ethan Ramsey. I’m sorry to do this, but something has come up back home in Boston. A family emergency. I’m on my way to the airport now…”

After twenty-four hours of cramped bus rides and connecting flights, and a quick stop at home to freshen up, Ethan stood outside of Sawyer’s apartment door. Taking a deep, calming breath first, he knocked.

Elijah greeted him a half minute later. “Dr. Ramsey? I didn’t know you were back.”

“Yes, just. Is Sawyer here?”

Elijah moved backward and gestured for him to enter, assuming that Sawyer was already expecting him. It wouldn’t have been the first time she entertained Dr. Ramsey in their apartment, after all. It would also explain why she passed on going to Donahue’s with the other roommates for “Ladies Night” half-priced drinks. “She’s in her room. You remember which one, right?”

Ethan nodded. “Thank you.”

“By the way, I like the beard,” Elijah remarked, closing the door. “Maybe I should try to grow one so my patients won’t think I’m fifteen anymore.” 

“Hmph,” Ethan huffed in amusement as he moved deeper into the quiet apartment. 

He inhaled and exhaled slowly before gently knocking on the last door at the end of the hall, the door to Sawyer’s room. Though light emanated from underneath the door, there was no answer. He knocked again, and when she still didn’t answer, he carefully turned the doorknob and peeked inside. 

Sawyer was fast asleep, hugging a pillow close to her body.

Quietly shutting the door behind him, he softly padded to the side of her bed and carefully sat on the edge. Her laptop lay open behind her. On the screen, an application for residency at the Mayo Clinic in Arizona, which made Ethan’s stomach sink.

Odds were she hated him at this point. Despite the risk, he reached out to touch her. Tenderly skimming his fingers along her hairline, he brushed a few loose strands out of the way. “Sawyer,” he quietly said her name. When he repeated it, she finally began to stir and then opened her eyes.

Shocked, she bolted upright and backed away, nearly knocking her laptop to the floor. “W-what are you doing here?” she asked, trying to get her bearings. 

“I came to talk. To apologize. To try to make things right.”

“Ethan, I–”

Sensing her distrust, “Please, give me a chance,” he implored. “I know I don’t deserve it, but will you please hear me out?” When she didn’t protest, he continued.

“I have been so selfish, Sawyer. When Naveen appointed you to the diagnostics team, I feared a scandal if people discovered we were together, especially with the ethics trial still fresh in people’s minds. I could never, in good conscience, put you in a position like that. You worked so hard and earned this fellowship. It’s a rare opportunity that I don’t want to get in the way of.” His eyes begged for understanding. “Please believe me when I say this… I want to be with you. So much so that I considered stepping down as team leader. Hell, I even considered resigning from the team altogether.” He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “As much as I care for you, Sawyer, I couldn’t give it up. I have spent my entire career preparing to one day fill Naveen’s shoes. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, until you. But everything between us happened so fast. It was still so new-”

“Ethan, I would never expect you to make that kind of sacrifice. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you did,” Sawyer firmly cut in.

“I know, Rookie, and that’s why I told myself the only way forward was as colleagues, and nothing more.” He made a point of looking her in the eye. “But the problem is we’ve never just been colleagues, have we. There’s always been something more between us. I took advantage of the distance, hoping that if we cut ties for a while, the connection would fade and make it easier to leave what we had in the past.” 

Sawyer shook her head in frustration. 

“You don’t have to say it. I can probably guess what you’re thinking,” Ethan acknowledged.

“That you’re an idiot?” she quipped.

“Yes, and you’d be right to think so. I had convinced myself it was a solid plan. As long as we still worked together, I would still get to see and talk to my best friend without the constant worry of holding you back or jeopardizing your career.” Sawyer followed when he tipped his head to the laptop screen behind her. “Knowing how badly you wanted to be at Edenbrook, and how hard you fought for the fellowship, I hadn’t considered the possibility that you would leave. When you said you might move back to Arizona, I realized my plan backfired.” 

Ethan gave her a moment to process.

“Why didn’t you call or write me back after I told you about the baby?” she demanded an answer.

"I know this will be hard to believe, but I swear I was just about to call you when I got your text. You can blame me for a lot, but you can’t blame me for the sudden shock of learning that I was going to be a father. It took me a while to catch my breath and find my words. When I finally got my shit together, I tried calling. Several times. But I kept getting your voicemail.” Ethan absent-mindedly stretched his hand toward her. “Sawyer, we both know words without action are meaningless. You mean so much to me and-”

“You have a real shitty way of showing it,” she interjected.

"And I'm here now because I want to change that. You deserve better than a phone call, and certainly more than a text message. You, Rookie, have the unnerving ability to read me like an open book. I want you to be able to look into my eyes and see the truth in my words when I tell you how I feel."

Protectively clutching her pillow to her chest, she braced herself. “And how do you feel?”

“About you?” he paused, his eyes darting between hers. “I am hopelessly in love with you, Sawyer Brooks.” 

She swallowed, nervously anticipating his next words. 

“How do I feel about this baby?” He sighed softly. “I’ll be honest, I never pictured myself settling down or having a family. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours on buses and planes alone with my thoughts, and they were consumed with the idea of becoming a father. For the first time in my life, Sawyer, I could picture it… a family of my own... but only because you were with me in that dream. And I’m worried that I’ve fucked it all up.”

Overcome with emotion, Sawyer hid her face with her hands and sobbed.

“Sawyer?” 

“Arrrrrgh,” she growled into her hands before lowering them. “I’m still furious with you… I’m not sure where we go from here… how to trust that you won’t walk away again.” She wiped her tears away. “But I guess we have a lot to figure out…” she said, her voice cracking, “because despite myself, I’m still in love with you, too.”

A wave of relief washed over Ethan. There was hope, even if the space between them made it feel like they were still on different continents.       

“How are you feeling?” he asked, looking her over.

“I��ve had a little morning sickness, but mostly I'm exhausted.” She opened her mouth to say more but stopped herself. 

“What is it?” 

Her bottom lip quivered when she continued. “I’m scared to death.” 

Ethan gently removed the pillow barrier and drew her near. “Come here.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and murmured, "It will be okay."

“You’ve said that before,” she mumbled into his chest.

He pulled back to look her in the eyes. “I’m sorry for letting you down before. I know that it will take time to earn back your trust. But I promise you, Sawyer, I’m here for you… for both of you. You can count on me,” he assured, his fingers twining with hers. “I will be the man... the partner… that you need me to be.”

They held onto each other in comforting silence for several minutes.

“I missed you, Asshole,” she whispered, then lifted her head to really look at him. 

Ethan smiled. “I missed you, too, Rookie. Every minute of every day that I was away.”

Sawyer ran her hand over his scruffy beard, then over the soft leather of his jacket. “We’ve got ourselves a brand new Ethan Ramsey,” she assessed.

“This jacket’s been through a lot with me.” 

“It suits you.”

Scratching his cheek, “And the beard?”

She studied him for a moment, then with the playful smile that he had missed so terribly, she teased, “You look like a dad.” 

Seven months later…

Ethan stared in awe at the carefully wrapped bundle his wife held in her arms. The newborn’s tiny hand wrapped around the tip of his finger. Without letting go, he carefully nestled next to his wife on the hospital bed. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he leaned in and pressed an appreciative kiss to her temple. When he pulled back, she turned to him with a smile, soliciting another kiss but this time on her lips.  

“I love you. How are you feeling?” he asked.

Before she could respond, there was a gentle knock on the door. Two older men bearing flowers, balloons, and teddy bears quietly entered. While the silver-haired man exchanged cheek kisses with Sawyer, the dark-haired man in the sweater vest moved to the other side of the bed and placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder.

“Dad. Naveen. Let me introduce you to your grandson,” Ethan announced. “Brooks Winter Ramsey.”

[consistentlyamess]

Wild Sweetness ⎮ Prologue

[1.4K]

pairing(s): luca x fem!oc MJ

summary: MJ has just settled in after opening back up a bakery in Chicago when some unexpected news

warnings: not much so far, takes place after season 3, 18+ , MDNI, swearing, eventual smut, second chance romance, pining, slowburn, flashbacks in italics, lmk if i missed anything!!

A/N: heeelloo!! this idea has been sloshing around in my head since i watched season 2 and started working on it while waiting for season 3. comments, likes, reblogs are appriciated as always or just come chat at me! And as always 💜💜💜 TY for reading!!!!💜💜💜

Fic Masterlist I Previous Chapter I Next Chapter

‘Well, well, well, look what rhubarb season dragged in!’ 

‘Morning, MJ’ Marcus greeted with a big, bright smile.

‘Please, say, you have some coffee for me!’ 

‘Not even a ‘good morning’, damn, you must really be tired.’ 

‘I’m sorry, I stayed up reading again and drank two glasses of wine, so now I’m tired and also a little hungover because somewhere between re-opening the shop and last night I also became an old lady.’ Marcus laughed and shook his head. 

‘You’re not an old lady, but you do need to get out more.’

‘Weird, I don’t remember asking that coffee with a side of unsolicited advice.’ 

‘Careful, chef, you might not get the coffee either if you keep being a smartass.’ Marcus quipped back with a cheeky smile but also handing her the takeaway cup.

‘Oh, you’re a godsend, my friend.’ She took a sip and sank deeper into her place behind the counter for a second. ‘So, what's the agenda today?’ 

‘You said it: it’s rhubarb season. And we’re changing the menu.’ 

‘Excellent! Let me grab my jacket and we can go! Lucy’s is already on the fresh croissants.’

‘Hi Lucy!’ Marcus bellowed so she can hear him in the back.

‘Morning Brooks!’

‘Still no first name, huh?’ 

‘Told ya’, you gotta earn it!’

‘Be nice Lucy, I’ll be back in the afternoon!’ 

‘Got it, chef!’  

Marcus and Marjolaine (just MJ for him and most) have been doing this routine for almost a year now. With a changing of seasons came the changes of the menus and so they went out looking for inspiration. And that looking always started at the fresh, seasonal ingredients. Rhubarb was one of MJ’s personal favourites and she couldn’t wait to indoctrinate the young pastry chef. Managing a bakery could become a nightmare sometimes but having someone like Marcus, a soothing, calming presence was something she couldn’t have imagined her life without at this point. The first time Marcus wandered into the shop, they were barely open. Chairs were missing and wires were hanging from the walls but MJ set up a little stand outside. First he thought it was a little weird, operating on half-capacity, if that, but while he was drinking his coffee he asked her and it turned out to be quite the trick. 

‘Look, we've been at this for months now, right? Renovating, drilling, sawing, equipment coming in, equipment breaking, equipment coming in again. We tore down a fucking wall for crying out loud!’ She threw her hands, for emphasis and Marcus started to suspect that maybe this flare for the dramatic was some kind of common theme with people who were brave - or crazy, jury’s still out - to open a restaurant. 

‘Tell me about it.’ He said, reminiscing about Fak and Richie screaming at eachother. 

‘Right, and they know nothing about who I am, what we’re gonna do here, we’re just annoying and inconvenient as fuck. So, I thought, let’s just show them! The kitchen is almost up and running, I can also do some of it at home, some french press, some fresh pastry, bamm, nice neighbourhood bakery girl!’

‘Allright, I see you, nice bakery girl! That’s actually pretty fire.’ 

‘Well, why thank you! And while we’re at it, can I ask, where this inquiry is coming from.’ 

‘Oh, shit yeah, sorry! Hi, I’m Marcus, I work at The Bear, just down the block and I’m the pastry chef there.’

‘Sussing out the competition. Clever. Hi, Marcus, I’m Marjolaine. Yes, it’s a french name, no you don’t have to say all of that every single time. Some people call me Margie, some call me Margot, anything goes. And this place here’ she said, gesturing behind her like a circus presenter ‘is going to be the Wild Sweetness, bakery and breakfast place.’ 

‘Wow, that’s a lot of info in one breath chef.’ 

‘You don’t have to call me chef.’

‘I have to call you something, till I figure out my name for you.’ 

‘I just gave you like 4 options.’ 

‘Yeah, I know, but I want something original, welcome you to the hood properly.’ 

‘Yo, boss!’ 

‘One sec Tony! Duty calls Marcus but thanks for the chat, I hope I’ll see you around!’ 

‘Bet! Come check out The Bear sometime!’ 

‘Will do!’ 

And from then on it became a habit. Even after the Wild Sweetness opened properly, Marcus almost always started his day there. It took him about 3 weeks to come up with MJ. ‘The hair and the whole vibe. There’s something very MJ-ish about you. Comic book MJ, not movie MJ.’ 

She took it as a compliment and got to be known around The Bear as just that, MJ from the bakery. 

‘Do you have any ideas yet?’ she asked as they were walking to the market. Well, the first market that is. There was a whole routine now to the whole operation. Start at the Sweetness, since MJ was renting the flat above the bakery, but Marcus insisting that no, you’re absolutely not firing the coffee machine just for this, i’ll grab it on my way, check Frank’s, two streets down, he usually had one or two rare fruits or a new guy bringing homemade jam, so it was always worth a try. Also Frank was a staple of these mornings, in and of himself. Without fail, without a hitch greeting with a gravelly and grouchy ‘You kids are goin’ to be the death of me I swear, who wakes up like this, ass crack of dawn on a Saturday, unbelievable! Now, come on in, I got somethin’ to show you.’ Rough cut man with a thick Chicago accent, who was a real fiend when it came to very niche, hearty jams. After Frank they usually headed for the markets, browsing for hours, trying some things then getting some lunch. 

‘I’m not sure yet. A compote feels too on the nose. Rhubarb and strawberry, while a classic for a reason also feels played out. Something about, like. a deconstructed rhubarb crumble keeps popping up in my head but nothing else.’

‘Ouh, I like the sound of that. Have you talked to Carm about it?’ 

‘Not really, he’s been in a mood lately.’ 

‘Lately? I feel like he’s always in a mood.’ 

‘Yeah, fair enough.’ 

‘What’s been going on? He’s still in over his head?’ 

‘Yeah, I don’t know, I feel like he’s just, I don’t know, like he’s just stuck. He thinks that pushing himself harder is always the answer, you know?’ 

‘Yeah, I know people like that.’ 

‘Yeah, and you just can see that he’s not getting enough sleep, not talking to his people, meanwhile Nat is home with the baby, and I get it, failing is not an option but he just doesn’t need to throw a fit over how tape is cut, you know?’ 

MJ snorted a laugh. ‘Yeah, I get you. And yeah, if being hard on yourself worked, it would”ve worked by now, right?’

‘Fuck, yeah, exactly.’  

This morning in particular has been a little slower, a little quieter than usual. Marcus talking about Syd in a hushed tone while they walked from stand to stand, one she recognized immediately. She wasn’t going to meddle. Not in this anyway, but she felt for the young chef. A crush that was going nowhere. There was something so brave and defiant about the whole thing though. Holding those feelings, stepping back and still trying, still keeping an eye out for when maybe his number gets called. But it was also noticeable how he got a little quieter, a little more soft-spoken since his mother passed. 

‘You guys had that tiramisu on the menu a while back, right?’ MJ asked while looking for some peaches. 

‘Yeah, we did.’ 

‘Well, how about something in that direction? Maybe not mascarpone but something with heavy cream, make it light, little lemony, infuse it with rhubarb, ladyfingers soaked in strawberry liquor, something like that.’

‘Okay, throwing this out like it’s not a big deal. That sounds pretty fire actually.’ 

‘You give me too much credit, it might not work.’ 

‘Maybe, but you always set me on a good path, even if it’s not, like, perfect.’  

‘Allright, now you’re just sucking up.’ MJ said with a small laugh. 

They keep browsing and first she doesn’t even notice that Marcus gets lost in his phone for a minute.

‘Oh, shit!’ he exclaims, so suddenly startles her. 

‘What’s up?’ 

‘Yo, this is so cool! You remember that pastry chef I staged with in Copenhagen?’

‘Luca, right?’ 

‘That’s him! He’s coming to town! He’s taking a sabbatical and he’s coming here, to check out the restaurant and shit, yo, this is so cool, you guys can finally meet!’ 

‘Well, how about that.’ 

[spurbleu]

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[princeoftheeternalbog]

Masterlist

Hello this is my blog(?) I'm mostly writing because I hate trying to find specific scenarios and I really enjoy creative writing but yk fanfic is less pressure cos you already have the world and the characters it's great.

This is not a safe place for terfs or proshippers or any other type of bigotry!

I will try to update this as I go! Currently I have only written for one piece and a tiny bit for dungeon meshi but some other things I like include fairytail, jjk, lotr/the hobbit, skyrim, doctor who, castlevania and the shadow and bone universe. I also know an awful lot about dragonball so. I might write for these if people are interested, feel free to request.

I absolutely won't write anything with: cheating, abuse, non-con(including cnc), inc*st, b*astiality, underage nsfw or romance.

For now I won't be writing for: Doflamingo, Ceaser Clown, Kaido, Big Mom, Arlong, Germa 66.

Some things I may allude to like abuse if you are requesting a comfort fic for a specific thing but I would generally prefer to avoid these topics.

Not safe for work

One piece

General headcannons

Nicknames/petnames - ✧ - What it says on the tin🫶 petnames they call you and sorta what they like to be called with: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Robin, Usopp, Franky, Brook and Jinbei

Nicknames/petnames p2 - ✧ - Part two after like 5000 years with: Ace, Marco, Thatch, Izou, Law and Kidd :)

ONE PIECE GOES BOWLING - ✧ - tbh guys this isn't even x reader but it's a rly funny prompt that my friend sent me so i had to do it with our strawhats

Kiss and run - ✧ - reactions to you kissing them and then running away. Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Robin, Usopp, Ace, Marco, Izou, Sabo

Kiss and run p2 - ✧ - same as above but with these characters: Shanks, Benn, Buggy, Crocodile, Mihawk, Rayleigh and Jinbei

Sleeping with you/sleeping habits - ✧ - how different characters sleep with you SFW: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Robin, Brook, Franky, Jinbei, Law, Kidd, Killer, Marco, Izou, Ace

The hiccups - ✧ - exactly what it says, headcannons of op characters reacting to you having the hiccups. Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Robin, Nami, Brook, Franky, Law, Kid, Killer, Ace, Marco, Izou, Sabo

X marks the spot - ✧ - where they like to kiss you :) Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Robin, Nami, Law, Kid, Killer

Clingy drunk - ✧ - how they react to you being clingy/handsy when drunk. Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Usopp, Robin, Brook, Franky, Jinbei, Sabo, Ace

Would op boys catch you if you fell? - ✧ - btw the answer is yes mostly. Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Franky, Brook, Jinbei, Law, Kidd, Killer

How strawhats react to you being embarrassed - ✧ - very nicely of course. Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Franky, Brook, Jinbei, Nami, Robin

-

Individual fics

-

Usopp x reader

Need a hand? - ✧ - Mini fic Usopp x reader, this has explicit themes (MDNI)

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Trafalgar Law x reader

Let me help you - ✧ - Kinda short but its a sort of hurt/comfort type deal :) This was requested

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Marco x reader

First beginnings - ✧ - You and Marco get together with a little helping hand.

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Izou x reader

He totally fancies you - ✧ - Izou has a big fat crush on you, you kiss at the end.

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Ace x reader

Warmth - ✧ - Small drabble about how Ace touches you.

Dungeon Meshi/Delicious in Dungeon

Kiss it better - ✧ - Mini fic, Laois Touden x reader :)

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

4th of July Reruns: Independence Day

Happy 4th of July week to all who celebrate it! I have a couple of old 4th of July themed CS fics that I thought I'd share with all of you, and if all goes well, I'll have a new 4th of July fic to add to Fluffy Fridays this Friday!

Word Count: 2082

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay 

@ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjones @kat2609 @brooke-to-broch 

@missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 

@laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 

@nickillian  @gillie  @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst @kmomof4

 @linda8084 @golfgirld @captain-swan-coffee @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious 

@laughswaytoomuch  @allyourdarlingswans  @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 @therooksshiningknight 

@lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @jrob64  @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv

 @i-will-sing-no-requiem @bluewildcatfanatic @laianely

Summary: This fic was originally posted to my Fluffy Fridays collection sometime around season 6. At the time, it was a "future fic", but now it is more of a slight canon divergence. With the Black Fairy defeated and the final battle won, Storybrooke is enjoying it's happily ever after and trying to make new memories. Emma has some exciting news for Killian.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Independence Day

CS Genre: Future Fic

Spring slowly sizzled into summer—a particularly hot and humid summer in Storybrooke that had Emma grateful that they had indeed decided to stay in the Land Without Magic, a place where air conditioners were a thing.

Ever since the Black Fairy was defeated a few months ago, she and Killian had responded to far more “cat stuck in a tree” or “Leroy double parked in front of Granny’s” calls than “weird, fairy tale villain intent on world domination just destroyed something” calls.

In fact, they’d had no calls about fairy tale villains.  It seemed Storybrooke had finally settled down into a peaceful, sleepy little town, with its requisite cast of eccentric characters.

It had never been the kind of life Emma had imagined she would lead—sheriff in a small town where everyone knows everyone else, married to her true love and so happy she thought she might die from it.  But though it might not be the life she’d expected for herself, it was a life she loved with every fiber in her being.

Even when Regina decided to institute regular town meetings to discuss town business.  (Seriously, they really were turning into Stars Hollow.)  It was at one such meeting about a month ago, that the whole big production had been decided on.

“Now that we’re not, you know, fighting villains every other day,” Leroy had said when Regina called on him to speak, “I think we need to start participating in normal society things.  The 4th of July is coming up.  Let’s do it up right.  Parade, fireworks, the whole shebang.”

Killian leaned over to Emma.  “Perhaps I’m missing something love, but what exactly is the significance of the 4th day of July, and why would it call for an unusual amount of festivity?”

Emma smirked, so glad to get back to the business of enlightening Killian about the modern world rather than, you know, trying not to die or trying to keep him from dying.  “It’s Independence Day in the United States, which is technically the country we live in.  Lots of celebrating goes on that day.”

He’d, as usual, wanted to pepper her with about a million questions.  Seriously, her husband wanted to know everything about everything.  Usually, Emma dealt with it by telling him to go look it up on the “magic box”, aka Internet, but that wasn’t exactly practical during a town meeting.  Seriously, Regina was as strict about “no talking!” in her meetings as the most demanding teacher. 

“Shhh!,” Emma had said as various members of the town began brainstorming ideas for the best (and, honestly the first) 4th of July Storybrooke had ever celebrated.  “You can look it up later.”

In the end they had decided to go with, as Leroy put it, the whole patriotic “shebang”.  There would be a parade through the main street of town in the morning—complete with the Storybrooke high school band and various prominent citizens dressed in their Enchanted Forest finest.  Emma wasn’t sure exactly what their Enchanted Forest attire had to do with the 4th of July, but she’d long since learned not to question these kind of decisions.  It only led to confusion and headaches.  Oh so many headaches.

(And to be honest, as the meeting was really ramping up, Emma realized kind of vaguely that she’d been having more headaches lately…along with way more nausea at weird times…and moments where she felt faint…and so much exhaustion she felt like she could barely get out of bed some mornings.  Maybe she should make an appointment with Dr. Whale to see what was going on with her, but she thought she’d give it a few more weeks.  After all, she’d been under a lot of stress since….well, basically since she moved to Storybrooke, and these weird symptoms were probably nothing more than her body sloughing off the stress and trying to get used to this strange new phenomenon known as “peace”.)

Anyway, the festivities would continue with a town picnic around noon and then fireworks as night fell.

And so it was that Henry and Killian spread out a blanket on the hill overlooking town on the evening of the 4th of July.  Emma set her picnic basket on the blanket, and then sat down beside it, reaching for the ginger ale she always had at the ready lately.  With a small, secret smile, she put a hand on her flat stomach, both excited and terrified about the news she’d received just the day before.

“And you’re sure we’re quite safe, here, love?”  Killian asked as he sat beside her.  “I must admit to being more than a little uneasy at the thought of the dwarfs setting off explosive devices for our amusement.  It seems like a terrible idea.”

They’d talked about fireworks as soon as they’d returned from the town meeting back in June, and Henry had been amazed that Killian had never seen a fireworks display.  “Are you serious?”  Henry asked.  “You’ve never seen fireworks?  Fireworks have been around for like…ever.  I know they were a thing in the Enchanted Forest.  I saw them in my storybook—during Cinderella’s wedding!”

Killian shrugged.  “Oh aye,” he’d said, “I’d heard of them, of course, but as a slave I’d not had much occasion to observe them.  And then once I’d become a pirate…well, I was far more interested in causing the explosions than viewing them.”

“But fireworks are way better than just explosions!” Henry had assured.  “They’re colorful and sparkly.  Sometimes they have special designs.  Some of them light up the sky, and others are like…little bursts of bright light and sound.  And fireworks displays always have a grand finale and it’s just…I can’t explain it, but it’s awesome!”

“How precisely do they work?” Killian asked.  “One lights a fuse and there is an explosion, aye, that I understand, but how do such explosions result in different formations and colors?”

“They just…do,” Henry said, with a little shrug.  “I don’t know how it works.  I just know it’s amazing.”

“I believe I shall consult Mr. Google, then, lad,” Killian said.  “I find it far preferable to understand the mechanisms of my entertainment.”

Of course he did.  Emma should have known.  It had been two weeks after they’d moved in together before they could have their first family movie night because Killian insisted on researching what movies were, how they were made, how they were projected on screen, and how thin, circular discs inserted in a machine could cause said movies to appear on the “moving picture box”.

Her husband was a full-fledged nerd.  A hot one, for sure, but a nerd nonetheless.

“Yes, Killian,” Emma said, coming back to the present and laying her head on her husband’s shoulder.  “I’m sure everything is totally safe.  Leroy’s got everything organized.  Just relax and enjoy the show.”

“I shall attempt to do so,” Killian said, “but I fail to see how colorful lights can elicit as much excitement as you and the lad…ooooooh!”

Emma giggled as the first firework—a large one that changed color from red to white to blue, lit up the Storybrooke night sky.  Killian looked up at the display in wonder, his eyes wide as saucers, a soft, boyish smile draping his face.

Sometimes she looked up at him and it just overwhelmed her all over again how much she loved him.  Now was one of those times.  She felt the tears come to her eyes, and Killian looked down at her in concern.  As usual, he could sense her moods.

“Is all well, Swan?” he asked in concern, reaching up to catch the single tear that fell from her eye.

“It’s more than alright, Killian,” Emma said.  “It’s perfect.  All of this is perfect.  I just love you so much, and I love our life together, and I don’t know what I ever did to deserve it, but life is just about perfect right now.”

He smiled tenderly, and leaned in to kiss her, but just before their lips connected, another firework went off, and Killian turned back to the light display.  Emma smiled, laying her head once again on his shoulder as Henry wandered off to find Violet and watch the show with her.

The fireworks went on and on, and as they moved closer to the grand finale, Emma heard one of the dwarfs (she thought it was Happy’s job?) start the music.  It had been decided that they would end the fireworks display with the 1812 overture, complete with the big finale coming during the cannon fire in the music.

Of course, as soon as it had been decided, Killian had gone to the library and pestered Belle for any information she could give him about the piece of music.

“The customs of this land are incomprehensible, love,” Killian had said that night as he helped her make dinner.  “Why is it customary for this ‘1812 Overture’ to be played at celebrations of this country’s founding?  The founding did not happen in 1812, but a generation before.  What’s more, the piece was written to commemorate an event that has nothing to do with the United States.  That Tchaikovsky fellow wrote the piece to commemorate the moment the Russians defeated Napoleon in his attempts to take over Russia. (Incidentally, is it only me, love, or does this Napoleon sound significantly like the Crocodile?  Small in stature, lust for power, dreams of world domination…)”

“I really don’t know why the 1812 is so popular,” Emma said as she carefully pulled a casserole from the oven.  “It just…is.”

“And it’s full of nationalistic anachronisms,” Killian had continued.

“What’s full of…what?” Henry asked, filching a roll from the bread dish and sitting at the table.

Emma rolled her eyes.  “Your step-dad was about to explain about all the nationalistic anachronisms (whatever those are) in ‘The 1812 Overture’.”

“Quite so,” Killian said.  “The piece features the French national anthem, La Marseillaise, for example, but in 1812, the song had been banned by Napoleon (the total ponce).  Furthermore, the piece utilizes the Russian anthem ‘God Save the Tsar’ near the end, but it had not yet been written as of 1812.  Not much of a historian, this Tchaikovsky.”

Henry groaned.  “Mom, I think we need to ban him from the library.  I already have to suffer through history lessons in school.  Don’t need them when I get home, too.”

A particularly loud volley of fireworks brought Emma back to the present.

“So, are you enjoying your first 4th of July?” Emma asked.

“It’s been quite enjoyable, Swan,” Killian said, “but then any day I get to spend with you and the lad is.”

Emma’s nerves began dancing within her stomach (or was that just the nausea again).  The moment was just about here.  As soon as she’d learned the news from Whale, she’d decided she’d tell Killian just at the climax of the fireworks show.  She wanted to make this moment special.

She just hoped he was as excited about the news as she was.  They hadn’t talked much about it.  This wasn’t something they’d planned; it had just sort of…happened.  What if this wasn’t what he wanted?

“Anything the matter, Swan?” Killian asked just as the cannon began to boom in the music.

“No,” Emma said, taking a deep breath.  “Something’s actually pretty great.  At least I hope you think it is.  I mean, I do, but we haven’t talked about it and…”

“Swan,” Killian said, looking more concerned than ever, “out with it, love.”

Emma took a deep breath, and then leaned in and whispered in his ear.  “Killian, in about 7 ½ months you’re going to be a daddy again.”

His eyes got round again, as he sat up abruptly.  “A father?  I’m to be a father?  You’re with child?”

She smiled tremulously.  “Yeah, Whale thinks I’m about 6 weeks along.  Are you…are you happy about it?  I mean I know we haven’t really discussed it and this is a surprise and…”

He cut her off with a swift, passionate kiss, his hand moving to rest on her still flat belly.  When he pulled back, there were tears in his eyes.  “How can you even ask that, Swan?  Of bloody course I’m happy.  A baby!  A product of our love!  I do believe my life is now absolutely perfect!”

Emma leaned over and kissed him again, the tears streaming from her eyes as overhead the fireworks celebrated right along with the Savior and her Pirate.

[munsonsreputation]

welcome to summer quests! ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

hi lovelies! i'm working on a few feature length fics but in order to break up my writing time, i figured writing some short blurbs/imagine requests would be fun!

as always, im writing for st characters such as steve, eddie, robin, ect. but i am also open to writing the younger kids into the story! SMUT IS ONLY WRITTEN FOR 18+ CHARACTERS. i'm writing for a few fics i've written in the past (check below for specific ones), but if there's any other fic i've written that you want more of just send in an ask! check out a list of prompts and dialogues here, and also feel free to slide into my inbox with your own ideas!!

📮 submit your request to my inbox

au's/spin-offs:

*:･ glitch!universe (artist & baker!reader)

*:･ sygb!universe (found family max & steve)

*:･ i should hate you (enemies to lovers)

*:･ teenage dirtbag!universe (cheerleader!reader x eddie)

ect tropes/themes:

*:･ sunshine x grumpy

*:･ enemies to lovers

*:･ fake dating

*:･ friends to lovers

*:･ forced proximity

please note:

I have the right to refuse or ignore any and all asks and requests that are profane or make me uncomfortable. I will not write any requests that I am not comfortable with or do not have the ability to write.

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[septembriseur]

Tagged by @aintgonnatakethis

About me

When did you start writing?

Not sure. At the age of ~9 I started writing a terrible epic fantasy novel that basically recapitulated the Terry Brooks and David Eddings series that I was obsessed with at that point. There is (regrettably) evidence of this because my family had a printer that I made copious use of. I started writing X-Files and Star Trek fic before I knew it was something that other people did, around age 11.

Are there different genres or themes you enjoy reading other than the ones you write?

I basically exclusively read crime novels and fic because the sf/f and literary fiction that I encounter is so unappealing almost without exception. And actually I read very little fic because almost all the fic I encounter these days is terrible. I am constantly starving for non-terrible fiction. (Please feel free to recommend some.)

Is there an author you want to emulate, or are compared to often?

I've always been obsessed with Hilary Mantel's prose and used to rip her off often in my sentence structures. But I don't know that there's anyone I look at and think, "I wish I could do that." In terms of fic, Kat Allison was a big influence on me— I read her fic when I was probably 13 or 14 years old and was first starting to develop real ideas about writing, like, "What is this story doing?" Also a Highlander fic called "Heat Goes to Cold," which appears to no longer be on the internet but which introduced fourteen-year-old me to Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia, which I still have a great fondness for even though I have (kicking and screaming) outgrown it.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

Right now my biggest problem is that I don't have a writing space and mostly write in coffee shops. My apartment is full of intrusive objects like a work-from-home husband and multiple no-work-from-anywhere rescue dogs, which interfere with thinking. I've just set up (using a room divider) a new attempt at a bedroom office, which is an IKEA table covered in heaps of agates and fossils and ephemera, so we’ll see how that goes.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and/or places you write about?

Not so much the place I grew up as other places I've lived. I tend to put people in landscapes that I know well and be meticulous in details, which is partly just because I have almost no visual imagination. Northern New Mexico and London are probably the landscapes I feel I know most deeply and find most productive. Thinking about this, it actually seems to be because in both cases my knowledge of the place is very specific and idiosyncratic. My physical knowledge of New Mexico is very linked to nuclear history and fossil hunting, which creates unusual routes and focus. My physical knowledge of London is very linked to mudlarking— the river, the terrain and transit around the river, the material history of the city— and to punk rock, which heavily shaped my husband’s London and therefore (through him) mine.

Are there any reoccurring themes in your writing? If so, do they surprise you?

It's been discussed to death.

Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character?

I think that I'm less interested in specific characters than I am in the potential for characters to be interpreted in unexpected ways. The more generic a fic is in characterization, the less readable I find it. Marvel and (especially) Stargate characters are great for this because there’s so little to them on the page— they exist as a potential for readings, especially critical readings. I see less and less of this in fandom, sadly.

Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life?

Truthfully, I would probably have an easier time being friends with my characters than I do with people in real life. When I look at the characters I write about, they seem to all be veterans, refugees, would-be revolutionaries, and/or people who have had really extreme and unusual experiences that make them outliers. That also describes an awful lot of people I know in real life.

Which characters would you dislike the most of you met them?

Probably Transposition Chloe Armstrong, insofar as a lot of the details of her life are a gentle spoof of people I went to school with at various points.

Do you notice any reoccurring themes/traits in your characters?

I exclusively write about damaged people, pretty much. I guess also maybe see the last question here for more thoughts.

How do you picture your characters?

I have a very poor visual imagination, so I don't really. I have to find photo references, even for original characters. I’ve mentioned before that I have to look up floor plans online in order to figure out spaces in my stories.

My writing

What’s your reason for writing?

I'm good at it— ie I’m able to do what I want to do with it. I'm probably better at it than anything else I do— there are other hobbies I've given up (music) because I know that I will never be as good at them as I want to be. With writing, I feel that I am capable of being good enough.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment from readers that you find particularly motivating?

I probably prefer more neutral comments that engage with the subject matter in depth. I like talking about my stories as a fan rather than an author, I guess. I have a hard time with praise.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Probably my mercilessness in terms of both characters and prose. Secondarily (and relatedly), my intolerance of generic phrasing. If nothing else, I am determined to describe things in a new way.

Have you been told is your greatest strength as a writer is by others?

Its strangeness/unexpectedness. But this has mostly come up in the context of my old original fiction, which is not very good and mostly written to pay bills.

How do you feel about your own writing?

Satisfied— generally. Circa 2019, I’d been writing so much that I really felt like I had an incredible level of technical control over my prose. However, I also had a very shallow understanding of the world and a lack of moral imagination. 2021 onwards really marked the beginning of me developing as a person, ie having a quiet breakdown and having to reconstitute myself. Unfortunately, 2021 also marked the severe limitation of my free time. Now I feel that I am able to write with more insight, but I'm still working on getting back to the same point of skill in my writing.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, do you write purely for yourself, or is it a mix of both?

Given what I write, it's pretty clear that I mainly write for myself. I think I write to solve arguments for myself— to resolve tension between ideas or principles; to reconcile parts of my character; to understand how to live in the world. That last thing sounds really elevated and pretentious, but I mean it in a pretty down-to-earth way. The last three years completely stripped away what I thought I understood about how to be a person and left me seeking some truth about how a person is supposed to live, day-to-day, in a world that is characterized by such profound injustice. I think that’s the kind of truth that can’t be arrived at except through fiction, because it’s not logical— it has to reconcile fundamentally paradoxical ideas. Is it stupid to suggest that writing, like, pornographic sex scenes is a way of dealing with that? Maybe! But in fact that’s the way I experience it: that everything I write, however silly and trivial, is always also toying with these questions about power and humanity and being in the world, because it can't not be. (And I think that there's probably something really "late settler liberal" about the idea that it's possible to separate the two things— that on the one hand there's entertainment, which is free of these questions, and on the other hand there's real life.)

[moonpascaltoo]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ about me

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

20s • she • brooke

→ go through a lot of different fandoms. sorry if you’re follow for one specific fandom.

→ i mainly use my phone. so what seems centered to me is definitely not centered on a laptop

→ takes awhile to update list, as it’s harder on a phone. i do try my best to keep up with them. (currently revamping them so it’ll take extra long, sorry!)

→ I change my theme a lot. i’m not sure why but i can’t stick to one.

→ if you have any fics you would like me to read and reblog here, please send them to me, i would love to read them!

→ this blog was made for me to keep track of everything i’ve read and to support authors (because they deserve it). and can be seen as a recommendation blog.

→ in the end, this blog is catered to me and only me. if you don’t like what i say or reblog, please kindly leave. thank you! <3