#day four: alternate canon

[outer-edges]

JASKGKFKKSKS OH MY GOD UNCOVERED THE CURSED SPIDERSONA X TWILIGHT CROSSOVER I WROTE IN HIGH SCHOOL. LOSING MY MINDDDDD. BEING A TEENAGE GIRL DURING THE PANDEMIC WAS QUITE A TIME.

[robinsgrl]

kildare nights. undecided pairing x fem!reader

GOLD AT HAND and no more treasures to hunt, the freshly graduated treasure hunters are left to deal with the simple life. as simple as a certain level of fame and millions of dollars in the obx can get you, at least.

warnings . . . half canon half not, curse words, sexual innuendos, i mean… spoilers duh, no one dies everyone lives yippee!!!!!!!, im a gay kie believer so… how the show should’ve ended!!! rich pogues and calm life!!!!

genre . . . slice of life-ish, humor, romance, social media!au, big time alternative universe.

the taglist is now closed!

navigation.

.ᐟ.ᐟ

— [ PROFILES ]

— one. stinkin’ rich, baby

— two. rat traps

— three. daddy issues fr fr

— four. sarah routledge day

— five. should be at the club

— six. pope if u can hear us

— seven. serving face

— eight. blocked

— nine. dont even care

— ten. giving up

— eleven. granny

— twelve. baby names

— thirteen. wrong phrase, again

— fourteen. pondering

— fifteen. buzzballs

— sixteen. the grapevine

— seventeen. i rushed

— eighteen.

— nineteen.

— twenty.

— twenty-one.

— twenty-two.

— twenty-three.

— twenty-four.

— twenty-five.

THE END.

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 4.5

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter warnings: porn with some plot kinda, this yoongi is very horny and is a very methodical masturbator (?) in the way he set the mood for himself (could be canon, amirite), let’s fix that boner you left him with, and let’s soothe your weary minds from that Dispatch article, POV switch after the article headline, idk if you know that one video of yoongi in d-day during the piano break in life goes on he does this thing with his tongue… it’s written in here somewhere

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 1.5k

✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: December 15, 2024

✎ ˎˊ˗ A/N: Surprise! I kid you not, this was written within a span of like 8 hours? So if it sucks, that’s probably why, lol. Lucky for y’all I am too impatient to wait for notes milestones before I upload the next part, so here you go. 🎁 Also, @glossdebut, you know what you did. Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |  Masterlist

“Fuck me…” Yoongi sighs, leaning further back into the computer chair. He runs both hands through his hair as the preliminary pinpricks of pleasure makes his cock spring to life under his sweatpants.

His phone is now propped on his half-empty coffee mug, of which the screen—maxed out in its brightness settings—is projecting the photo you sent through its 2x dynamic galaxy amoled display—of which his dick would personally like to thank his Samsung sponsors.

He is so horny he might just die if he doesn’t get off in the next five minutes. 

It’s your fault. Of course, it is.

God you’re so fucking sexy, do you even know that? Do you even realize what you do to him? He is literally about to masturbate in his multi-million won worth studio to the pitiful pixels you have afforded him with.

He stands up, curses you under his breath as he pulls his pants down to pool around his ankles. He drops to his chair, about to slip a clammy hand inside his boxers when he decides to adjust the view juuuust a little, zooming the photo closer…closer…  and that’s it.

Just the view he needs. (Sue him for having astigmatism.)

He grabs the aircon remote and adjusts the temp to a balmy 24 ‘cause it’d be hella annoying if he can’t get hard because his studio is an igloo.

Some velvety track with soft percussions filter out from his speakers.

A pump of lube from his hidden drawer, wet wipes at the ready for the inevitable clean up, and he’s off to the fuckin’ races. 

His fist wraps the base of his cock, coating his entire shaft with the gel. It's cold, but it immediately warms up to his body temperature as his palm slides up and down his semi. 

Greedy eyes rake your body on his phone screen. Your tits. They’re a vision. He can see just the ghost of your nipples, peaking in the slightest way against your silky top and suddenly his mouth is dry. What would they look like if they’re not hiding from him? For sure they’re puffy. Pretty jet-puffed marshmallows that he’s gonna be putting in his mouth and sucking until you’re falling apart and creaming with just that. He smirks. Yeah, he could do that.

He tugs at his cock faster, licking his bottom lip as he imagines the texture of your pebbled nipples against his tongue. He shivers, increasing the pace of his ministrations, cock now fully hard.

Back to the photo.

Huh. You knew what you were doing—squeezing your breast with your hand. The way the mound of flesh is about to spill over, and your areola is just kissing the edge of the fabric is actually killing him. It’s diabolical. Pure torture.

Had you been here, he’s scooping out that breast, the one you’re holding out to him, so it’s hanging generously from your top, wobbling as he bounces you on his fat dick. 

He feels his eyes crossing, caught in the spell of the hypnotic movements playing out in his mind. He moves his hand faster, cock throbbing and aching for release.

But he’s not there yet.

Closing his eyes, Yoongi lets himself sink back into the memory, rewinding the moments from just hours ago. The sensation of your weight against him is the first thing he recalls—the way your ass fits so perfectly in his lap, warm and soft, like you were made to be there. The way your body had melted into his touch, so pliant, so eager, grinding slightly like you were inviting him to ruin you, and he was more than willing to oblige.

Your lips—he can still taste them if he focuses hard enough—sweet, intoxicating, like the lingering memory of his favorite whisky. And your neck, the way it arched so perfectly for him, leaving him no choice but to press his mouth against it, the faint hint of your skin still ghosting on his lips even now.

If he concentrates, he can almost smell you again, that sweet, delicate perfume that drove him insane. It’s like you’ve imprinted yourself on him. Or maybe it’s the faint traces of your scent that linger on his hoodie, the one you pressed yourself into while straddling him and he could feel the perfect ass against his crotch. 

The thought is enough to send his pulse ticking faster, his head leaning back against the chair as a low, frustrated groan escapes him. He needs you. Fervently. Urgently. Needs you like he has never needed another person ever. 

Jaw slack, tongue dangling from the corner of his mouth, he imagines licking your nipples from side to side and his mouth stretches into a smile. He can almost hear you moan oh yoongi and wow what an ego boost to have you unraveling for him when in reality it’s he who is actually unraveling in his own damn hands. His cock is getting heavier, balls tighter at his impending demise. He tugs and tugs, collecting some of the lube that gathered on the base and pushing it back towards his angry tip, concentrating his movements there.

You’re not in the room but you might as well be with the way your name keeps tumbling from his lips. He is whining like a little bitch in heat, but he doesn’t give a shit. He hasn’t had a satisfying jerk-off like this in a while. He can’t even remember sex being this good. Nothing remotely like the way this fog of lust has him ascending to another plane of existence right now, because you’re so fucking sexy and so good to him and he likes you so damn much and suddenly he’s coming, warm spurts of cum oozes from his throbbing cock decorating his fingers like the rings he used to wear to the knuckle, and fuck he’s still going, there’s so much and god dammit his boxers are soaked but it feels phenomenal.

Chest heaving as if he ran a marathon, he stares at his ceiling, waiting for his heart rate to slow down.

Not long after, he laughs at his stupidity, pulling a wipe from the packet and proceeds to clean up. He sobers up from his horny thoughts, but not by a whole lot. Not when the photo that started it all is still bright and beautiful from his phone. Shit. He cannot wait to fuck you for real. 

Little did he know, something was gonna fuck him up come morning.

AllKpop Scoop:

Confirmed: SUGA of BTS Dating Actress Lee Sung Kyung

Eagle-eyed fans are convinced the duo has been hiding their relationship in plain sight, pointing to their undeniable chemistry during a past Suchwita episode, where sparks were reportedly flying between the two.

The story was everywhere. News sites, entertainment shows, gossip columns, social media—each one milking it for all it was worth. 

Darling of the press, K-drama royalty, multi-awarded thespian Lee Sung Kyung, had resurfaced from her mysterious hiatus, and of course, the headlines couldn’t resist pairing her name with “infamous idol Min Yoongi.” You roll your eyes so far back your head they almost didn’t come back.

The South Korean media was having an absolute field day.

And as much as it hurt to see it, your first instinct wasn’t to dwell on the sting of the rumors. It was to scan every word, every post, every thread, checking if Haneul had been dragged into the mess.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been. You’d be devastated if your little sarang had been implicated in any of these stories. You don’t know the first thing about how to protect the poor baby from these trolls, but you will be damned if you don’t try.

The photo that sparked the frenzy was everywhere—a shot of Sung Kyung leaving Yoongi’s Hannam apartment. That was it. No Yoongi, no Haneul, not even a hint of context. Never mind that the building housed countless tenants or that there was zero proof they were together. It was enough to send the internet spiraling into speculation.

You were scrolling through the comments under one of the reposts, your stomach churning at the sheer creativity of the assumptions being thrown around, when your screen suddenly switched to an incoming call.

Yoongi.

You didn’t hesitate, swiping to pick up almost immediately.

“Sarang,” he starts, his voice soft and familiar, like he already knows he needs to tread lightly. Bro’s really starting with the buttering up.

“Where’s Han?” Was your first question.

“My parents drove him up to Daegu this morning. It’s better if he’s there for now.”

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temple as you sit back. “Just answer one question, Yoongi: is it true or not?”

“It’s a big fuckin’ lie,” he says without missing a beat, his voice steady and firm. “None of it is true.”

“So it’s all bullshit?”

“YES.” he replies emphatically.

The tension in your shoulders eases slightly, and you exhale, nodding to yourself. This is fine for now. “Okay.”

“Okay?” There’s a note of uncertainty in his voice, like he wasn’t expecting you to let it go so easily.

“Yes. Just get your ass here by 7 and not a minute later.” You say, firm.

A pause. Then, with the faintest hint of a chuckle, he replies, “Yes, ma’am.”

Part Five >

A/N: So???? I don't know what that first part was. It just took a life of its own. Anyway, as per ush, please let me know what you thought about the chapter. Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you so much for reading this, you lovely, beautiful human xo

See you in the next half! :)

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@no-jiminprotested

[atlaculture]

how do you think the calendar is organized in the atla universe? they have a twelve-month system like we do but what would those months each be called? do you think they have leap years?

Right off the bat, let me just say that hypothetical calendars and alternative timekeeping is one of my favorite topics to talk about so this reply is going to be lengthy.

First off, everything we know about the calendar system in Avatar comes from the planetary calendar room in Wan Shi Tong's library.

The innermost ring indicates the number of months in a year (12), the second ring indicates the number of days in a month (30), the third ring indicates the different Avatar eras (16 shown), and the outermost ring showcases all of the animals of the zodiac cycle (12). For this reply, we're only going to be focusing on the innermost and second innermost rings.

According to the episode, the ATLAverse appears to have only 12-month years, so no leap year 13th month like the East Asian lunar calendar. There also doesn't appear to be any months with more than 30 days, judging by the number of days shown on the calendar. This means that the maximum number of possible days for an Avatar year is 360. So it's safe to say that there are probably no leap years like ours in the ATLAverse. I guess their Earth's orbit is slightly shorter and more suited for timekeeping than ours.

As for what each month would be called in the ATLAverse, there's a couple of options. One option is to simply call the months by order: First month, second month, third month, etc. This actually ties back to Avatar's Chinese influence, as that's literally how months are named in Mandarin. This is straightforward, practical, and doesn't require any complex etymology or extensive worldbuilding.

However, I also think it would be fun to weave motifs into the calendar. Since there's so much emphasis on balance and cycles, why not divide the twelve months between the four elements? I imagine these months would be referred to as:

The 1st, 2nd, & 3rd Water Month

The 1st, 2nd & 3rd Earth Month

The 1st, 2nd, & 3rd Fire Month

The 1st, 2nd, & 3rd Air Month

For example, a person might say "I was born during the first water month, in the year of the rabbit." Naturally, there would be plenty of superstitions and horoscopes related to the combination of birth month and birth year.

The show also canonically mentions weeks passing by, although they never specify the number of days in their weeks. In a previous post, I mentioned that government officials during the Qin & Han Dynasty were given a day off every five days to bathe themselves. I think this would be a good basis for a week in the ATLAverse, four days of work and one day of rest. Each working day would be named after a cardinal direction (East-day, North-day, West-day, South-day) and the resting day would be called "Center-day", paralleling a compass.

In short, an ATLA month would be comprised of 6 five-day weeks and a year would be made up of 12 thirty-day months; the days would be themed around the cardinal directions and the months would be themed around the four elements. I think this would be a good way of adding texture to the world of Avatar, without weighing the setting down with too much worldbuilding or cultural baggage.

...And that would just be the default "world" calendar that spirit libraries and world travelers and international organizations would use. I think each nation would probably have their own unique calendar tailored to suit their own cultural and seasonal needs.

I might make a few posts on what each nation's calendar system might be, if anyone would like to read that.

Like what I’m doing? Tips always appreciated, never expected. ^_^

https://ko-fi.com/atlaculture

[redroses07]

The Umbrella Academy Season 4 Fix It Fic // Five Hargreeves x Reader Edition

WC: 3.1k

CW: Canon accurate violence, swearing, kissing, use of Y/N, Y/N is a bad ass, domestic fluff, angsty af.

Summary: A Five x Fem!Reader rewrite for the end of season four because I absolutely hated the ending. Five and Lila are not a thing in this fic, because that made me literally gag.

A/N: Hey luvs! I worked my ass off writing this fic because I needed to have a better ending for season four. In my mind this fic is canon. I hope y'all like it because I truly love how it turned out! Have an amazing day and enjoy! - Claire ♡

Five sat on the empty train, riding round in aimless circles. He had no intention of ever stopping. Perhaps he would die here, if death was even possible in this endless void. There was no reason for him to continue, they were out of options.

All he wanted to do was save his family, save you, but he couldn't even do that. At least this way he could escape having to witness the end of their lives.

He couldn't help but feel as if this was all his fault, if only he had listened to Reginald when he told him never to time travel. So much pain, so many lost lives, it never would have happened.

Five looked out the window, he didn't know what exactly for. Everything looked the same. Round and Round again, each identical station feels more hopeless than the last.

After an immeasurable amount of time, days? years? who knows. Something caught Five's eye.

He jumped up from his seat, following the dark figure out into the station.

Was that? No.

"Hey, wait!" Five shouted, chasing him down a staircase.

He rounded a corner, seeing a dimly lit cafe filled with all too familiar faces. The place was filled with several alternate versions of Five himself. It was an odd feeling for him to see himself this way.

Nonetheless, he took a seat across from the Five he had followed.

No more than ten seconds later, another Five served up two pastrami sandwiches. Five number two began to complain about the amount of sauerkraut on his sandwich, staring intently at the meal.

"What is this place?" Five asked, reaching for the cup of hot coffee next to him.

"It's a gas station. What the hell does it look like? It's a Deli." He could see that the alternate Five share his love of sarcasm.

He went on to explain how this was a place where all of the Five's from alternate timelines end up while trying to fix the "broken timeline" issue.

"Okay, so what shattered the original timeline?" Five asked.

"Not what. Who? I'll give you three guesses." Alternate Five held up three fingers.

"We did!" Another Five yelled.

Five wasn't surprised, everything always seemed to be caused by him.

"By we, do you mean my siblings?" Five asked.

"Yep, the morons."

Five rolled his eyes.

"When we come into existence, the timeline is shattered, and then we're stuck trying to save the world. How many times was it again?"

"145,412."

The number seemed almost impossible to fathom, but the more alternate realities, the more opportunity for the world to end. Alternate Five pointed at the wall, which was filled with every possible way the world had ended. Viktor's attempt at blowing up the moon was front and center. Seeing it gave Five an unpleasant sense of nostalgia.

Five came to realize that the commission was created by an alternate Five in an attempt to fix the timeline, but it was never successful since the Hargreeves siblings were the root of the problem.

"I have to get back." Five turned, rushing out the door. He heard the alternate versions of himself begin to speak, but his overwhelming thoughts drowned it out.

Five ran as fast as he could, getting back on the train and returning to his rightful place. With his family.

As Five entered the abandoned shell of his former home, the room's occupants turned to look at him.

The first person he noticed was you. You watched him with sad eyes, eyes he thought he would never have to gaze into again. Yet here he was, and undeniably, he had a plan.

You watched Five scan the room. Dark hair hung in front of his eyes, his chest heaved from running, or perhaps from anxiety.

"I didn't think you'd be back." You purse your lips, giving him a sour look. '

Facing your bitterness was the hardest part of all this for Five. Of course you had every right to feel that way, he had just up and left you. Although, in his mind that was better than having to watch you die.

"Yeah, neither did I." Five muttered.

Everyone looked at him, obviously awaiting an explanation.

"We caused this." Five began.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alison sighed.

You stared at Five intently, wondering what had changed since he decided to ditch you and everyone else.

"The marigold that infected our mothers bringing forth our births had a side effect, it fractured the timeline, bringing forth the end of the world."

Five looked from person to person, attempting to read everyone's emotions. They were unreadable.

"Extracting the marigold from our bodies is the only way to stop the cleanse, and in short, fix the timeline."

Silence settled over the room. You weren't born with marigold as the Hargreeves were, but due to Ben's antics, this now concerns you too.

"Okay, but how exactly do we do that?" Diego asked.

Five looked over to Viktor.

"Viktor, you can use your powers to extract the Marigold from our bodies. Unfortunately Ben and Jennifer are too far gone to be saved, but their sacrifice will have been for the greater good."

Viktor let out an elongated sigh, and with little to no hesitation, he agreed.

"Okay, let's get moving before it's too late." Viktor said, speeding out of the room.

You followed closely behind, trying your hardest to avoid Five's gaze.

"Y/N, I-" You cut him off, this was not the time to be talking about all the mistakes he had made. Even if those mistakes led to the answer for all your troubles, they were still mistakes.

"We can talk about this later, if there is one."

Five sighed and watched you exit the room, not even bothering to look his way. He had fucked up big time.

You watched Viktor head towards the monster that was Ben and Jennifer. The creature growled, as it hurdled towards your group.

You turned back as you felt someone grab your arm, Five was standing behind you. You saw something in him that you had only seen a few times before, fear.

"Please. If we don't make it through this I want to make sure we're okay." Five begged for your forgiveness.

In any other circumstance you would not have given in this easily, but the dire situation has just begun to settle in. This could be it.

Neither of you wanted to leave this world with so many words unsaid.

Your gaze softened, and you followed Five away from the other Hargreeve's.

"I know what I did was wrong. With every bone in my body I feel that it was wrong."

He spoke loudly enough to drown out the oncoming chaos, but softly enough to omit any sort of aggression.

Five reached for your hands, and you reluctantly let him take them.

Five paused for a moment, trying to find the words that would mean the most, considering he was dealing with limited time.

"My worst fear is to see you suffer, and at the time, running away seemed like my only escape. I feel like I've already caused so much hardship in your life, and the thought of any more terrified me." His eyes stayed glued to you.

Five was the whole reason you had joined The Commission to begin with. He helped you to believe in a cause that you otherwise wouldn't have, and the two of you hadn't left each other's side since.

You didn't regret it per say, but you couldn't deny that you often wished for a different life. You would never blame any of your circumstances on Five though, and you hated how he always chose to blame himself.

"Nothing that has happened to me, or to anyone, is your fault. I think all of us share some responsibility, but blaming yourself is just wrong." You squeezed Five's clammy hands.

Five let out a sigh of relief as he was able to recognize forgiveness in your eyes.

"I love you." He said, fighting the tears that began to form in the corners of his eyes. The phrase was reserved only for you, as it is a concept that has always been hard for five.

Growing up with Reginald as a father, and a family that could win an Olympic gold medal in dysfunctionality, Five didn't exactly have a positive outlook on love.

"I love you too. We've been through worse, we'll get through this too."

Five pulled you into a tight hug, breathing you in as if it was the last chance he would ever get to hold you. The two of you were versed in the end of the world, this was not the first final hug you had shared. Five placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, and he didn't miss the small cry that escaped your lips.

You rarely cried, and when you did it was always around Five. He was the only person you felt comfortable enough with to show vulnerability. It was the perfect moment, and the past few days had worn down your patience. You reluctantly let a few tears slip loose.

"Get your asses over here love birds, Ben is here." Diego called from the other side of the room.

You and Five exchanged a look before running over to the center of the room and rejoining your family.

Ben growled ferociously, the red goo that dripped from his body falling around the room.

"Just so you guys know, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. So if we all die, I apologize in advance." Viktor said, clenching his fists on either side.

His newly improved orange power began to swirl around his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, clearly focusing on the task at hand.

You reached for Five's hand, interlocking your fingers with his. If these were to be your last moments, you wanted to make sure he was with you.

Five gripped your hand with everything he had in him, every bit of strength was to remind you of his presence.

With each moment that passed, the colorful plume of Viktor's powers grew, encasing not only Ben and Jennifer, but all of you.

You and Five watched as the all too familiar gold marigold specks began to float through the air. It felt odd, it didn't hurt, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant feeling. It was like your whole body was being poked by a prickly cactus.

The air turned cold, and all other sounds were overcome by the rumbling of Viktor's power.

An unbearable wave of exhaustion washed over you, and it became hard for you to keep your eyes open.

You looked over at Five, making eye contact with him one last time. He gave you his signature smirk, funny how in spite of everything he could still be himself.

The last thing you saw was Ben falling to the floor, the marigold protruding from him filling the whole room with a deep yellow glow.

And just like that, the world turned black.

· · ─────── ·☂· ─────── · ☂ · ─────── ·☂· ─────── · ·

Five opened his eyes, the bright light of day overwhelming his vision. The ground beneath him was soft, the tall grass tickling his fingertips.

Five sat up slowly, his eyes adjusting to the sun. He looked over next to him, and there you were. Just as you had always been, right by his side. Your chest rose slowly, a thankful sign that you were still alive.

Five looked beyond you, to see his siblings all scattered around the lawn. They were all exactly where they had been before the blackout. The empty patch of grass, of course, was where the Hargreeve's mansion used to stand.

Without the existence of their powers, The Umbrella Academy was never formed. It was strange, to know that what Five remembered, no one else did. It was like waking up from a strange dream.

However, one thing was missing, Ben. And of course Jennifer. Five wasn't surprised that they hadn't made it, considering how their bodies were overtaken.

Five watched as his siblings slowly began to rise from their temporary comas, their eyes heavy and glazed over.

Five nudged you slightly. Unable to wait for you to wake, wanting to share this beautiful moment with you.

You opened your eyes and felt as if you had awoken from a decades long slumber. The first thing you saw was Five next to you, a genuine smile on his face. That was something you had missed.

"Are we in heaven?" Klaus mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Well if this was heaven, I'd be awfully disappointed." Lila replied.

You laughed to yourself, and stood up on wobbly legs.

You all had done it.

"Viktor. I think you might have just saved the world." Luther announced.

Viktor smiled and looked down, maybe eventually he'd let himself take the credit.

You began to take in your surroundings. The sound of traffic in the distance, the wind stinging your cheek, the smell of spring air. It was all so normal.

"Guys, where's Ben?" Klaus asked, and your heart dropped.

"Klaus...we all knew he probably wouldn't make it.." Alison said sadly.

Just then, something caught your eye. Something yellow that stuck out in the patch of green.

"Guys, look!" You pointed at the unique plant.

"Marigolds." Five said softly, and you felt his hand close around yours.

Two beautiful yellow flowers sprouted from the earth, a reminder of what was sacrificed. A reminder of what had to happen for all of this to exist, and a symbol of hope.

~~ Two Years Later ~~

You awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside your window, a song that was often your wake-up call. You rolled over to see Five sleeping peacefully next to you. You weren't surprised. He always slept late, after all, he was an old man at heart.

It had been two years of living freely in the new timeline. You and Five now share an apartment next to Lila and Diego and their three kids.

Life wasn't without its challenges, but compared to everything else the two of you had been through this was paradise.

Viktor had started his own Cafe, a small shop on a street corner that had quickly become a local favorite.

Alison had landed a big movie role not long after everything returned to normal. Ever since it hit the big screen, she had no problem with job offers. She didn't even miss her power of persuasion.

Klaus still lives with Alison. He doesn't really do anything specific, he often refers to himself as 'self-employed'. But he was happy, and that was all that really mattered.

Luther had somehow reconnected with Sloane, who had re-appeared after the timeline was fixed. Of course she didn't remember anything, but it must've been fate because they got to fall in love all over again.

Diego decided to put his skills acquired from his power to use and now taught axe throwing classes.

Lila had decided to help people who had ended up in a mental hospital, similar to how she had. She was working on getting her degree in psychology.

As for you and Five. Five kept his CIA job, and you decided to join him in his career. As the two of you had always done everything together, why not this too?

You felt Five stir next to you, letting out a series of groans. He slowly opened his eyes, a smile spreading across his face the moment he saw you.

"Good morning, beautiful." His morning voice is thick and deep.

"I love you." You whispered, pushing his messy hair out of his eyes.

Five leaned up to kiss you but you counteracted it by jumping out of bed. You pulled the blanket off of him and he whined in protest.

"Time to get up, Gramps, Lila wants us to drive the kids to school today."

Five rolled his eyes at the nickname. You snickered and kissed him on the cheek before heading to the bathroom to get ready.

After the two of you grabbed breakfast, you met Lila outside, Grace and the twins behind her.

"Thank you again for helping us out with this, I don't know how I'd ever get to work on time without you." Lila gave you a quick hug.

"Of course, whatever you need." You ushered her away, signaling that you could take it from here.

You were used to driving the kids places, and they always said you were their favorite aunt. Five however, could not surpass Klaus for favorite uncle.

"Alright guys, who's ready for school?" You said as you jumped in the driver's seat.

There was a chorus of enthusiastic cheers from the back, and you laughed.

"I was never that excited about school when I was your age." The kids had no idea how long ago that actually was for you.

You made sure to put on some kid friendly music, anything but Baby Shark. You dropped the kids off and made sure they all got inside safely.

"Anything else on the schedule for today?" Five asked you.

"Nope, we're both off today so I think the rest of our day is free."

"Great, we should do absolutely nothing." Five's eyes lit up with excitement.

You nodded in agreement and drove towards your home.

Once you arrived, the both of you threw on pajamas and cuddled up in bed. Five flung his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder, simultaneously letting out a big sigh.

"I love you." He mumbled in your ear.

Even after all these years he still made you blush every time he said those three little words.

"I love you more." You pressed a kiss to Five's nose and he scrunched it up before responding with a chaste kiss to your lips.

After breaking apart you and Five settled into each other's arms, excited to spend a calm day together.

He reached for the remote and flicked on the TV. The small kiss he placed on your forehead didn't go unnoticed.

As Five settled into this new life, he found it hard not to expect a new life altering crisis to pop up at any moment. But it never did.

As the day dragged on, nothing out of the ordinary happened; and you could almost say that it was an ordinary day.

Taglist: @xreader-writing @dorkyfangirl24 @dinorawrss @anne-oop @ladynaviamin @i-amtrash @patchesofdreams @sarbear33 @marinalor

[heck-theo]

Okokokokok- ignore how rough and messy some of these redraws/sketches are - but it's apparently also dinosaur month?? (WHY did no one ever tell me it's Jurassic June? I love dinosaurs) And like. What if Rise but dinosaurs?!

I don't often post such loose sketches but I wanted to show these off cause I really like some of this.

Design choices and dino species + the reasons I picked them bellow (looking for potential Donnie dino suggestions):

Clothes: Without the shell they really need clothes. They'd all have pretty much the same pants to keep some unity, except maybe Mikey (I decided they should all have the same pants after I finished the Mikey sketches, not sure if I'll keep the shorts or change to pants). Accessories are a mix of pre and post finale.

Raph - I think would keep it simple and practical but would also wear nice jackets and stuff when in casual situations. I need to work on giving him an alternative outfit and tweak his accessories a bit.

Donnie - An oversized pull-over hoodie cause we already know he loves that shit. We see him wearing it all the time. Easy enough. He wears a comfortable singlet underneath so the straps of his battle sail don't rub. Nice soft fabric, tight fit so it doesn't move around, tucks it into his pants, etc. When he wears the battle sail he won't overheat so he can wear hoodies basically all year round.

Leo - He's in one of those shirts with obnoxiously large arm holes and make it cropped cause 1. I think he would 2. I want it to be different from Raph and Donnie's singlets. He usually wears the shoulder strap off his shoulder but pulls it up when he needs to. He has some of the black bandages over his mid drift atm but I might just make his pants super high waisted in the final version. He'd probably wear a bomber jacket (also cropped?) over the top for cool weather, but doesn't like to hide his feathers.

Mikey - I think he'd mostly wear hand me downs when he's younger. He definitely goes through a stage of rebelling and wanting to pick his own and would find a middle ground of appreciating sharing some of his brother's clothes and modifying them, as long as he has the choice of his own available. Not sure if that would be before or after this design. At the moment he's got Raph's old shorts (from a loooong time ago), Leo's old shirt, and Donnie's old zip up hoodie. He does have his own accessories though, including pins instead of stickers.

Dinosaurs: I kept them all as non-avian dinosaurs, AKA not including animals that are colloquially considered dinos but aren't (like pterosaurs). I wanted to keep an even split of herbivore vs carnivore just so one wasn't the odd one out. I wanted to keep most of their body structure, colours and distinguishing features the same as canon. Obviously I added tails cause, yeah, of course haha. I did want them to be recognisable as different species of dino using distinct characteristics that their species is known for. I did ignore a lot of differences though, like size and bipedal vs quadruped (although the quadrupeds might be more likely to go to all fours, especially when fighting or afraid). Leo and Donnie are carnivores so have sharper teeth and claws.

Raph - Some kind of Ceratopsian (likely Triceratops or something very similar) and he was the first idea I had for this and I'm really happy with it. I think it just suits him. Trike Raph just came to me in an unprecedented moment of genius. His spikey frill replicates his spikey shell. His sturdiness, protectiveness and willingness to kick ass when needed, all scream trike to me.

Donnie - Spinosaurus but looking for other species recommendations. More details below: So I wanted to figure out a way for him to have tech with a similar function to his battle shell (in the sense that it's something that helped him in day to day life) and so I went with spino cause one possible theory about a function of spinosaurus' sail is temperature regulation. So his battle sail has heating/cooling systems as well as other tech. A spino's sail was probably not fragile but the battle sail would also help protect it from being targeted during fights or crushed during extreme impacts. It was also thought to be used for display, and what's more of a display than a battle sail? The only problem I have with this is that it's lacking part of what makes Donnie's battle shell so great, which is that it is essentially a prosthetic. Not quite the same as how prosthetics are used in people of course, just in the sense that it is replicating the functionality of a body part that he doesn't have (I can't think of a better word). Well he does have a shell but it doesn't function in the same way that his brothers shells do, which leaves him with less defense than they have, hence a big reason for the battle shell (I hope I explained this well, it was hard to try and word properly). I can't think of a good way to do this with dinos. I was thinking of a carno or something with tiny arms, then Donnie could have tech enhanced arms but I'm pretty much ignoring body structure in the others so it would be weird to have just Donnie be affected by a difference in limb structure/functionality. I was thinking prosthetic tail but every non avian dinosaur had a pretty substantial tail. Except therizinosaurus but even they hade pretty obvious tails. I'm open to suggestions for this one if anyone has ideas. It does have to be an extinct non-avian dinosaur (anything not in Avialae), preferably carnivore but if someone suggests a really good herbivore or omnivore then I can try and swap Mikey for a carnivore. I want there to be an even split. I also wanted to give him something different on his face, like his brothers, and that could only be a little spino crest and it crowds the top of his head but I can't put it anywhere else...

Leo - A type of Dromaeosaur. I was tossing up between this and a dilophosaur where his red stripes were part of the dilo's crest, cause I wasn't sure about giving him feathers. But dilo Leo was so plain compared to the rest and the crests were hard to get looking right so I went back to raptor Leo. I can definitely imagine him literally and metaphorically preening his feathers too. You can't really see it but he does also have that big raptor claw. Raptors were smart, tactical and worked in packs so I think that suits him. I wasn't specifically referencing how some artists draw Leo's stripes coming off his face (I was just trying to replicate his stripes somehow, even though it doesn't make a huge amount of sense) but I realised afterwards that it kinda looks like that and might have been subconsciously inspired by it.

Mikey - Is an Ankylosaur. I'm pretty happy with the species but I need to work out the design of his armour plating so that it looks interesting, cool and protective but isn't too chunky, too pointy or super lumpy looking. I went with an anky cause Mikey is often hiding in his shell and he can't do the same here but he could curl up in a defensive ball. Plus I could imagine him using his tail club in his razzmatazz fighting style. A little like his kusari-fundo or nunchacku/nunchucks (not sure on proper wording).

[kateksmallcuteowl]

June 29: Single Parents/Uncles AU for an event by @bagginshieldweek24

I deeply regret that the challenge is a day late! Exams are merciless to me, and even though I started drawing in advance, I still couldn’t handle the deadline 😅 I promise to catch up with feedback tomorrow, after passing bioinformatics exam.

More headcanons and details under the cut>>

— It’s an alternative Middle-earth universe with hobbits, humans, dwarves, and elves, but set in modern times.

— Thorin grew up in Erebor in a royal family (which makes sense), is accustomed to good coffee, can distinguish different types, and knows which brewing devices are best. Now he has moved to London for work and discovered that both dwarf and human coffee shops would often use cheap beans or bad coffee machines, or they grind the beans incorrectly, or even set the wrong amount of grams of coffee per espresso shot. In general, they save money wherever they can, mostly selling the vibe and relying on the fact that taste isn’t important to most of the customers. Elves occupy the niche of coffee connoisseurs, but Thorin would rather drink filter coffee from a kettle on the roadside than go to elves. And then he discovers that hobbits, little hedonists, love good food and GOOD COFFEE! Of course, in hobbit cafes, he has to sit on low chairs and by the small tables, and at first, the other patrons looked at the dwarf in their company strangely, but it’s worth it. Thorin is willing to sit with a bent back if he gets a quiet and cozy atmosphere, excellent Wi-Fi, and delicious coffee (an office in London is good, but sometimes you need to get out of the four walls to not get nuts).

— Thorin rarely drinks pure espresso, preferring softer variations. He also has a sweet-tooth.

— Bilbo is a children’s book writer, mainly known for a series of fantasy novels about a brave hobbit who traveled over and under the mountains, rode in barrels, and played riddles in the dark (Bilbo, in canon, wrote his memoirs, which all hobbits except Merry and Frodo knew primarily for Hobbiton children, so I think he would primarily write for little hobbit kids).

— It’s not a real feather he uses, but a ballpoint pen with attached feathers, like those sold in souvenir shops. Bilbo bought it after a tour to the Tower of London. He likes the ✨vibe✨ and the fact that he can twirl the feather part around his lips when he’s thinking. (It’s literally an instruction on how to seduce Thorin)

— Mr. Baggins only drinks doppio. The cup is big compared to him because it’s hobbit ceramics, and the portion sizes for hobbits, who love treats, are no smaller than human ones.

— Bilbo has taken care of Frodo since his parents drowned in an accident. Frodo is about 8-9 years old here.

— I love the headcanon that hobbits’ ears react to their emotions, so the fact that Frodo doesn’t lower them when Bilbo scolds him is a good sign. Bilbo is a good uncle.

— Thorin and Bilbo have seen each other several times on Wednesdays. Usually, they don’t care about other patrons, but barista keept trying to serve a doppio to the stern scowling dwarf in black leather jacket, and a cappuccino with whipped cream to the little curly hobbit in a plaid sweater. They’ve had to swap their drinks several times.

— Thorin read Mr. Baggins’ books to his nephews in Erebor and quickly figured out who always sits at the table near the window in his favorite cafe. Thorin likes Bilbo’s books but doesn’t know if he’s married because he keeps his personal life private. Seeing Frodo, he immediately assumed he was Bilbo’s son, considering how the little hobbit looks at him.

— Bilbo immediately noticed the stern ( handsome) dwarf sitting with his eyes glued to his phone, but he always felt too awkward to speak with him. How do you even start a conversation with a stranger, especially from another race? So when Frodo, rather bluntly, commented on his appearance, of course, Bilbo was embarrassed. No, he absolutely agrees with Frodo. The exotic braids, unusual for short-haired hobbits, look amazing on the tall dwarf, and the iron clips highlight his blue eyes perfectly, but isn’t that a bit rude to point that out? Wouldn’t a dwarf decide that he is trying to mock his culture?

— Bilbo saw that while he was scolding Frodo, Thorin turned away and for some reason tugged angrily at his braid, so he decided to muster the courage and compliment him himself to ease the awkwardness and not seem rude (not at all because he would gladly say what Frodo did himself and not because Mr. Dwarf has much more attractive features he’d also like to make a comment on, not at all, what are you talking about, no-no-no).

— The dwarf didn’t seem offended at all.

— They started talking and found out that Thorin’s nephews love Bilbo’s books (Bilbo was flattered by this news. He’s still surprised when his books are read by anyone other than hobbits. (Gandalf didn’t tell him that his books are popular among all races. Mostly because for other races they play the role of kids books where main protagonist is a cute mice)).

— And in the end, as we see, they exchanged numbers 🌚🌝

— They will meet again, but without Frodo and not just for coffee.

— The end✨✨✨

I’m still experimenting with a flat-color style and lineart so I’ll be glad to know what do you think about it. Hope the comic was enjoyable!

[hyperactively-me]

king!ghost x princess!reader au

this brainrot has taken over my head the past few days. i'm not sure if i want to keep it to blurbs or if it will turn into a full-fledged fic......i'll see what i feel like doing soon. anyway, this post will be the masterlist for this au of mine cause i already have a few blurbs and headcanons in the drafts tee hee. i appreciate any interaction / feedback

A/N: so originally i was going to keep this to blurbs, but the whole thing gained quite a bit of popularity! so therefore, laid before you, is about 100k+ words written! have fun reading!

(BEST READ IN ORDER)

one two meeting proposal knife journey questions massage harsh contact introductions three the wedding the reception bedtime four names sword fighting slip up lessons sick knight!soap boat almost learning, growing exploratory go again distracted suspicious hand to hand, man to woman watching punch wishes hair jealousy, jealousy general vows reading anger more jealousy attack ball nightmare jousting knife explained archery forest's edge war separation duties taken home (pt 1) home (pt 2) taken (simon's pov) safety measures it's always dinner uncle and aunt

you decide (basically, you can choose if you view this as canon or not lol) tbd

extras (these occur at no particular point in time unlike the works above ^^, so these can be read as standalone. they are also canon.) puppy love upside down poison eavesdropping staring problem oddball beach episode

non-canon alternate ending to 'anger' what if you never learned to love him like you've seen a ghost

fun little extra: meme for 'taken'

[halfvalid]

the blade daughter, pt. 1

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8.3k this part

description: as the daughter of dracule mihawk, you've been living alone at home, unwilling to go out and find a life of your own due to the belief that your father needs you around. but when he sends you off to buy him a jacket, you end up running into a pirate crew—and a particular swordsman—that end up changing how you feel.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, sexual harassment (from nameless OC), slow burn

author’s note: finally she's here! i'm posting it spaced out because i don't want to overload you all with a 23.6k fic in one post... IMPORTANT NOTE: i did some research from the animanga for mihawk's personality, weapons, and home, but this is still very much only a fic for OPLA and not the other iterations of the material.

the fic is not exactly only a romance; it focuses a lot on the reader's personal character development along with her relationship with mihawk too. i hope you guys don't mind! i kind of lost the plot lol.

reader is mihawk's biological daughter, but is stated to take after her mother and doesn't bear similarity to mihawk. so the fic is poc reader friendly!

Your dad was late to dinner again. 

To be fair, Dracule Mihawk didn’t exactly follow a schedule. He was fickle—back when you’d been a girl, he’d been around all the time, because although he was a lot of things, Mihawk was not an absentee parent. But as you’d grown older, he started being less strict, leaving you alone for days and weeks until you’d finally matured into an adult. Mihawk spent most of his time away from the house, now—but you agreed to have dinner together every week, no matter what part of the ocean he was in. 

And he was late. 

You’d started cooking the meal early, only for Mihawk to not show up when everything was ready. Or after everything was ready. Or even when everything had cooled, and you’d eaten your fill, and waited in your chair for him to arrive. He finally showed up a quarter past two in the morning, the doors of the dining room bursting open to announce his entrance. 

You cracked an eye open from where you’d been dozing in your seat. “You’re late.” 

“I’m sorry, darling,” Mihawk said, taking his hat off and bowing with a flourish. He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “I got a little busy. Garp had me deal with a pirate in the East Blue.” 

You made a face at him as he sat down to eat. “Could’ve at least let me know. Den den mushi exist for a reason.” 

“Ah, well, my apologies.” Mihawk sighed, dramatic as ever—you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at him for more than a few minutes, though, something he knew well. “It would’ve gone quickly had some upstart not challenged me to a duel. So I had to spend the night.” He tsked, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “And then I went to visit an old friend. Red-haired Shanks.”

“I remember him.” You got up from your seat, moving to the kitchen to rifle in the icebox for a popsicle. “Another duel? What’s this week’s body count?” 

“You know I don’t tally such trifling matters, sweetheart,” Mihawk said. You shrugged, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen to watch him start eating. “This pasta is cold.” 

“Wasn’t cold four hours ago,” you said, languidly licking at your popsicle. “No sympathy here, dad.” 

“Fine,” Mihawk said. “Anyway, I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of the man. Tall, green hair, three swords.” He wrinkled his nose. “Said people called him the Demon.” 

“Roronoa Zoro,” you affirmed, slipping into the chair beside your father. “Scariest pirate hunter in the East Blue. You killed him?” 

“Clearly not much of a pirate hunter, considering he’s a pirate now,” Mihawk said, the scrape of his knife and fork ringing around the room. “Joined the man I Garp sent me after, this little boy in a straw hat. And no. I let him and his crew go.” 

You paused, voice faltering as you registered the words. “You let him live?” 

“Yes. He was rather interesting. I expect he’ll come find me later,” Mihawk answered. You stared at him, still baffled. Your father was a lot of things, but a man of mercy was not one of them. Your earliest memory of him exacting his power over others was when you’d been two, watching from your crib as he speared the nanny for calling you a brat. A touching gesture, for certain, but still. “But enough about work. How have you been, little hawk?” 

“Bored,” you said with a sigh. “It’s so dull on this island.” 

Mihawk looked amused. “You could leave. I’m not restricting you here anymore.” Back in your teen years, Mihawk hadn’t let you leave the house—something about enemies wanting to kill his daughter or whatever else nonsense. He’d trained you personally, though, so you were nearly as fearsome as your father—able to beat anyone in combat in the blink of an eye. “You don’t have to stay.” 

“The house would get all dusty,” you protested, lips tugging into a line. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t done any exploring. Mihawk had taken you to all four seas throughout your adolescence, and you’d taken vacations to everywhere of importance. You just—didn’t have much of a point to leave, really. You very much preferred not to, something tying you firmly to the island, to your castle. “And besides, where would I even go?” 

“I hear the East Blue is interesting this time of year,” Mihawk said. “You could venture around here, but…” He shrugged. “The Grand Line is dangerous.” 

You made a face. “I’ve lived here my entire life. I can take care of myself.” 

“Certainly,” Mihawk agreed easily. “But it’s simply not worth it. You really should get out more, dear. It’s not good for your health.” 

“Maybe,” you said, but you weren’t very enthusiastic about it. “Here, I’ll clean Yoru for you while you finish eating.” You moved around the back of his chair, lifting his sword off the jacket he hadn’t bothered to shed from his back. You grimaced upon seeing a line of dried blood along the blade. “Dad.”

“Sorry, dear,” Mihawk said, and you rolled your eyes, carrying the sword over to the living room. You set Yoru down with a heavy thud, pulling out a box of materials. Mihawk came over to watch you, one arm propped against the doorway as his aureate eyes gazed down as you worked.

Compared to your dad, you looked relatively normal. You’d always taken after your mother—a mysterious woman you barely had any memories of—and the relation between the two of you was never immediately obvious. The fact your eyes were plainly normal instead of bearing the golden hawk eyes Mihawk had was another factor added to that, too. 

You pulled out a bottle of oil, pouring it generously over Yoru’s blade before grabbing a cloth to carefully wipe it with. “Where in the East Blue?” you asked abruptly, not looking up. Mihawk’s fork clinked along the ceramic of his bowl, presumably surprised you’d actually consider the offer of leaving. 

“Well, I could send you out to run some errands if you wish. I’ve got some things to attend to,” Mihawk optioned. “There’s this one store in Loguetown with a rather nice jacket I’ve had my eye on.”

You shot him a disbelieving look. “You want me to go to the East Blue to buy you a jacket.” 

Mihawk shrugged. “My birthday’s coming up.” 

“No, it’s not.” You slid your rag along the edge of Yoru’s blade, folding it in half before wiping the entire thing again to ensure there was no grime left. “Finished. Maybe I’ll just stay—” 

Mihawk gave you a look. 

“Fine. Loguetown it is,” you said with a sigh. “Don’t give me a crew. I’ll just take one of the sloops. I’ll get your dumb jacket for you.” You got up, tossing the cloth over a shoulder to hand wash later. “I’ll leave later today.” 

Mihawk clicked his tongue. “You’re so enthusiastic, darling. I can practically see the excitement oozing off of you.” 

You rolled your eyes, moving past him to go up to your room. “Short trip,” you said. “No more than a couple of days.” 

“The little hawk, so incited to leave the nest.”

“Shut up.” 

Mihawk had complied with your wishes, as when you woke up the next morning, he had already prepared a sloop for you to board alone. You packed some of your things, not being too fussy about the clothing or other objects, knowing that the boat was already well-stocked on its own. Mihawk waited to send you off, though you knew he probably had affairs to attend to by now. 

“Be good, darling,” he said, while you were loading up the last of your stuff. Just like your father, you preferred to wear your sword on your back; a present he’d given you at the age of thirteen. “I’ll call you. I’ve got business in the South Blue.” 

“Have fun,” you said, and he kissed the back of your hand before pushing you off. 

Loguetown was just how you’d remembered it, buzzing with civilians and pirates alike. The stores were plentiful, and filled to the brim with customers—it was all a little overwhelming compared to the peace and quiet you were used to. Still, it wasn’t a bad place to stay for a few weeks, and you might as well take your time there. 

You slung your coat on as you exited the docks, glancing around the town in search of something to do first. Since you weren’t especially interested in retrieving a jacket for your father just yet, you beelined to the nearest tavern to grab something to eat. It was a lot easier traveling without Mihawk at your side—as much as you loved him, he had the habit of attracting both trouble and fear wherever he went, and he was near impossible to go out with. 

The tavern was full, but not too crowded, and you managed to slip over to the bar without much trouble. It seemed to mostly consist of pirates—rough men with flowing jackets and holsters of guns and swords at their hip, clustered together in groupings that clearly proved their alliances with each other. You were one of the only patrons who was alone.

You gestured for the barkeep, and she bustled over from where she was serving a particularly ragtag group of pirates. They were mismatched, colors oddly paired—a girl with neon orange hair, a short man with a straw hat, one wearing a flowery shirt and goggles and the last man dressed in clothes far too formal for a bar. “What can I get for you?” she asked, a thick brogue dragging down her words. 

You told her your drink order, still eyeing the group. The barkeep followed your vision and let out a sigh. “Don’t bother. Three men have already tried to capture him for the bounty.  Broke half my furniture. And we got a rule here, anyway—no fightin’.” 

“Does he have a bounty?” you asked with a frown. She scoffed. 

“Does he ever. Thirty million berry, child. Highest in the East Blue.” She shook her head. “That crew won’t let anyone touch ‘im. Hell, I think his first mate’s still outside cleaning up the bodies.” She sighed again. “Well, I’ll have that drink out for you in a moment.” 

You nodded, slipping into the closest available chair. Now that you were paying attention, you could see practically every pair of eyes fixed on the group—specifically, on the man in the center wearing the straw hat. 

Before you could ask another question, the door to the tavern opened, and a lean, green-haired man filled the doorway. You glanced over at the barkeep, a flash of recognition in your eyes. “That’s Roronoa Zoro.” 

“Aye,” she said, setting your drink in front of you. “If there’s someone who might be able to cash in that bounty, it’d be him. But believe it or not, he’s with the Straw Hat.” 

You watched as the pirate hunter made his way to the table the others sat at. The glint of his famed three earrings reflected off the tavern lights, and the sword on his hip swayed as he walked—but there was only one rather than the three you’d heard tales about. “Yeah, my father said something of the sort.” 

The barkeep hummed, turning to attend to a pirate who’d taken a seat at your left. “And who’s your father, lass?” 

“Dracule Mihawk.” 

The pirate beside you raised his head, turning towards you in almost alarm. Beside him, his crew quieted, and the barkeep glanced up to meet your eyes. “Dracule Mihawk?” she repeated incredulously. 

“He sent me to buy him a coat,” you said. “I don’t suppose you know where any shops are around here?” 

“Er, there’s a shop off main you might want to see,” the barkeep said, eyes flickering over to the pirate crew that had changed their focus to you. “Anything else for you, then?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” you said, taking another sip of your drink. She nodded, leaving the bar in favor of moving over to another table. The pirate beside you turned slowly, stool scraping against the floor as he sneered down at you.

“Dracule Mihawk’s daughter, eh?” he asked. “Care if I buy you a drink?” Behind him, the rest of his crew tittered. You just sighed.

“Sorry, my father doesn’t let me go out with anyone who hasn’t bested me in combat.” You knocked back the rest of your drink, glancing up and down the pirate’s figure. He didn’t look like much—two pistols strapped to the hip, a longsword on the other, a raggedy leather jacket with a hat to match. 

The pirate scoffed. “Please,” he said, though you could see his skin turning rapidly crimson. “I doubt you’re even related to him. No hawk eyes or nothing.” 

You met his gaze, lips tightening into a line. “I take after my mother.” 

“Biggest lie I ever heard, aye, crew?” The pirate turned back towards the rest of his men, and they cheered in agreement. You huffed out a sigh, trying your very best not to turn combative—despite everything, you were proud of your relationship with your father, and anyone trying to call you a liar for your lineage just left you vexed and angry. Before you could step away, though, the pirate turned towards the rest of the tavern, apparently having had a bit too much liquor. He raised his voice, practically yelling now. “Oi! This girl thinks she’s the daughter of Dracule Mihawk!” 

Out of your peripheral vision, you saw Roronoa Zoro look up, the rest of his crew glancing over at you at the words. You were distracted within a second, the pirate shoving your arm. “Hey, don’t look away, girl. I’m trying to—” 

You grabbed onto his wrist, nails razor-sharp as they embedded into his skin. “Don’t touch me.” 

“Oh, you think you’re tough, do you?” The pirate yanked his hand out of your grip. “Did your daddy teach you how to fight, huh? Think you can beat me?” 

“I know I can beat you,” you answered. The pirate reached for his sword, then, fingers tightening around the hilt. 

“Alright, let’s make it a bet then. You beat me, I believe your claim about being Mihawk’s daughter.” His lips curled back into an ugly sneer, and you debated stepping out of the conversation and just going off to find that shop for your dad’s coat anyway. Fights like these were never worth getting into, and you really didn’t want to break any more of the barkeep’s furniture after she’d let out her annoyances to you. 

Before you could, though, the pirate opened his big mouth once again. 

“I beat you, and you go to bed with me.”

You were whipping your sword out before you could even think, red flashing in your vision as you scraped your blade out from the holster on your back. The metal gleamed under the lights, white steel bright as day as you leveled it in your hand. It wasn’t the largest weapon, a perfectly balanced cut-and-thrust spadroon with a golden hilt wrapped in white ribbon. You tightened your grip on the handle. 

“I beat you,” you hissed, voice low, “and you’re dead.” 

He lunged for you, pulling his sword out in one solid stroke and meeting yours in a loud clang. You shot an apologetic look towards the barkeep, spinning on your back leg and kicking the pirate away. The force caused him to stumble, sword skittering to the side as you shoved it off your blade. 

One of his crew members had cocked a gun to your head, and you spun your swords toward him, blade cutting through the metal like it was butter. The rest of the crew stepped back, one or two of them lunging for you. You parried all of their attacks, shoving them to the ground until they stopped trying to fight. 

The captain had gotten up, a fierce snarl upon his face as you slammed your blade down towards him. He blocked it with his sword, and then went for various attacks towards your figure—you dodged each one of them, parrying them easily as you moved backwards. At the last one, you used your weight to buck the sword back in his direction, and he stumbled again. 

You ducked down, sweeping him off his feet with a well-aimed kick to his shins, and he fell, sword clattering out of reach as he dropped flat on his back. You towered over him, pointing the edge of your blade at his throat. 

“You want me to go outside to kill him?” you asked. The barkeep sighed. 

“If you don’t mind, lass.” 

“Not at all.” You bent over, grabbing firmly onto the pirate’s shirt and yanking him upwards. His crew made a move towards you, but you just shoved your sword in their direction, and they stepped away. You spun your sword’s hilt around in your hand with a flourish, then started dragging the captain out the tavern door. 

“No—wait—let me go,” the pirate begged, once you dropped him to the gravel outside and moved your sword to his throat again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t mean it—you’re a pretty girl, that’s all—” 

“I don’t date men who can’t beat me in combat,” you said coolly. “Lower your expectations.” With that, you spun your sword again, sliding it back on the holster of your jacket. “I’ll let you live just this once. If you ever make any comments towards a woman again—” 

“I get it. I’m sorry,” the man said, scrambling to his feet. You just eyed him. 

“I need another drink.” 

The tavern was dead silent when you returned to your seat, gingerly sitting back down on the stool you’d first occupied. “Another drink, if you don’t mind,” you said to the barkeep, and she nodded. A moment passed as she filled your mug, and then she asked—

“Is Dracule Mihawk really your father?” 

“Unfortunately,” you muttered, taking the drink she offered and taking a swig. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the Straw Hat pirate and his crew muttering amongst themselves. One of them nudged Roronoa Zoro in the side, and he grimaced, the loose shirt he wore parting with the motion. You caught a glimpse of bandages, wound tight with blood seeping through a familiar line. Yoru’s doing. 

Zoro stood up, making his way over to the bar beside you. He propped his elbows on the table, but he didn’t sit, nodding at the barkeep. “Another round for my friends,” he said. His voice was quieter than you’d expected; a low mutter and almost soft in timbre. He glanced over at you, eyes flickering down and up again before he spoke. “I tried to kill your father.” 

“Yeah, he told me,” you said. “Roronoa Zoro. What happened to your other two swords?” 

Zoro scoffed. “Your dad.” 

“He can be a little dramatic sometimes,” you said apologetically. He glanced over you again.

“You don’t look much like him.” He paused. “Figured I’d know if Mihawk had a daughter.” 

“I take after my mother, and he’s very overprotective,” you said, getting just the slightest bit annoyed about everyone questioning your parentage. The barkeep returned then, sliding five beers across the table over to Zoro, and you stood up. “Now if you’d excuse me, I have some shopping to do.” 

You exited the tavern after paying your tab, wandering around the streets of Loguetown to find the closest clothing store. Your father’s style was ridiculously grand, so it’d be something in the nicer branch of the city—you had just entered your best guess when you pulled out a shell phone, pushing the little snail into your ear and calling your father’s number. 

He picked up on the first ring. “What is it, darling?” 

“Did you have a specific coat in mind?” You glanced through a row of black leather, trying to find one that’d match Mihawk’s liking. “I’m at this place called Lady Tide’s Dressing Boutique. It’s the bougiest place I could find.” 

“Lady Tide’s would be correct,” Mihawk said. “I trust your taste. Pick something I’d like.” 

“You better be paying me back for this,” you threatened, turning the corner as you spoke. You jumped back in surprise, letting out a squeak as the Straw Hat pirate from before appeared right in front of you, a grin stretching up his face. 

Mihawk’s laugh crackled through the line at your surprise. “Get startled, dear?” 

“The pirate Garp sent you after is stalking me,” you deadpanned. The Straw Hat pirate’s grin only widened. “I’ll call you back.” 

You hung up, taking the den den mushi out of your ear and back into its case. “What?” 

“You’re a really good fighter,” the Straw Hat said brightly. “I’m Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m going to be King of the Pirates. You should think about joining my crew!” 

“I—” you stared at him in disbelief, mind reeling from the whiplash of his words. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not a pirate.”

Luffy tilted his head to the side in question. “But your dad is Mihawk.”

“That doesn’t make me a pirate. I just stay at home for the most part,” you said. Luffy continued following you around the store, however, even as you stepped past him to browse more jackets. You glimpsed the rest of his crew hanging around the store, though none seemed to do any actual shopping. You figured Lady Tide’s was probably out of their price range. “Why are you still following me?” 

“I think you should join my crew,” Luffy repeated. “Have you ever been to the Grand Line? That’s where we’re headed next.”

You gave him a look. “I live in the Grand Line.” 

“Whoa,” Luffy breathed. “Well, you must know all about it, then!” 

You turned away from him, picking a jacket off the rack in front of you and appraising it. Golden buttons, long tailcoat, wide lapels—not really Mihawk’s taste. You set it back. “Not really,” you finally answered. “Like I said, I stay at home for the most part. Haven’t done much exploring.” 

“Don’t you want to?” Luffy asked, taking a step closer to you. You flinched. “Your dad’s one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea! You should be going out and adventuring, not just staying at home and doing whatever Mihawk tells you to!” 

“Don’t,” you snapped, voice low. “I stay home because I want to. Not because my dad forces me to.” Your words bore no lie, but still, there was a rumble of uncertainty deep in your gut. Mihawk had always been supportive, but pirating had always been his thing. You preferred the solace of your own home, and there was no point in adventuring when Mihawk had seen it all before. 

“I’m just saying, what do you even do all day?” Luffy asked with a quirk of the lip. “Stay home and clean? Go out once in a while to buy groceries or get stuff for your dad?” He gestured at the coat you were holding, and you flushed, shoving it back onto the rack. “Isn’t it boring? Don’t you want more than such an average life?” 

“I’m perfectly happy with my life right now, thank you,” you snapped. “Go preach to someone else.” 

Luffy had stopped walking, then, looking at you with an almost sympathetic expression on his face. “Living isn’t the same as thriving, you know,” he said. “You should go out. Find adventure. Aren’t there things you want to know? Questions you want answered?” 

“Luffy.” You turned to see Roronoa Zoro move to his captain’s side, head dipping as he spoke to him. His tone was quiet, but you could still overhear— “Leave her alone. We’ve got business.” 

Luffy looked dejected at that, but he agreed, bowing his head towards you before turning to the rest of his crew. They’d gathered by the mouth of the store, engaged in their own various activities as they waited. You watched Luffy turn to leave, words climbing up your throat even as you tried to swallow them down. “Wait!” 

Luffy turned, that bright smile reappearing on his face. “What?” 

“I want to know one thing,” you said, taking a step closer to the captain and his first mate. You glanced up at Zoro, who met your gaze. His face seemed carved of steel, skin bearing no grimace, eyes betraying nothing. “Why did my father let you live?” 

Zoro looked away, and you realized he probably didn’t know the answer himself. Before you could speak again, though, Luffy interrupted. 

“Because Zoro’s the best,” he declared, capturing your attention away from the injured swordsman. He slapped Zoro’s bicep with a heavy thud, and you were surprised when the other man didn’t even flinch. “And he’s gonna be better than Mihawk one day. He’s going to defeat him in a duel and take his title and become—” 

“The world’s greatest swordsman,” Zoro finished. The words were muttered under his breath, clearly to himself rather than intending for you to hear. 

You watched them for a moment before finally turning away. “Okay,” you said. “Good luck with that.” 

Luffy stared at you for a moment longer, but Zoro was already turning away and walking towards the rest of the crew. There was an unsettling feeling in your gut, one you tried to squash. Whatever—you had better things to do than worry about some Straw Hat pirate and a retired pirate hunter. 

You returned to your browsing, looking through various jacket designs until you finally fell across one you were certain your father liked. It was ridiculously expensive, but your father’s taste had always been so—you purchased it without a second thought, slinging it across a shoulder and returning to your sloop for the rest of the day. 

To your great disappointment, the Straw Hat pirate’s words continued to echo throughout your head. His demeanor was off-putting, to say the least—the extreme amounts of candor and cheeriness he had made for a disorienting combination. Even as you tried to stop thinking about his terrifyingly honest words, you couldn’t. Don’t you want more than such an average life?

You sighed, mood irritable from the day's events. You’d returned to your sloop and hadn’t done much of anything for a few hours—past having a meal and cleaning up your boat, there was nothing to do. You mulled over your options, wondering if you shouldn’t just start the journey back home. But Luffy’s words came back to you. 

“I need a drink,” you muttered, donning your coat and leaving to attend the first bar you could find. 

You went someplace ritzy this time, near the peak of Loguetown where neon lights glimmered in the dark hour. It was crowded, and music blasted through the bar, pounding bass nearly making the floor reverberate. You slipped inside without much trouble, squeezing through the crowd and making way for the bar at the other end of the room. 

You bought yourself a drink, knocking it back in just a few gulps. There were marines patrolling around in the building, although none of them seemed too keen on completing any of their duties. Pirates walked around freely too, but these ones were more dignified than the ones you’d seen in the tavern at town. 

“You hear Straw Hat Luffy’s here at Loguetown right now?” someone muttered to your right. You glanced over with a furtive gaze to see who was speaking—two men, dressed in fine silks and coats. Swords dangled from their hips. Pirates, maybe, or pirate hunters. “His ship’s docked over by south port.” 

“You’re not going to try and nab him, are you?” the other pirate hunter asked, fingers pinched around a thin glass of something. “That bounty’s hefty, but fighting them’ll be…” 

“I’m getting a bunch of hunters together,” the first one said. “We’ll split the bounty. At midnight, once the whole crew’s asleep. I followed the navigator; seems they’re not leaving until the morning.” 

“Thirty million split between many isn’t much.” 

“Well.” The hunter made a vague gesture, a smirk playing at his lips. “I doubt we’ll all be alive by the end of the night, if you know what I mean.” 

“Right.” The second hunter downed the rest of his drink. “I’ll be there. Where’s the rendezvous point?” 

“Slip forty at south port. Come at midnight,” the first one replied. “My boat. Theirs is at fifty-two.” 

You turned away, knocking back the last of your drink before setting the glass back down on the counter. Your mind reeled, and you pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. Nearly eleven. Only an hour left. 

“Another drink,” you called, but you stopped after that one. Logically, you knew the Straw Hat crew would be able to handle themselves. Your father wouldn’t have let Zoro go had he not been an impressive fighter—and Luffy certainly had to have some tricks up his sleeve, having such a high bounty and all. But an ambush was an ambush. 

You needed to go home. 

You paid your bill and slunk outside, taking the long road down to the port. You were docked in the east, but you found yourself wandering towards south port, hands shoved in your pockets and sword heavy on your back. 

There was no logical reason to get involved with pirates, you tried to tell yourself. That was Dracule Mihawk’s area of expertise. That was Dracule Mihawk’s life. Not his daughter’s. You were not a pirate—there was no point in being one. Mihawk has done everything already. 

You stepped onto the pier of south port, the wooden ramp trembling under your feet. They were shoddily constructed; oak on water, with pegs every few feet or so and ropes thrown casually across the walkways. It was overcrowded with boats, too—ships of every kind and size, smushed into spots not big enough for them depending on how much you paid the dock men. The moon shimmered on the surface of the East Blue. She was calm today, waves lapping at the edges of the docks, tranquil in the night. 

You checked your watch again. Nearly midnight. 

Dock forty moored a relatively small ship, but it was crowded with men—ten or fifteen, maybe, and you knew they’d be killing each other when the fight was through. Thirty million berry divided between so many people was barely worth it. You slunk past them, counting the numbers of the boat berths. 

You knew the boat before you looked at the slip number based on appearance alone. It was large in size, a caravel sporting a gigantic goat figurehead. You stared at it, brows furrowed, jaw slack. Well, it was certainly a ship. There was a large sail boasting the ship’s jolly roger—a crudely designed skull and crossbones sporting the same straw hat their captain wore. 

With a sigh, you pulled yourself onboard, careful to not make a sound as you landed on the deck. It was quiet, but you doubted the crew didn’t have at least one lookout for trouble. You tiptoed around the mast, moving towards the foredeck.

You were just about to step a foot on the staircase when a gleaming katana came to your throat. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Roronoa Zoro was as calm as ever as he held a blade to your jugular, posture perfectly straight, eyes tilted in your direction. You glanced down at the blade, registering the smooth metal. It was the white-handled one; upon seeing it closer, you could better register its quality. It must’ve been insanely durable, more so than his other blades considering Yoru hadn’t shattered this one in battle—one of the strongest blades in the world. 

“What’s the sword’s name?” you asked. 

Zoro ignored your question. “What are you doing here?” he repeated. 

You sighed, turning towards him, although you were careful not to touch the sword. Zoro’s grip didn’t budge. “There are pirate hunters coming here,” you answered. “At midnight. An ambush.” 

Zoro still didn’t move. The night sky cast his entire face in shadow, the only light on board being a trembling lantern by the interior doors. You could just barely see the gleam of one eye, yellow light shining on his cheekbone. “Why would you come?” 

“Honestly, I don’t know,” you answered coolly. “My father let you go for a reason. It’d be a shame if you died before you realized why.” It was an easy lie—because the real reason was one you didn’t want to think about. Because Luffy’s words struck something in you. Because they rang true. 

“We don’t need your protection.” 

You shrugged, only one shoulder moving upwards before relaxing again. “Just a friendly warning.” 

Carefully, Zoro lowered his blade, the steel scraping along the edge of its scabbard opening before he slid it closed. “The Wado Ichimonji.” 

Your eyes were still on the sheathed katana. “Hm?” 

“The sword. Its name is Wado Ichimonji.” 

You tilted your head back, angling it towards the sword strapped to your jacket. “Hiru,” you said. “That’s mine.” 

“Day,” Zoro translated. “You have matching swords with your father?” 

“Just matching names,” you answered. “It’s a spadroon, not a kreigsmesser. Much smaller than Yoru. Birthday present. When I was thirteen.” 

Zoro eyed you. “I’ll wake the rest of the crew,” he said. “You can go.” 

You made no move to, consulting your watch as Zoro rang the ship’s bell. Five minutes to midnight. You could already hear the near-noiseless patter of footsteps on the pier. 

The orange-haired woman was the first out, fingers wrapped around a short wooden rod. She exchanged a look with Zoro, and he nodded towards the pier. She somehow knew exactly what he meant from that, dodging back inside the ship and returning, dragging a dark-haired man out. 

“Uh, what’s going on?” the man asked, stifling a yawn as he fiddled with a slingshot. Both Zoro and the woman shushed him. “Jeez, okay.” He noticed you then. “Oh, hey, you’re the hawk dude’s kid—”

“Shut up, Usopp,” the woman snapped. She’d moved by the boat’s side, ducked under the rim. The footsteps were getting louder. 

The blond man came out next, hands shoved casually in his pockets and dressed in clothes you genuinely did not think functioned as sleepwear. “Hunters,” the orange-haired woman said. “Ambush.” 

“Isn’t that lovely,” the blond man murmured. He caught your eye, and a smile lit up his face. “Well, hello there.” 

Both Zoro and the woman rolled their eyes. Before the blond could say anything more, though, the hunters’ footsteps abruptly stopped. 

The orange-haired woman spun up from her crouch, wooden stick extending into a long staff as she whipped it out. She slammed one end of the staff into an incoming hunter’s gut as he leapt aboard the ship, forcing him off the side of the vessel.

Everything happened all at once, then—you heard the slick shing! of Zoro unsheathing his katana, and the blond was up and running towards another gaggle of hunters within the second, legs flying in an assortment of well-placed kicks. 

You reached over your shoulder, tugging Hiru out of its straps. The blade shone bright under the moonlight, and you caught an incoming hunter’s sword with the lick of it, shoving him backwards as you spun.

“Why’s Mihawk’s girl here?” the blond called, as he slid across the deck, leg raising up into a spinning hook. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He met your eyes and winked, leaving you staring in utter disbelief until another hunter distracted you. “I’m Sanji!” 

“Okay?” you asked blankly, letting out a huff of exertion as you whipped your sword toward the hunter. He’d pulled out one of his guns, wielding his blade one-handed as he fumbled with the trigger. You breathed in, recalling your father’s words from the thousands of hours spent training. Take advantage of any imbalances, sweetheart. Focus on the center of gravity. 

You aimed a sliding kick at the man’s gun, using Hiru to push against his blade. The pressure caused him to fling halfway across the ship, body thudding against the mast before falling to the ground in a heap. 

“Impressive,” Sanji whistled from his spot across the ship. 

“Shut up,” Zoro and the orange-haired woman said in unison. Zoro was beside the fallen hunter in a second, katana slashing cleanly through his torso before he spun and shoved the blade straight into an incoming man’s stomach. Sanji just scoffed. 

“Show-off,” he said accusatively. Zoro rolled his eyes, turning towards Sanji to argue, when you glimpsed someone at his back. You lunged for the man, sword cutting cleanly through his jugular before he fell across the deck, decollated. 

Zoro turned, glancing over his shoulder at the body and then up at you. “You’re welcome,” you said, flicking Hiru to the side. Spatters of blood dripped off its blade. 

“...Right.” The number of hunters had considerably thinned, only three or four left. The orange-haired woman was still fighting two of them, placing hits of her bo staff along two mens’ skulls. Usopp had crouched by the forecastle, firing pellets off with his slingshot. Sanji dusted off the final two men, until only the ringleader was left. 

“Wait, wait.” The hunter backed away until he ran into the ship’s railing. He scrambled for his pistol, but as Zoro, Sanji, and the orange-haired woman advanced on him, apparently realized the idea was in vain. “We—we can talk about this.” 

“I don’t think we can.” You turned at the new voice, watching as Luffy slipped out from the captain’s chambers. His hand came up to adjust his hat, crowned atop his head as always. “You came aboard my ship and tried to hurt my friends.” 

The hunter’s jaw fell slack, mouth drying over as Luffy came to stand in front of him. The rest of the crew had parted to allow him space, and Luffy titled his head up, the lick of light from the lantern shining against his skin. A crescent-shaped scar under his eye glowed bright, the skin paler than the rest of his face.

“Gum gum…” he started, voice steadily rising in volume as he extended his hand backwards, fingers curled into a fist. To your surprise, his arm just kept stretching back, limb getting longer and longer with a distinctly rubbery stretch until it was all the way at the other side of the ship. “Pistol!” 

His arm snapped back all in one, knocking the hunter straight in the jaw and shoving him off the ship in one, devastating blow. You stared at his flailing body, watching as he dropped straight into the ocean ten or so meters away with a loud plop. 

You turned towards Luffy, one brow arched in question. “You’re a Devil Fruit eater?”

“The Gum Gum fruit,” Luffy said brightly. He adjusted his hat once more, fixing it atop his head before reaching an arm out to pat you on the shoulder. “Thank you for warning us. You’re a good person.” 

“Don’t mention it.” You glanced down at Hiru. “Have anything I can clean my blade with?” 

“Sure! Let Sanji cook you something while you’re here,” Luffy said. “It’s the least we can do.” 

“Of course,” Sanji said with a little bow. “What would you like? Name anything and I’ll make it.” 

You eyed him. “…Anything.” 

Sanji let out an exaggerated sigh. “So uninspired. Meet you in the kitchen, then. We can leave the mosshead to clean up the bodies.” 

The orange-haired woman just rolled her eyes. “I’m going back to bed,” she declared. She glanced over at you, appraising you in one solid sweep up and down your body. “I’m Nami.” 

With that final word, she departed, snapping closed her staff and slipping back into the boat. Luffy, Usopp, and Sanji shuffled into the boat, presumably the kitchen. Zoro just sighed, setting his katana to the side to start cleaning up the corpses left after the battle. 

You made no move to follow the others inside, watching as Zoro easily lifted up one of the hunters. The lines of his biceps strained as he climbed off the ship, still hefting the body before finally placing it down on the pier. 

“Just toss them into the ocean,” you called. Zoro glanced over his shoulder, registering you standing there. He picked another body up. 

“I don’t want to block our slip,” he answered. 

“Fair enough. Any oil around here?” You wandered to the ship’s side, glancing through the boxes fixed to the deck. Zoro gestured in some direction that harmed more than it helped, really, but you dug through some boxes before unearthing something you could clean Hiru with. 

You worked in silence, slicking the blade with the oil and rubbing off all the blood and mess that had gotten onto it. Zoro was quick, piling up all the corpses and barely-alive bodies by the dock. He shoved a few of them awake with his boot. “Go find a doctor,” you heard him mutter under his breath. You suppressed a laugh. 

Eventually, Zoro climbed back on board, searching for his sword only to find it in your hands. You carefully polished off the last of the blade, then presented it to him. “You’re welcome.” 

“…Thanks,” Zoro said, sheathing it in one smooth swipe.

“The cut,” you said, glancing down at his torso again. His shirt was covering the bandages, but you knew they were still there. “It was Yoru that did it. Not Kogatana.” 

“The big one, yeah,” Zoro answered. You watched him thoughtfully, although you didn’t say a word. He seemed to get impatient by that, and was speaking just a moment afterwards— “Why?” 

You gave a quick shake of your head. “Nothing,” you answered, the lie slipping easily off your tongue. But your mind churned with thoughts, the mere brain activity making your stomach curdle. It hadn’t clicked before, but now—your father didn’t use Yoru on anyone who wasn’t worthy. And letting Zoro live—letting the entire crew go, against Garp’s orders? 

This was a more interesting group than you’d anticipated. 

Zoro eyed you for a moment as you were lost in thought, though he didn’t say anything to interrupt you. Once you finally looked up, he adjusted, clearing his throat. “Should go inside to make sure the waiter isn’t burning down the kitchen,” he said, straightening.  

You stood up, sliding Hiru into its scabbard on your back. “The… waiter?” 

Zoro shook his head. “Long story.” He gestured with his head, nodding towards the double doors. “Kitchen.” 

You followed him, the soft aroma of garlic and meat wafting around the room the instant you stepped foot inside. Everyone was crowded around the kitchen island, propped on chairs and staring as Sanji prepared a meal before them. You joined the group, glancing over Usopp’s shoulder to watch. 

There was a stir-fry on the stove, garlic and onions joined by various other vegetables. Sanji drizzled soy sauce along the pan, scraping it around once with his spatula before turning down the heat. He added in some rice—leftover, it looked—along with some battered eggs, mixing it all together. 

“Vegetable and chicken fried rice,” Sanji said, turning off the heat once everything had cooked through and starting to distribute it into servings. “I went for something universal because I don’t know what you like.” He met your eyes, flashing a giant, warm smile again. You took the bowl he offered, fingers wrapping around the warm ceramic. 

“Thank you,” you said. The four of you stood in silence, and you had the feeling that you were intruding. The crew was a tight unit, that much was certain—wound tightly around each other, ropes intersecting in delicate knots and bows. You turned your attention to your meal. You hadn’t had a real supper, so the food was a welcome surprise, and it was damn near close to the best thing you’d ever tasted. 

“So,” Luffy started, “Not to bug you about it a hundred times, but…” You glanced up. His expression was earnest as he met your eyes, lips tugged upwards in an encouraging smile even as he spoke. “Are you joining us?”

“Am I—? Oh,” you said, realizing what it was Luffy was referring to. “Is the offer still standing?” 

“Always,” he answered brightly. “You’d be a good fit for our crew, you know.” 

Would you really? There wasn’t much of anything special about you besides your parentage. You were as skilled a swordswoman as any, but there were hundreds better and stronger than you. There was no one thing you truly excelled at. “I’ll think about it,” you said hesitantly. 

“Well, think quick. We leave at dawn,” Luffy said. “Meet us back here at blue hour if you’d like to join up.” He smiled again, all unassuming, and it was hard to believe a boy so pleasant had a thirty million berry bounty hanging suspended over his head. He yawned, stretching out his long limbs. “Well, I’m off to sleep. Sanji’s next watch.” He glanced over at Zoro. “Why don’t you walk her back to her slip, Zoro?” 

 Your brows furrowed, about to object, but Zoro was already standing up. He opted to say nothing, leaving you to set down your empty bowl and say your goodbyes in a hurry to follow him out. 

The bodies on the pier had thinned, the alive ones presumably having dragged themselves to town to find a doctor. Zoro stepped over the heap of corpses, and you followed suit, walking in silence down south port. “I’m a little far,” you said. “You might lose your way heading back.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Zoro dismissed. “I’m… sorry about Luffy. He can get overly enthusiastic.” 

“Oh, it’s fine,” you said with a shake of your head. “Are the rest of the crew open to me joining, though? It didn’t seem like he consulted any of you.” 

Zoro’s brows lifted at that, though you weren’t certain why. “We’re all fine with it,” he said eventually. “Luffy wouldn’t invite someone who wouldn’t fit.” He hesitated, the plod of your footsteps creaking against the dock walkway for a few paces before he parted his lips again. “I’m going to fight Mihawk again, you know.” 

“I figured,” you answered. You could feel Zoro’s eyes on you, scraping along your skin like they were blades themselves. 

“You’re not upset by that?” 

“Everyone wants to kill him for some reason or another,” you said. “You’re not the first.” Though there was something undeniably special about him. The fact he was still alive, for one. “I figure you’re a long way from that, so I’ll have a father for a few years more until you try to kill him again.” 

There was something in the way you phrased your words that sounded so very ironic, and Zoro couldn’t suppress the light grunt from escaping his lips. It was dry, brittle—but closer to a laugh than a scoff, you could tell. “Is that your blessing?” 

“Sure,” you said. “I, Dracule Mihawk’s daughter, hereby allow you, Roronoa Zoro, to murder my father in a duel.” The lightness in your tone dropped. “If you don’t mind me asking…” you took in a light breath, letting the taste of the words melt on your tongue before slipping them out. “Why do you want to, anyway? Defeat him, I mean?” 

“I made a promise to someone a long time ago,” Zoro answered. His footsteps slowed as you reached your slip, the small sloop you’d sailed all the way to Loguetown calm as ever where it was moored. The black sails—vague, nondescript—sucked away all the light the moon attempted to cast on it, so it was even darker than the rest of the surroundings. “I told her I would become the world’s greatest swordsman.”

“That’s heavy,” you remarked, turning to face your companion. His skin was waxy and dull under the moonlight—aftereffects of the injury he still hadn’t fully recovered from. Zoro just shrugged. 

“Maybe. It’s my life’s dream.” 

“He’s a good father,” you said. “I think he’d like you.” You paused. “Well, he does. He wouldn’t have let you live if he didn’t.” 

Zoro stiffened, the lines of his body tightening, spine pulling up just slightly. You noticed the change—you always did. Observation had always been one of your biggest strengths. Maybe you hadn’t gotten the golden irises your father had, but you had hawk eyes of your own in that way. Never missing a thing, picking out all flaws and details in a scene. “I’m not sure if I want him to like me.” 

“He doesn’t feel hatred for a lot of people,” you said. “Just disdain. Though I’m fairly certain he’d have skewered that drunk at the bar earlier if he’d been with me.” 

“The one who—” Zoro looked distinctly uncomfortable as he remembered what the pirate had offered you. He made a vague gesture instead, just mildly vulgar in motion. You suppressed a laugh. 

“Exactly,” you agreed. “He doesn’t have patience for that sort of thing. He also feels no man who’s weaker than me in combat isn’t man enough to be with me, though I have questions about that particular rule.” 

Zoro snorted. “You could definitely do better than the drunk pirate.” 

“Right.” You glanced up at the moon, watching the steady silver glow of her face along the edge of the horizon. She was full, round and white, soft powder creasing the dents and shadows of her face. “I’m out for the night, then. Thank you for walking me.” 

Zoro shrugged. He didn’t say anything, so you turned away, stepping onto your sloop without another word. You ducked into the interior room, closing the door firmly behind you so you could finally relax. 

You had only a handful of hours of rest ahead of you, after all.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

i'll be making a taglist for this series; just comment if you'd like to be added!

© halfvalid 2023

[beescake]

PLEASE PLEASE MEGADUMP THE ARASOL!!! PLEAAASEE MR BEESCAKE I AM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU

HFHGHD GLADLY aaa i’ve been adding notes to it here and there for months but just hesitant to post it bcs im 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂

also this is just my own takeaway of the events, it doesn’t necessarily comply to the Ultimate Truth of Canon-Alignment or represent the actual facts of what hussie intended! v sentimental smh but hopefully its still interesting to read

i love when characters inform each other by proximity, it's one of my fave things to see in media :') it feels even more significant when two characters deliberately choose to stick together, so that when one operates, you can tell the other is similarly aligned in associative solidarity.

sollux is a keystone of this trope — whoever he aligns with is a wordless statement, a nod of approval. this stood out to me bcs the main four humans were alr friends by default, but once you reach hivebent you realize the trolls can actively choose who they want to hang out with.

and as we all know, after assessing every troll's biases/loyalties, sollux is the only one who maintains his selective preference for innately Good 👍 people.

aradia is such a beautiful character honestly, she evokes such incredible feelings in me. she might not have been consistently written with care but the best parts of her character are truly stunning. i think it's easy to remember sollux as the self-sacrificing one bc he's so open about it (and his friends frequently react to his Moments) but when you compare him to aradia, it's always struck me

how much more. raw it is

to be so alone as an agent of time, having to orchestrate immeasurably harrowing events nobody understands or gives a fuck about

with your role painted in the story as one who must tend to the needs of the narrative, responsible to match every next note

because when you're given the capabilities, it becomes your duty to carry it out.

it becomes expected of you to keep experimenting and arranging the machinations to work for everyone, dusting off hundreds of necessary failures to keep going

and having to be so unwavering in your drive knowing miserably that there's no one who can help you but yourself.

or alternatively: to make things fun! so other people won't think twice about letting you go off on your own.

sure she's had some very good buds, notably thanks to Team Charge v Team Scourge antics.

and yet, at the end of the day, the one friend that kept choosing her time and time again was the friend with the highest standards.

i can see why people like to define arasol as moirails/matesprits but surprisingly i find the nondescript, unlabeled aspect of their relationship more straightforward to understand.

there's no shortage of people who would accommodate sollux. most of the surviving trolls are his oldest friends bcs he’d chosen them well. his transparency with his feelings had built him strong friendships that won’t falter or break, regardless of how much of a dick he can be. they’ve already seen and accepted him at his worst, and they still like him for who he is.

contrast that with aradia, who'd been so approachable, friendly and reliable in her exchanges it was super fun to talk to her. but the moment she became depressed, all her connections broke down.

her friends became hesitant to interact with her (until she became god tier, “happy” and amicable again) because her gloom and resignation didn’t serve them. she dealt with it alone.

there’s def something of note here abt the disparity between the way male & female characters are written+perceived in homestuck (esp parallel arasol with davejade) but i won’t go into that lmaoo

with this in mind i like to think of sollux as a gift to her, a loyal companion given to complement and commend her resolve. she's capable of doing so much alone but hussie took the time to build her and sollux's relationship as one of a unit; a set.

the ambiguity of their status does complicate things, but i do believe it makes sense with their characters. aradia's relationship with romance is a rocky one, the dubious stringalong equius had with her is a pointed reminder that her feelings of attraction are ultimately controlled by the author writing her.

unlike the other trolls who can openly address and own up to their crushes, aradia had romantic emotions forced upon her (especially when hussie implies 'she kissed equius back on her own volition'). and it seems like her character is so intrinsically neutral abt attraction that even when forced by the almighty powers above, she's unable to retain it wholly.

however, looking back to pre-game when she could actually "choose" her own feelings, she did have a crush on sollux.

their soft spots for each other were so obvious to the point where other people could see it.

taunting aside, when vriska comments on their unit as bf/gf it actually informs the audience that arasol's relationship is romantic in nature despite not aligning with the quadrant system.

even while dead, aradia could still describe her care for sollux, expressing that she would like to see him happy. if they had more time to explore their relationship on alternia, it's possible they could've settled in a quadrant once they grew older.

but going back to the lack of labels, their dynamic was affected once more when aradia became god tier.

to me, her ascension was both the perfect culmination and possible closure of her character. it's the light at the end of her journey toiling through countless of timelines where she had to actively assess and participate. that's why it's cool to see her being silly and having fun giving guidance, passively exploring and watching other people do their parts.

and yet the joy of her freedom makes it hard to explore further introspection. if we take her by her word, she'd already come to terms with the hurt she's been through and forgiven those involved.

i can't help feeling attuned to how impersonal and detached it can be, to devote and meld your identity so completely with your designated position as Maid of Time until you've become hard for your old friends (and even some readers!) to personally connect to.

idk post-canon but i assume there’s some degree of similarity to be bridged here with aradia's god tier and how the hs2 humans' Ultimate forms was described as a consolidation of all their possibilities. since aradia's classpect is inherently of service to Time, going god-tier may have elevated her beyond personhood with the "game construct" possessing her entirely. sollux doesn't realize the extent of it bcs he's still mortal, but a part of him may have subconsciously understood this.

i think there is a core aspect to aradia that was lost to the dehumanizing glory of god tier — a core aspect that may have contained an element of why sollux enjoyed talking to her in the first place.

to him, aradia hadn't just been a nice girl, she was a cool girl. despite not having much in common, he's still willing to chill next to her so she's not alone while she does what needs to get done.

back on alternia, they held a mutual and equal-level regard for each other that could've definitely settled into something permanent. but now, he's placed himself in a position where he can be kept around or left behind at will. the parameters of the relationship are largely in aradia's court, so any label she suggests to identify their relationship with he's likely to accept.

but that's why it's so difficult to label it. because god tier aradia may not necessarily Want quadrants or relationship labels. rather than the initial romantic attachment, their commitment to each other had evolved into one fundamentally of companionship.

no label? ok fine. no matter what, he still thinks she's a good soul worth latching on to. the best, actually. aradia > everyone else.

even if it gets stilted at times. there's an unexpected struggle to connect when sollux's go-to default for talking points is his feelings about things, and aradia may not want to talk about emotions all the time.

not to mention god tier aradia became an observer, especially of chaos. but sollux's avoidance of involvement comes partially from his innate pressure to get involved if something goes wrong. and he can't always tell when something goes wrong, because aradia doesn't mind if things go wrong anymore.

it's a non-negotiable preference that causes them to take the occasional time apart, a new boundary that wouldn't have existed before the game and aradia's god tier.

but just like how his friends tolerated his moods, sollux accepts aradia as she is. with no quadrants, their connection doesn't break down because there's no implicit romantic expectations to be disappointed by or resentful over.

sometimes when i see hs content that deliberately distances sollux from aradia, i assume this is the dissonance people might have felt. people might find it "easier" to be cynical about them bcs of this strange tension.

but idc lmao. grab that shit by the neck

lack of easy resolutions and cleanly tied ribbons is pretty standard of homestuck and imo it doesn't make arasol's dynamic any less incredible. with the right affection and consideration, there's still so much potential to develop the nuance of their relationship outside of the popular quadrant-based depictions.

hs has a lot of really great character compatibilities but the way aradia and sollux are in their own special orbit is why i can write this much about them in the first place. it's that frail innocence between first loves that makes it so sweet to me, two kids who grew up too fast playing guesswork without being clear where they're going.

ultimately i do think you're meant to feel a little tragedy for just how much they care for each other, even if they can't quite establish it in simple terms.

maybe they keep taking breaks to progress their own paths. maybe they remain as anchor partners while seeing other people. but even if you decide to separate them, they're still (awkwardly) texting each other updates all the while. and when they reunite it feels like coming home.

and well. more than anything, i like to believe that they do want to be exclusive.

they're just afraid. after all, they're still learning how to love, beyond the projections of the foursquare quadrant system they had inadvertently distanced themselves from since young.

they might not have everything figured out, but they'll get there eventually if you just hold them together and write them there.

optional post-canon segment:

one of the limitations of main hs is that (monogamous) relationships are often written as the go-to solution to wrap up character growth; it's an easy "patch" to imagine characters getting their happy ending because they have a partner, and those who don't end up with someone don't get that closure (most notably jade).

hs2 reaffirms this by suggesting that aradia's character cannot progress without letting sollux go, because happily settling in a relationship automatically locks your potential.

that pathetic panel of sollux staring emptily into the sky is still my fave hs2 spoiler ngl i find the impact of their parting so emotionally provoking precisely bcs they were written in original hs to be each other's forever, coming back together again and again

but now, they're subject to the decisions of the post-canon authors who might choose to deviate from that.

it's not new for them to part, but now there's an underlying worry that her dropping him off this time might be the last time. while i think the prospect of shattering their stability to make them grow separately sounds fun on paper, no amount of me desperately hoping for a good execution is gonna guarantee it

idk. i guess prediction-wise im expecting sollux in classic dramatic-hs2 fashion to tell dave to back off aradia LMAO. otherwise it's just gon be sollux and karkat pathetically watching aradia and dave from a distance swimming in their unresolved feelings for narratively-powerful time players smh obvs it sounds corny as hell but who knows its still plausible

srsly tho i hope they take the opportunity to develop arasol's relationship in a fresh direction that doesn't hurt me too badly...... and i hope they force sollux out of his comfort zone. i like watching him struggle :-)

[nightshadeweek]

Nightshade Week 2024 Prompts & Rules

Find the text version of the images in this post!

These are the prompts for Nightshade Week 2024!

The event has three themes: Headspace for fluffier and happier prompts, Whitespace for thematic prompts, and Blackspace for darker and angstier prompts. You can pick whichever suits you best, mix and match, or do your own thing.

Nightshade Week 2024 will run from Monday 25 November until Sunday 1 December.

Daily prompts

Some inspiration for each prompt.

Jokers are for when none of a day's prompts appeal to you, but you still want to follow a prompt and not borrow from other days.

The jokers are Alternate Universe, Truth/Lie, and Vulnerable.

Rules and Guidelines

Above all, have fun!

Enter the event however you would enjoy it most, that's all that matters. If you're interested in being reblogged by the account, these could be an interesting read.

What tag can I use?

You can use the Twitter tag #nightshadeweek2024 and the Tumblr tag #nightshade week 2024. You can also tag the account (@nightshadeweek on both platforms) if your entry wasn't seen or send a DM to the account.

How do I pick prompts?

You're free to use and interpret the prompts however you want. You don't have to do all the prompts, you can skip days, you can mix prompts, you can do prompts on different days, etc. If you want, you can also simply submit some Nightshade fanworks that don't follow any prompts. This event is all about celebrating Nightshade and creating new things for it together.

What content will be shared by the account?

This event is accessible to all ages. While canon compliant dark themes and gore are allowed, any works with sexually explicit content won't be shared by the account for this reason.

Do I have to complete every day or follow one category?

Not at all! You can do one day or all days. You can do one path or all paths. You don't have to follow a set path either; the categories are just there to give the prompts themes. You can do for example one Headspace prompt, two Whitespace prompts, and four Blackspace prompts. Mix and match as you see fit!

Can I submit late entries?

Late entries are definitely welcome! After the event has ended, I will still regularly check the tag and share late entries.

Can I add other characters and ships to my fanworks?

Go wild! The main focus should be on nightshade in order for it to be shared, but other characters and ships (including other Omori or Stranger ships) can be depicted as well.

Do my entries have to follow canon?

Nope! You can work within any canon you want, so long as the characters featured focus on Omori and Stranger in some way. You want to do the entirety of the week for an AU where they're real people? Go wild!

Can I make platonic works too?

Absolutely! All dynamics are celebrated here.

Let's see what beautiful creations y'all have in store, and I look forward to seeing the fanworks that flow from this!

[nessianweek]

✷ Announcing Nessian Week 2024! ✷

❤️‍🔥 Join us in celebrating Prythian's hottest couple for the fourth year in a row! ❤️‍🔥

Come celebrate Nesta and Cassian with us from September 15 through September 22, 2024! Feel free to participate in any way you can, from headcanons, fanart, moodboards, playlists, fics, drabbles…. no matter how big or small, anything celebrating Nessian is welcome! Please note this event will be happening on Tumblr, AO3, and Instagram only.

Please tag @nessianweek and use the tag #nessianweek2024 to spread the word! If you're posting on Instagram, please tag @/nessianweek2024!

You can find Nessian Week 2023's masterlist here, Nessian Week 2022's masterlist here, and Nessian Week 2021's masterlist here!

This year's prompts are as follows:

Day One: Banter ✷ One of our favorite things about Nesta and Cassian's relationship is their banter. They're always ready to go back and forth with one another, and we're always ready to see it. Show us your favorite Nessian banter, or come up with your own!

Day Two: Yearning ✷ Nesta and Cassian didn't immediately act on their feelings for one another, despite how badly we wanted them to. How do you see them handling all that longing?

Day Three: Symphony ✷ Music has played such an important role in Nesta and Cassian's relationship. What does that mean to you?

Day Four: Alternate Universe ✷ What do you think Nesta and Cassian's lives would look like outside of canon? How would they live in the modern world, a completely different fantasy world, or within the plot of your favorite book or movie? [Non-Canon AUs requested]

Day Five: Behind Closed Doors ✷ Nesta and Cassian's relationship when they're alone can be very different from what they show the world. How do you see them behaving behind closed doors?

Day Six: Legends & Destiny ✷ As Lady Death and the Lord of Bloodshed, Nesta and Cassian were destined for one another. What does their predestined love mean to you? How do you portray Lady Death and her Lord of Bloodshed?

Day Seven: Free Day ✷ Any topic of your choosing!

We look forward to seeing everything that you create for this event, and make sure to tag @nessianweek once the event starts! Thank you so much to everyone who has contributed to planning this event, with special shoutouts to @unhealthyfanobsession, @podemechamardek, @kale-theteaqueen, @talkfantasytome, @c-e-d-dreamer, @melphss, @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk, @separatist-apologist, @jsmelodies, @wishcamper, and @dustjacketmusings! Our lovely graphics were created/commissioned by @podemechamardek and the artwork was drawn by Pablo Souza (@/pablochmn).

Please contact this page if you have any questions about the event. We can't wait to see what you create to celebrate Nessian for the FOURTH YEAR RUNNING!

[timesorceror]

So I started this rec list sometime in mid to late 2024 after listening to @thisweekinfandomhistory's episode on the Crack Van, where one of the hosts commented (and I'm most definitely probably paraphrasing here) about how rec lists are something of a lost art.

This, combined with my burning desire to write a primer on Dreamling (in the hopes it could perhaps one day get covered on the pod) was what pushed me to start going through my 30-something pages of bookmarks (of which those occupy slightly more than a third of my total pages of bookmarks) and start categorizing them in preparation for this list.

Sorry about all the parentheses; I've very likely got some rather loud undiagnosed ADHD and cannot for the life of me keep my brain from interjecting with every single bit of information, relevant or otherwise. But, I digress.

There are ten posts included in this monster of a fic rec masterpost, and they are divided between Oneshots, Multi-Chaptered Fics, and Series. The reason for the divide is simple: Tumblr only allows 100 inline links per post, as I also learned from listening to the lovely ladies of the This Week in Fandom History Podcast.

The rec list posts are below the cut, along with a link to my masterpost Google Doc, an explanation as to the method behind my madness, among other things.

Oneshots - Part One Contains: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crossover

Oneshots - Part Two Contains: Fluff / Happy Ending, Fishbowl Rescue, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, New Inn Is A Temple

Oneshots - Part Three (NSFW) Contains: Accidental Vouyerism, Age Difference, BDSM, College / University AU, Centaur AU, Dragon AU, Dream Sex, Fantasy AU, First Time / First Kiss / Getting Together / Friends to Lovers, Fluff / Smut

Oneshots - Part Four (NSFW) Contains: Fishbowl Rescue, Hurt/Comfort, Medieval AU, MPreg / Breeding Kink, Nursing Kink, Omegaverse, Oviposition, Pacific Rim AU, Period Sex, Retired Dream of the Endless, Selkie AU, Sex Pollen, Shapeshifting, Star Wars AU, Stuck in An Airport AU, Soulmates / Soul Bond, Temporary Amnesia, Tentacle Sex, Touch-Starved Dream of the Endless, Venom AU, Werewolf AU

Oneshots - Part Five Contains: Soulmate AU (No Smut), Touch-Starved Dream of the Endless

Multi-Chapter - Part One Contains: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Crossover, Fishbowl Rescue, Fluff, Friends / Enemies to Lovers, Getting Together

Multi-Chapter - Part Two (NSFW) Contains: Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Swap, Canon Divergence AU, College / University / Academia AU, Creatures & Monsters AU, Dragons AU, Dream Sex, Established Relationship, Fairy Tale AU, Fantasy AU, Fishbowl Rescue / Hob Gadling Saves Dream of the Endless, Friends to Lovers, Fuck Or Die, Getting Together, Historical AU, Hob Gadling is Hope of the Endless, Hob Gadling Owns the New Inn

Multi-Chapter - Part Three (NSFW) Contains: Hurt/Comfort, Medieval AU, Modern Setting / Human AU, Monsterfucking, Omegaverse, Past Relationship(s), Period Sex, Retired Dream of the Endless, Roommates, Sex Pollen, Soulmates AU, Temporary Amnesia, The New Inn is a Temple, Touch-Starved Dream of the Endless, Vampire AU, Victorian AU, Werewolf AU

Series - Part One (A–L) Features series written by: acadethicc | AceDragonType | Aetheltrythh | Anonymous | apocryphal | Ardin | Aria_Lerendeair | aWordyBody | Bacota | BeatnikFreak | behold_me (feat. The_KickIt_Domain) | BuckytheDucky | chaosheadspace | charinabook | CourfeyracFredMariusCratchit | cuubism | dancinbutterfly (feat. Moorishflower) | Darci | Delta_Pavonis | Dira Sudis (dsudis) | everythingisconnected | foxish_nonsense | frihetkanske | GalaxyDreamStories | hardly_an_escape | honeyteacakes | IcePhoenix96 | im_not_corrupted | Ismene_Jane | issylra | Konstadt | LeotheLionathefootofOrion

Series - Part Two (L–Z) Features series written by: Lightning_glass42 | LikeMmmCookies | lithenemesis | LLflorence dreamling (LLflorence) | Maelstrom22 | MDJensen | Mondaysundayssadurdays | monobuu | MonstrousRegiment | MoonlightMav | Moorishflower | Mywayornorway | NyriaMizell | often_adamanta | Purplesauris | Sam_Salami | SerenAur | starsniper | softestpunk | Stormysaslytherin | slythernim | Sylcian_SPH_Legacy | tharkuun | The_Shy_One | TheFanficMustFlow | Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish | ThirtySixSaveFiles | Thranduilland | TimelessRiver | tinglingsensation | Torte | ObsessiveAgony | viiidispade | winterbucky (WinterLadyy) | Whoareyou0000 | zoomacroom

There will likely not be any more posts added to this, given the nature of how Tumblr posts work, but as I am still in the middle of my second run-though of the Dreamling ship tag's entire body of completed works, I will continue to update this Google Doc as I go (and whenever I comb through my Marked for Later tab and go through fics that are still there as well) that you may view at your leisure.

Note: this Google Doc is my personal fic rec list, and is not the be-all, end-all of Dreamling fics, despite how expansive it is. If there is a fic I have not added, it's very likely I did not read it because of a tag I'm not into (like Hurt No Comfort), or I read it and didn't bookmark it because I felt like I wasn't going to read it more than once. Or any other number of reasons, such as incomplete fics, which I rarely read these days unless it's a tag that I absolutely go feral for.

So don't DM me asking to add specific fics, please. Thanks. :)

I would like to explain that the Google Doc uses the tab function to separate the Oneshots, Multi-Chaptered Fics, and Series, and within each tab, they are further divided using the outline function.

The way I chose to organize the Oneshots and Multi-Chaptered fics was to start by thinking of this rec list as sort of like a menu at a restaurant by picking a main tag that I feel is the focus of the fic, and then further organize them by a sub-catagory tag (for example, I have Moorishflower's fic, Radio Silence, under the broad umbrella of 'Alternate Universe Oneshots' which is further organized under the sub-catagory, 'Post-Apocalyse AU'). Mostly I tried to follow this method by selecting two tags from the tag list of the fic, however not all fics I wanted to include HAD enough tags to use, or they had a bunch of hyper-specific, talk-commentary tags that I felt were not very compatible with the system I had worked out. So there are a few fics that I had to categorize or sub-catagorize simply based on vibes.

Hopefully, that explanation was sufficient, and I know that – given the current state of the fandom in regards to NG – some of these fics may one day become orphaned or be taken down. Unfortunately there is little I can do about that other than to encourage you to download any of the fics you enjoy so that you may continue to enjoy them if they disappear.

The purpose of this undertaking was more to challenge myself (and my patience) to see if I still had what it took to make a proper rec list and also to truly get a sense of Dreamling's major themes, tropes, and common tags so that I could list them out in the primer I still want to write for TWIFH.

That's... pretty much why this exists, though along the way, I was moved to finish this project for the sake of creating a snapshot of this particular ship's fandom at this particular moment in time. Whether or not it lasts remains to be seen, but I'm glad to have done it, and I hope that any fandom historians, as well as current and future fans of Dreamling appreciate my efforts.

I would also like to give a special shout-out to the @mr-sadman Discord, which also has a fic library of at least some of the listed fics for the occasions when AO3 goes down for whatever reason, as a good chunk of Dreamling authors and artists tend to congregate there and are all a bunch of lovely and wonderfully derranged people who have supported me in this endeavor.

So please, enjoy. Go forth and read fic.

All my love, TimeSorceror

[joelsdagger]

let it flow || one shot

frankie morales x reader

masterlist | ao3

pairing: sub!frankie x f!reader rating: 18+ minors dni word count: 4.4k (i think something possessed me bc this was originally 1k lmao) summary: you start a new form of birth control which has many side effects but frankie takes advantage of one side effect in particular. warnings: canon divergent, established relationship (reader and frankie are married), sub!frankie, soft dom!reader, body worship, pet names, nipple play, mommy kink, lactation kink, mutual masturbation , praise kink, pre-ejaculation, overstimulation, cumplay, cum eating, fluff.  No use of Y/N. No physical descriptions of reader. um i think that’s it? *scratches neck* disclaimer: this is literally for shits and giggles bc a friend and i were talking about sub!frankie having a lactation kink, but we weren’t feeling the whole pregnancy trope so i found a loophole hehe. after extensive research, i found that certain types of birth control that include progestin *can* increase lactation as well as breast enlargement and tenderness, so i tweaked this specifically for the purpose of this fic. i don’t study medicine so some of this isn’t 100% accurate so if anything is wrong just remember this is just for horny fun and i changed some things to fit what i was going for. if this piece is not for you, that’s cool, obviously not everyone is gonna be into the same stuff but please just move along and let everyone else enjoy the fun.

a/n: thank you for all the love on my first fic i was so incredibly nervous about it but yall have been so so kind. this one is for kat and lyss who gave me this idea and then we screamed about it til 1am. shout out to @skrunkly-scrimblo and @papurgaatika for beta’ing. thanks for reading i hope you like it <3

super cute divider by @saradika

You’re staring back at yourself in the foggy mirror of your bathroom, assessing your breasts, they’re full, heavy and they ache. This is the fourth day in a row of feeling the consequences of your new birth control and the pain has only gotten worse. “The shit we do….fuckin’ birth control,” you mumble under your breath. 

You had switched to a different form of birth control earlier in the week, the IUD route wasn’t working out so well for you. For starters, the pain of getting the IUD implanted was unbelievably excruciating and on top of that, you had ParaGard (the copper IUD) implanted which didn’t have hormones so you were still getting your period. Your periods were heavy and painful and you have been seeking an alternative solution to stop them completely. At your last visit with your gynecologist, you both agreed to switch you over to taking birth control pills. 

Your physician had informed you that the pill form was a progestin-only contraceptive that would decrease the bleeding during your menstrual cycle or possibly get rid of it completely if you skipped the placebo pills on the last week of your pack. There was one not-so-tiny problem, you were not told that being on the pill would make your tits swell and you sure as hell didn’t know the damn pill would make you lactate. 

Earlier today you practically sobbed to your doctor on the phone. 

“Doc, sorry to be blunt but my tits fucking hurt,” you cry, tears welling up in your eyes. At this point, the pain had become unbearable.

“That’s pretty normal hun, it’s a common side effect for some women. As I told you on Monday, the use of a hormonal birth control that contains progestin can increase the likelihood of producing breast milk even if you aren’t pregnant. It’s your hormones adjusting to the pill and it’s going to take your body three to four months to adjust,” your doctor explained.

‘Wait three to four months,” you shout, "Doc, you didn’t mention anything about that. What the hell am I supposed to do?” you ask rashly.

Your doctor hesitates, “Well, we could go back to the copper IUD but then-”

“Then, I’d get my period yeah absolutely not,” you frantically cut her off.

“We could book you to come back in and try another route but I’m booked until the end of the month,” she suggests. 

“Of course you are, you’re like the only nice physician in the office, everyone wants to see you,” you laugh bitterly.

“There is something else that may help until we can see you in the office...many women have said that it helps,” she says.

You cross an arm around your chest, wincing slightly as your arm presses tightly against your chest, before dropping your arm back down at your side, “Okay…what is it?”

“You could massage them or have your husband stimulate your nipples,” she says nonchalantly. 

“Stimulate my nipples?” you hesitate, your eyes widening at her suggestion. 

“Yes, have him use his fingers or-”

“You’re not serious?”

Your doctor chuckles at your curiosity, “Yes, nipple stimulation and other sensual activities, can trigger and release the hormone, oxytocin, commonly referred to as the love hormone. Once oxytocin is triggered, your hormone levels are boosted and then it increases arousal and stress relief. Once it's released into the bloodstream, it helps alleviate breast tenderness and breast pain as well assisting with the flow of breast milk so yes, it’ll help.” she says pointedly.

You stare ahead, wide eyed and mouth agape. What the hell are you supposed to say to that?

“Look honey, many women have come in and told me directly that it helps, believe it or not, it even helps induce labor, but that’s beside the point, many women have been in your position and they have reported that it works. So at least try this out, and see how it makes you feel, just until we can get you an appointment and have you come in and then we can try something else. Alright?” she asks. 

“Yeah alright, thanks again Doc,” you huff, your hand rubs at your temple before dragging it down your face. 

“No problem hun, keep me updated through the portal,” she says. 

“Will do,” you hung up the phone and tossed it on the couch. 

That was six hours ago and now you’re standing in your bathroom as you wait for the bathtub to fill up. You read online that heat therapy could reduce some of the pain. While your husband was at work, you sprawled yourself out across the couch with a heating pad on your chest. It managed to ease the pain for a bit until the set timer turned the heating pad off and the second you stood up, the pain worsened again. 

To be honest, you’re a little embarrassed to bring it up to Frankie. It's not like Frankie won’t want to do it, he’d be very interested but what the hell are you supposed to say to him. Hey honey, my tits hurt and they’re leaking breast milk. Can you play with them a little so they feel better? He loves to engage in a little titty appreciation but this is a whole different ball game. You really aren’t in the mood to have this conversation with Frankie tonight, unsure of how he would react and possibly causing a bigger issue. 

You can hear the TV through the bathroom door, Frankie is watching some game. But when he hears you croak out in pain when you remove your bra, hands clutching at your swollen breasts, he moves lightning fast towards the bathroom door. 

“Querida, are you alright in there?” he asks through the door, his hand wrapped around the door handle.

You bite down on your lip, sighing before you finally bite the bullet and admit what’s going on. You crack open the door just enough so he can hear you better. 

“It’s-,” You let out another exhausted sigh as you rub your temple, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Remember, a few days ago, I went to my gynecologist and we decided to switch birth control methods?” He nods, eyes full of concern. 

“The pills are making my hormones go crazy and they’re making my tits swell and well…” you pull the door open to gesture towards your breasts. “I’m like a fucking pregnant woman but without the damn pregnancy,” you grumble. 

You immediately clock the worry on his face but Frankie can’t help the fact that he is practically salivating when he looks down at your tits. You notice his jaw slacken, his lips part as he takes in the curve of your breasts, they have grown a noticeable difference in size. You hear him inhale sharply when his stare drops to your nipples, dark and swollen. 

Suddenly feeling a little shy under the intensity of his gaze, you bring a hand up to cover your breasts, he inhales once again before speaking, yet you speak before he does, “It’s fine, apparently a bath will help, and I’ve got the water running. I’ll be out in a few minutes babe,” you press, a tight smile on your face. 

You see it all over his face, he wants to help but he doesn’t know how. His big, deep brown eyes filled with worry. “Okay baby, I’ll give you some privacy. I’ll be in the bedroom if you need anything,” he says quietly, eyebrows still raised. You can sense the uneasiness in his body language but he doesn’t press the subject. 

You thank him and shut the door, hearing him step back towards the bed. You slip off your panties and toss them into the hamper, then step into the hot water, sighing as you dip beneath the water.

After a few short minutes, you slowly bring your hands up to cup your breasts, experimentally kneading them. You press your hands more firmly and you bite down on your lip as you try to muffle a quiet moan. Huh. It does help. You continue toying with them until the water is no longer warm and your fingers become pruny. 

Dragging yourself out of the water and stepping out of the tub, you pull the plug out, the water spinning through the drain. Leisurely, you dry yourself off, pull a thin white tank top over your head, and drag a clean pair of blue lace panties over your legs. 

As you open the door to let the steam out of the bathroom, you grab your fuzzy robe from the hook behind the door, wrap it around your damp body, and head into the bedroom to catch the rest of the game with your husband. 

Yet, to your surprise, you find the TV off and instead see Frankie sitting up in bed, one hand tucked behind his head and the other holding his phone as he squints at the screen. 

You chuckle as you walk over to your nightstand. “Thought you were supposed to be wearing your glasses?” You tease, your lips forming into a smile.  

“I look dorky with ‘em, ‘sides I don’t need them right now,” he mimics your tone and turns his head to watch as you pump some of your cocoa butter body lotion into your hand and work it into your skin.  

“So, I did some googling,” he starts, a sly smirk creeping up onto his face as he continues, “It said…messaging them and sucking on them would help.” His eyes are still on the bare parts of your damp skin, completely enamored by how your skin looks in the dim light of your bedroom. 

You tense, hands freezing, streaks of lotion yet to be fully rubbed into your skin, “Baby, that’s ridiculous,” you laugh him off. 

“No, I’m serious look,” Frankie sits up and moves across the bed, holding out his phone for you to read the article he was studying beforehand.

“I don’t know about this Frankie,” you shake your head, frowning while you avert your eyes from his. 

“Come here,” smirking devilishly as he brings his hands up to your arms, pulling you towards the bed. 

“Frankie–” you scoff, playfully rolling your eyes at him. 

He tilts his head up to look up at you with those big brown eyes that you often find difficult turning down. “Trust me,” his hands rubbing up and down your arms soothingly.  

“You know I do, Frankie, the hell did I marry you for,” you tease, you sneak your hands behind his neck and interlock your fingers as you lean down and press a soft kiss to his head.   

“Then c’mere, let me help,” he whispers and it sounds more like a plea. He’s pulling you down onto the bed, guiding you to sit up against the pillows. His hands find your robe, untying the knot in the soft belt across your waist. You lean forward slightly while he pulls your robe off slowly,  his eyes watching your face, searching for any indication to stop but he doesn’t find any. 

He tosses the robe behind him on the bed as he leans down over you, nudging your legs open as he settles himself between your legs. He brings his hands back up to the thin material of your tank top, cupping your tender breasts in his large hands. 

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect, fuck–, so pretty baby,” he babbles lowly, goosebumps erupt on your skin, even after years of being married to him he still knows exactly what to say to make you feel so desirable. 

He gently squeezes your breasts, his thumb sweeps over your nipple back and forth, you whine softly as your hands find his hair, burying your fingers in his curls. It hurts but it’s pleasurable, the pressure he’s using feels better than what you were doing earlier in the bath. 

Frankie pinches your covered nipples between his rough fingers, hardening under his touch, you hiss when he tweaks them tightly, Frankie pauses, his eyes meet yours for a moment, “it’s okay–feels good, keep going,” you whisper to him. 

He brings his mouth down to one of your nipples and sucks it through the material with his other hand still fondling your other nipple. “Fuck– that feels good Frankie,” you moan, he whimpers lowly and feels his cock twitch in his boxers. Your eyes roll back in your head, your mouth falls open and he hollows his cheeks, sucking harder around your nipple. 

His mouth lets go of your breast, you look down to see the wet patch that formed over your peaked-covered nipple before he hastily pulls the tank top over your head, tossing it onto the floor, Frankie lets out a shameless groan when his eyes hungrily lock on your bare chest like a missile to a target. 

He leans in closer, his mouth hovering over your breast. You feel the warmth of his breath over your breast, a tingling sensation sneaks down your body. His hot mouth closes around your pebbled nipple. 

“Shit, Frankie,” you arch further into his mouth, and he moans and his tongue flicks up against your peaked nipple, and then he bites down softly, his eyes open, looking up at you from under his eyelashes. Frankie feels a slight warm gush fill his mouth, his eyes slip closed, whimpering around the bud. 

You tug on Frankie’s hair, pulling his mouth away from you, your stomach twisting at his reaction when he feels the gush of liquid filling his mouth. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that would happen-”

“Baby, hey, it’s okay. I was just surprised-” 

“No I know, it’s just gross,” you frown, feeling the pang of embarrassment in your belly.

“It’s not–it’s not gross. I–I liked it,” Frankie says sheepishly. 

“Really?” you ask softly. 

He laughs lightly and leans forward to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth then another just below your jaw. His beard scraping along your skin as he places wet open-mouthed kisses down your neck, all the way down past your collarbones until he reaches the valley of your breasts once again.

“Relax baby, I got ya,” he whispers against your skin.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your head falls back against the headboard, and your hand comes up to the nape of his neck, petting at his long brown curls. He ducks down to bring his mouth to your nipple, he parts his lips around the bud, his tongue circling around the bud a few times, licking at your nipple, he closes his lips and sucks softly before tugging it between his teeth, he hums around it, making you grasp at the sheets beneath you, a low ache building in the pit of your stomach.

“That’s it baby boy,” you say softly, petting his hair. You open your eyes when you feel him press his cock against your leg, his cock stirring in his boxers at your praise. 

He’s loving this, loves the taste of you and loves how good he’s making you feel. 

His hand palms your other breast, squeezing and kneading the meat of your tit, beads of milk collecting at the peak. He takes your nipple in between his calloused fingers and pinches it harder between his index and middle finger, the milk pours out from the bud down his hand and onto his forearm. 

Frankie feels the warm liquid on his arm, his mouth letting go of your breast, his pupils full of lust never leaving your face as he lifts his left hand up and licks a long slow, thick stripe from his forearm up his hand. Your mouth falls open and your chest heaves at the sight. 

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby,” he groans, his eyes closing at the taste of you. His cock twitches against your leg, now painfully hard in his boxers. 

He dips his head back down and licks up the milk leaking down your torso up to your nipple. He moans once his hot mouth latches around the stiff peak and his tongue swirls around it. He laps up the warm white liquid he’s sucking out of your breast. “There you go baby, just like that,” you sigh, closing your eyes and your head falls back against the headboard. 

One of his knees perches onto your leg, he grinds his cock against the meat of your thigh, he moans deeply, his fingers digging into the flesh of your breasts. “So, needy for me huh, baby boy,” you tut, gripping firmly onto his soft curls. 

He whines quietly, and unbeknownst to Frankie, he starts rutting his hard length against your leg in slow, shallow thrusts, you feel a rumble of a moan in his throat around your nipple. At the sudden movement, your head snaps up to see your husband getting himself off against your body, his teeth sinking into your breast. 

You’ve never seen him like this before, he’s insatiable and relentless and it makes your pussy pulse and clench around nothing. 

“Ohhh that’s it– good boy Frankie,” you moan breathlessly, feeling him suck harder on your breast with a deep groan.

You grab at Frankie’s hair again, your hand combs his hair back while tugging at his hair, gently pulling his head back and he whines loudly when you pull his mouth away from your breast. You catch a glistening sheen on his lips when you direct his head to your other breast. 

Your eyes meet his dark, blown out pupils as your thumb rubs his cheek down to the corner of his mouth. You thumb the bottom of his plump, soft lip, wiping the milk off of his mouth. Your thumb slips between his lips and you whisper, “Who’s my good boy?” 

He shivers beneath your touch, “I am,” he murmurs softly, his head resting down on your chest once again. Your hand cradles his head and you move your hand down along his head to cup his face.

You watch your husband’s eyes shut as he closes his mouth around your nipple and continues suckling from your breast, “Fuck– Frankie, keep going,” you pant into his hair, your hands still toying with his curls, eliciting another whine from him. 

He shifts and begins fucking himself into the mattress once again, seeking any type of friction possible. 

Watching your husband getting himself off to your body sends a sharp, hot spark of arousal down your spine straight to your core, your pussy throbbing and your panties now wet and sticky with your slick. 

You smirk and bring your lips down to his ear, whispering the word that you know lights a fire within him.  “You’re making mommy feel so good baby,” and Frankie whimpers, his mouth swallowing your breast whole, his hips grinding down faster into the mattress. 

“That’s it, baby, atta boy, such a good boy for mommy,” you coo into his ear. Frankie lets out a high-pitched whine, his hips stuttering and groaning when he feels himself spilling out all over the inside of his boxers. Your mouth falls open, your eyes wide as you stare at him, realizing he just came simply from putting his mouth on you. 

His hips shudder, occasionally jerking erratically, his legs shaking uncontrollably as he hisses from overstimulation, you continue whispering praises into his ears. 

While his mouth works on relieving your breast you take matters into your own hands, bringing your fingers down to your neglected cunt. You press your fingers into your covered slit, feeling the wetness of your pussy through the material before pushing your panties to the side. You move your fingers to your throbbing clit, circling eagerly while his tongue swirls over your nipple. 

He bites down on the bud a little more harshly, feeling another gush of warm liquid in his mouth, “tastes so good mi corozòn,” he whimpers against your breast, closing his eyes while his teeth nip at the wet bud. 

Feeling a cooling wetness from his eyes seeping onto your breast, you briefly look down to find tears stinging his eyes from the pleasure, the teeth marks on your nipples, your skin all wet and red from his mouth. 

He continues sucking at your breast, licking up the sweet taste of you into his mouth and moaning around your nipple, savoring the taste. 

You slip your fingers into your wet heat with a moan. “So good, Frankie, ohhh– you’re doing so well for mommy,” you gasp out while grinding your hips up into your own hand.  He whimpers, his cock twitches, throbbing lightly against the mattress, he’s getting hard just from hearing that word once again. 

Your other hand roughly tugs on Frankie’s soft locks, pushing his head further into you, swallowing more of your breast into his mouth. 

Frankie was too far gone to notice, but you realize he’s grinding himself into the bed once again, still moaning and whimpering into your tender flesh. You thrust your fingers into your pussy, timing them to Frankie’s thrusts into the bed, the wet squelch from your fingers thrusting in and out obscenely echoes in your bedroom. 

“That’s perfect, Frankie— don– don’t stop…shit. I’m so close–” You curl your fingers inside yourself, petting at the spongy spot deep inside while his teeth nip and lick and suck at your tit. 

You shout Frankie’s name as your back arches off the bed, legs shaking around Frankie’s body when your orgasm finally sweeps over you. 

He pulls off your nipple with a wet pop, moving fast to sit up and back on his knees, his hands making quick work of pulling off his underwear. His cock bobs up against the soft swell of his stomach. He hisses when he wraps a large hand around the girth and he thumbs the wide blunt of his tip smearing the beads of pearly white dribbling out from the slit. 

Your tongue pokes out, licking your bottom lip before biting down on the flesh. Your hands massage your breasts, your fingers pinching your erect, sensitive nipples under Frankie’s fucked out gaze. 

Desperately, he fists his cock over your figure. “Come, baby. Be a good boy and come for mommy,” you order him while staring into his eyes, dark and dilated, his mouth hanging open as he strokes his cock. 

Your low voice and your words are all he needs to bring him over the edge. The thrusting of his hips gets more erratic as he jacks his cock tighter in his hand and increases the pace, the wet, lewd slap from his strokes gets louder, his whimpers and pants filling the otherwise quiet room. 

“There you go, atta boy, give it to me Frankie, let it out," you encourage him softly. 

Your eyes watch the muscles in his soft belly tighten and his thighs tensing up, his moans growing louder and louder and louder, his eyes roll back into his head, “Fuck– mami,” a long drawn out, agonizing groan slipping past his lips, you watch as his cock twitches in his hand, his hips stammer as long, thick, warm ropes of cum paint your stomach. 

“That’s it baby, just like that, you did so good. So good Frankie,” you murmur. He opens his eyes and looks back down at you, still catching his breath while he watches the last of his cum spill onto your swollen breasts, he groans seeing the marks he’s left on your skin. Your tits are covered in splotches of red and teeth marks from his mouth, his come and the milk from your breasts leaking down your chest and onto your stomach. 

His hair is a mess, his pupils are blown out, he looks completely in a haze, utterly fucked out. You smirk up at him and click your tongue, “You made such a mess on mommy, Frankie.” 

His cheeks warm, the redness creeping down his neck and chest, he’s embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” he mumbles, his hand scratching the back of his neck.  

You move your fingers down your stomach, gathering his cum onto your fingers, “Don’t get shy on me now, come here my love,” your other hand reaches for him.

He crawls up towards your side, you slip a coated finger into your mouth and you close your eyes and hum. Frankie curses quietly to himself, seeing your pearly-covered finger slipping into your mouth and back out devoid of sheen. 

You bring a finger up to his mouth, your fingertip pressing against his lips, “open,” you order. You take advantage of his jaw slackening, sticking your glossy finger into his mouth and his lips close around your digit. You feel his tongue flatten underneath your finger then swirls it around your finger as he sucks it clean, he closes his eyes, his brows furrow, and he moans at the salty taste. 

“See, I keep telling you, you taste good, sweetheart,” you smile down at him, tucking a single brown lock behind his ear. 

“You did so good for me baby, made me feel so good,” you tell him while holding his patchy-bearded face. He chuckles timidly before pressing his lips to yours, licking behind your teeth, tasting himself in your mouth and mumbles a faint I love you against your lips.  

Frankie pecks your lips again before sitting up and walking over to the bathroom. You hear him flick the light on and the tap turning on and off while your eyes drift shut. You feel the warm wet rag dragging across your tummy and your tits, and then down between your folds as he cleans you up with tenderness. 

You open your eyes again when you hear him pad off towards the bathroom once more, watching him toss the washcloth back in the bathroom before he tucks himself into your side and nuzzles his face into the valley of your breasts, the coarse hairs of his beard tickling your skin.  

Frankie’s low voice breaks the comfortable silence, “Next time it hurts, you tell me cariño, ‘m more than happy to do that again,” he says shyly, feeling the smile on his face against your chest.

You fail to suppress your giggle, “Yeah, you enjoyed yourself didn’t you, sweet boy?” Your fingers run through his long soft brown curls, your fingertips grazing down his neck, a hint of sweat at the end of his hair along the back of his neck. 

“Mhm,” he hums, and you grin into his hair, pressing your lips to his messy curls, your eyelids heavy with sleep. He feels your fingers still, Frankie tilts his head to look up at you, “Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re not done mi vida, I still need to make you come again.”

[oc-challenges]

WELCOME TO OC HALLOWEEN CHALLENGE 2O24!

SMILE because it's time for the annual oc halloween challenge! We will see the evil, hear the evil, and speak the evil with these spooky challenges brought to you by @aliverse, @astarionbae, @endless-oc-creations, and @come-along-pond!

If this is your first time, here's the lowdown; This is an event that takes place over the 31 days of October and presents oc creators with Halloween-themed challenges to encourage creativity, foster community, and have fun! Some of these have guidelines/suggestions, but this is very much a free-for-all so you can ignore them if they don't fit with your interpretations.

RULES

DO NOT copy others edits.

If you are doing crossovers, PLEASE make sure that the creator of the other oc is okay with crossovers.

If you want your post to be reblogged onto this blog, it must contain the hashtag ohc2024.

Feel free to ask questions, I promise I’m more treat than trick.

Everything is up to the creators interpretation, although I have tried to include some examples for help!

Have fun!

Day One: Godly Parent

Whether Greek, Roman, Norse, Egyptian, or any other; What "God" could have created your oc?

Day Two: Mystical Communication

There are tons of ways we think we can communicate with those beyond our realm such as Tarot Cards, Oujia Boards, Prayer, EMFs, or even through other people with otherworldly powers. Which method would your oc use? Or maybe they are the communication tool?

Day Three: Merch/Memorabilia

When we really love something, we want a piece of it with us. What merch would people buy of your ocs? Ex. Dolls (like funkos or Barbie crossovers), Clothes (like shirts or sweatshirts), Buttons/Patches, Dishware (like cups or plates), trading cards, posters, or even spin-off books of the show they star in.

Day Four: If They Were Canon AU

You could create an actor oc who plays your character or even make edits about how you think your ocs faceclaim would promote/interpret their character and get along with fellow cast members.

Day Five: Social Media AU

Within their canon, what would your ocs Instagram, Twitter, TikTok, Facebook, Tumblr, Snapchat, and/or YouTube look like?

Day Six: Role Swap AU

Give your oc a role in their story that is different than the one they already have. Whether this is making a hero a villain or vice versa, your victim a survivor or vice versa, or anything else you can think of.

Day Seven: Butterfly Effect

One choice could change the trajectory of our lives or any game we play. Show us the effects of your oc making the wrong choice when they originally made the right choice, befriending someone they originally hated, or even just missing their alarm.

Day Eight: Multiverse

Maybe you have multiple ocs with the same faceclaim, maybe you have a friend(s) who have ocs with the same faceclaim that you've wanted to do a crossover with, or maybe you want your oc to meet some of the actual characters their faceclaim has played. No matter what it is, it's time for your ocs to meet their multiverse counterparts!

Day Nine: Literature AU

Put your oc into an alternate universe based off a book you enjoy whether it be a classic or a newer one, no matter the genre.

Day Ten: Dungeons & Dragons AU

Have your ocs play DND, make an au based off a classic DND campaign, or just tell us the stats of your oc in DND terms.

Day Eleven: Ghost AU

Sometimes when we die, we don't leave. Tell us the unfinished business that keeps your ocs ghost on Earth, who your oc would haunt, how they would haunt, or anything else related to your oc being a ghost!

Day Twelve: Supernatural AU

Make your human oc a supernatural creature or your supernatural oc a different supernatural character.

Day Thirteen: Video Game AU

Show us some of what your story would look like as a video game or put your ocs into your favorite game.

Day Fourteen: Musical AU

The doctor said I couldn't talk, he didn't say I couldn't siiinnnggg! Put your oc into your favorite musical such as Hamilton or Mean Girls, or come up with some original lyrics to show what you think your story would look like if it were written as a musical.

Day Fifteen: Nostalgia

Take the books, shows, or movies you enjoyed as a child and put your oc into them! Or, show us what your oc enjoyed as a child.

Day Sixteen: Fairytale AU

One of the most classics of classics. Make your oc a character in your favorite fairytale, whether you prefer the Grimm or Disney version, or make up a fairytale about your oc!

Day Seventeen: Being is Believing

For day seventeen, think about superstitions, urban legends, or folklore and either make your oc a part of them, make your oc experience them, or tell us which ones your oc believes.

Day Eighteen: Beloved Pet or Object Turned Human

It's not unusual for someone to grow an emotional attatchment to an animal or an inanimate object. What would your ocs beloved pet or object say if they turned human and could speak your ocs langauge?

Day Nineteen: Genre Switch

Whatever the genre of your story is, swap it with another one. Maybe your romance story is now a horror story, your comedy is now a tragedy, or your historical realism story is now future sci-fi.

Day Twenty: Darkest After Dawn

Things can go so right for so long and then suddenly so wrong. Show us what happens when something rains on your ocs parade, when a perfect day turns into a horrible night, or a dream vacation turns into a nightmare trap.

Day Twenty-One: Apocalypse AU

Put your oc into an alternate universe that's been thrust into an apocalypse whether that be because of zombies, aliens, radiation, or the Earth trying to reclaim its land.

Day Twenty-Two: Time Problems

Let's play with time for this challenge. Picture your story as if it has always taken place in a different time, throw your oc into a time loop, or have them somehow travel through time.

Day Twenty-Three: Horrorify A Song

Take your favorite Halloween song and tell it's story, or even take a perfectly innocent song and give it a horrifying meaning! Both using your ocs, obviously.

Day Twenty-Four: What's Your Favorite Scary Movie?

It wouldn't be Halloween without some good scary movies. Put your ocs into one of your favorite scary movies!

Day Twenty-Five: Horror Location

This is an easier throwback to one of the week long challenges we've done for this event. Make something that tells a horror story of your oc at a certain location such as a Hospital/Asylum, Summer Camp, Place of Worship, Cemetery/Tomb, House/Apartment, Hotel/Cabin, or Farm/Ranch.

Day Twenty-Six: Horror Subgenres

Another throwback to a week long challenge we've done for this event. Make something that tells a horror story of your oc within a horror subgenre such as extraterrestrial, apocalypse, monster, time loop, isolation, time loop, cult, doppleganger, or anything else you can think of.

Day Twenty-Seven: Horror Archetypes

Which horror character tropes do your ocs embody? The Final Girl or The Killer? The Accomplice or The Harmless Antagonist? The Harbinger or The Nonbeliever? The Comedic Relief or The Hysteric Annoyance?

Day Twenty-Eight: Solo Costume

Show us what your oc would dress up as for Halloween! Would they dress sexy? Scary? Lazy? Practical?

Day Twenty-Nine: Couples Costume

Show us what matching costume your oc and their love interest would wear! Peanut Butter & Jelly? Morticia & Gomez? Bert & Ernie?

Day Thirty: Group Costume

Show us what costumes your oc and their friend group would coordinate. Are they the Scooby Gang? The Wiggles? Mario Party Characters?

Day Thirty-One: Here's A Treat!

The Halloween potluck isn't happening this year but we still want to encourage interaction and giving. So, choose someone to give a treat! This could be an ask, an edit, some writing, or even a playlist.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 425: New Normal

Previously on BnHA: Everyone was all “and with that we conclude our final battle for better or worse!! We will now commence our slow return to the new normal, beginning with our protagonist and deuteragonist who are miraculously more or less intact, albeit exhausted and mildly traumatized. Also the words ‘more or less’ are kind of doing a lot of heavy lifting there.”

Today on BnHA: The Big 3 and Aoyama are OUT. Shinsou is IN. The Tododrama is PENDING, and the mysterious figure in the shadows is UNIDENTIFIED. Also class 1-A finally becomes class 2-A and it only took them 425 chapters and TEN LONG YEARS. Can you imagine if this series had actually run throughout their high school experience like people once expected. “THE YEAR IS 2044 AND MY HERO ACADEMIA IS FINALLY WINDING TO A CLOSE.” There’s an alternate universe somewhere where this actually happened and we were all so very, very tired.

This is once again a shorter than usual reaction summary post, as opposed to my typical page-by-page liveblog. Not gonna have time to do those for a while yet most likely, but like hell am I gonna miss out on the last days of the series, so here we are.

Once again basing this off of @pikahlua’s spoiler translation summary here!

watching the eighteen inch tall Rat Principal standing at a podium overseeing this graduation ceremony is surreal in the most wonderful way. it’s like receiving your diploma from a sentient Funko Pop

I love how they established that Mic sitting there screaming at the top of his lungs is also a beloved U.A. graduation tradition, and that the senpais just roll with it while everyone else is in varying stages of trying to decide if it’s too late to transfer to another school

ngl sometimes I forget that Ochako and Toga were actually the second canonical f/f ship in this series. shoutout to Hadou and her adorable girlfriend whose name I absolutely cannot recall

absolutely wild that Horikoshi gives credit to Rat Principal for coordinating the entire disaster recovery nationwide. are you serious. the “world-famous” Principal Nezu?? you’re telling me this little capybara is effectively the secret president of Japan now or something. when does he even sleep

“the principal made great contributions to quirk morality education” is also a VERY interesting tidbit that I really want to know more about. “hey guys what if we did a better job at teaching people not to be dicks with their quirks” AND JUST LIKE THAT JAPAN WAS SAVED huzzah

“we lost many things, but we gained nothing” is both HILARIOUS and soundly depressing, but I can see what he’s trying to get at. still an odd choice for a graduation speech though. “our job is all about harm reduction, and we couldn’t even do that this time around, but in the future we hope to balance things out and maybe even get some net positive impact going!” lmao. again it’s all true, and in all honesty it’s spectacular that they managed as well as they did, all things considered. and I guess it would have been disingenuous to just ignore the reality of everything this particular school body has been through and pretend like everything is great right now. but I still can’t help feeling like there was probably a more inspiring way to get this message across lol

regardless of what he says, Aizawa 100% either bribed or threatened Rat Principal behind the scenes in order to stay with his class. and will do so again next year. he can and will keep getting away with it. he is never leaving these kids

and the sheer relief from all of them upon hearing it is all the justification he needs. these kids have four thousand nine hundred and seventeen accumulated traumas among them. they don’t need a four thousand nine hundred and eighteenth. this man is their father ffs. MINA WAS CRYING AND EVERYTHING

Kacchan watched that YouTube video about a dozen times until he managed to tie his tie all on his own with the one hand. and he did an amazing job. he’s such a model citizen now

also it looks to me like he has his right arm hidden in a sling underneath his shirt, which is interesting. if I’m not mistaken (and I very well could be, since it’s been a hot minute since I did any BnHA timeline math), the final battle took place sometime in early May, so this chapter is taking place roughly one month later. the hospital chapter took place about a week after the battle, so it’s been about 3-4 weeks since then. I really want to know what kind of shape Kacchan’s arm is in, but I guess Horikoshi will get to it when he gets to it

also, “we all gotta be together today” was a real wakeup call to me in that it gave me just an absolutely ridiculous amount of feels. just a totally unreasonable amount. and it’s like. listen, self. Kacchan has completed his character growth arc. he’s a team player and a leader who loves all his friends and they all love him in return. we’ve known this for years now. it’s an established fact. you can’t keep bursting into tears or whatever every time he shows it. this is no way to live your life. I need an intervention

anyways later this evening class 2-A is gonna have a celebratory movie night in the common room, and Kacchan is gonna fall asleep two minutes in peacefully surrounded by all his classmates, and they’re all gonna nudge each other and smile fondly and cover him with a blanket and stay up until 2am and Aizawa will have no mercy on them the following morning. it’s gonna be so wholesome you guys

(ETA: I decided to go back and have some more feels about this one tiny Kacchan panel, because apparently the four paragraphs I already wrote about it weren't enough. so the thing is, Sero's wonderment at Katsuki being out of the hospital initially read to me as half bemused awe, and half "oh boy, time to get back into our usual rhythm of antagonizing Kacchan!" but my second time around, I can't help remembering that all of Kacchan's classmates got to watch this kid getting tortured and strangled and stabbed through the heart in 4K. like, even if they were busy with their own fights at the time, there's no way they didn't see the footage later on afterwards.

and that had to have been traumatic for them. their friend literally died and was just lying there so still for so long afterwards. and him getting better and going back to his usual asskicking self later on doesn't just erase those memories, you know? especially with him having lasting, permanent damage afterward. not just his arm, even! like who even knows if his heart is going to be okay long term. when people get organ transplants they have to go on immunosuppressants afterwards because otherwise their body will try to attack the replacement organ. so I wonder how exactly it works when it's still your heart, but it's being held together by various bits and pieces of a spindly little floss man. idk, but I bet you it's still pretty rough.

anyway so long story short, I'm now reading this as one-third bemused awe, one-third joking antagonism, and one-third genuine "no seriously, is it okay for you to be here, please don't do anything to put your health at risk because we seriously cannot handle you dying on us again." and Kacchan's not even disagreeing with him lol, which has to be the most concerning thing of all. "they said it's okay if I rest." even he knows he's pushing it, but it was too important of an occasion to miss. anyway please take it easy kiddo.)

Aoyama leaving makes me sad but it makes total sense for his character after what he’s been through. he needs time to sort things out and continue down his own personal honor-regaining journey. respect

also glad to hear that it was his own choice and that both Rat Principal and Nao would have supported him if he stayed. I still to this day do not understand Naomasa’s actual level of authority lol. like, he’s supposedly a detective, and yet he seems to be personally in charge of every single important police operation, on like a national level. and he has the authority to make decisions like letting Aoyama go free. he is the law, literally

Aoyama trying to feed Deku some farewell cheese also took me out. like he just walked in there and was all “sorry everyone, I’m leaving, but I’ll still aim for the path of a hero and will one day return, don’t you worry!” and at some point in the midst of this tearful speech he made a beeline directly to Izuku and tried to give him some cheese that he apparently just had in his pocket or something. and Izuku was all “YEAH!” all solemnly but HE DIDN’T EVEN TOUCH THAT POCKET CHEESE. like he loves you and accepts you for who you are Yuuga but COME ON

at this point in the chapter it also became clear to me that Aizawa has his hair up in some sort of loosely assembled messy bun and that’s why it looks so especially flowing and gorgeous today. this is great cinema

and then AT LONG LAST, the admission of Shinsou into class 2-A. they tried everything they could to keep him out, BUT NOT EVEN THE END OF THE WORLD COULD STOP HIM. his rightful place

Ojiro’s scandalized response to hearing Fuwa refer to Aizawa as “Era-sen”, and then Fuwa subsequently revealing all of Aizawa’s secrets and Aizawa getting flustered and kicking her out, was one of the most delightful sequences I’ve read. “nooooo don’t tell them that, what the hell am I gonna threaten them with now”

Izuku has not even attempted to crack a smile since the final battle, aside from when he was frantically trying to reassure Kacchan in the hospital. I’m worried about him but also loving this a little bit, ngl. I am content to wait for you to eventually have a proper breakdown, mister Greatest Hero

also I singled him out on the whole not-smiling thing, but really this is true for just about all of them. my heart aches :(

were there really so many people freaking out over Izuku’s hair that Horikoshi felt compelled to throw in that “HEY DEKU-KUN, YOU SHAVED YOUR HAIR LIKE THAT DUE TO AN INJURY, RIGHT? BUT IT’LL GROW BACK, RIGHT!?” line in there lol. the hilarious thing is that this chapter was already in the books before 424 was released, so it means that Horikoshi anticipated the backlash ahead of time. the man knows his audience

and now for this mysterious little barefoot man randomly emerging from some rubble somewhere. who are you. fandom already thinks you’re everyone from Tenko to Hisashi lol. my personal theory is that he’s just a random citizen who’s hurt and traumatized and needs help. and unlike what happened with baby Tenko once upon a time, this young man actually will be helped by a hero in his moment of need, and it’ll be all hopeful and stuff because SOCIETY IS CHANGING FOR THE BETTER NOW HOORAY

or maybe he really is Tenko, idk. what do I know lol. don’t listen to me

lastly, Shouto out here immediately leaving U.A. after class and ruining my dreams of a class 2-A movie night. FINE THEN. GO AND BE WITH YOUR FAMILY my precious little life preserver. and I’m actually really, really excited to see what their endgame is actually, so yes, Horikoshi, bring it on please and thank you