#like its so interesting trying to figure out how she made that much money in a industry that does not prioritize paying artists

[bumblebaubles]

the taylor swift vs billionares should not exist debate is actually quite compelling

while i get most people have a surface level understanding of 

- billionares usually only make that musch profit off of not paying the people who work with them enough

-general wealth inequality sucking away resources from people who need them

its remiss to not acknowledge billionares who run conglomerates that have a monopoly over a resource people need are not the same as billionares who have extreme buying power over a luxury that is not a necessity to life. 

considering so much of the fodder around this recent news is her making this much money off of music as her main revenue i started mulling it over in my head and started to remember just how shit the music industry treats artists in general. if she were to accomplish this i hate to say it, it would be a real feat. artists are usually the LAST people to make money off of their music. the music industry is so inherently exploitive towards artists its genuinely compelling seeing as to how she made so much off of music. so naturally i have questions. 

even though taylor has been well off for a while the as far as ive read the money she makes off of albums and streams is still split between publishing, manufacturing, production yadda yadda. Not to mention she was able to do something few artists are able to do, which is being able to profit of of her intellectual property with trademarks etc. while shes faced backlash for being too money hungry for demanding streaming services like apple music take less money off of artists streams and “excessive” trademarking of her ideas thats also a huge chunk of her money and i dont think ive seen a compelling (what she did with apple music and trademarking really can be seen as fair considering an artist should own their work and make a liveable earning fro.m it) argument for these streams of revenue being exploitative. if the music industry were fair, more artists would be able to live off of their music. taylors in a very rare but good position in this aspect. ((not to mention she doesnt even own her masters. her remaking her old albums is an expensive,,, expensive endeavor but the sales came through))

we dont know exactly how much the people she works with get paid either? im not sure if theres info on how much the people she writes with or how much her producers make off the songs they release with her. Industry standard would be considered exploitive because like i stated before m o s t money off of streams and album sales dont go to the creators it goes to the publishers and whoever has the licensing. then the singer, writers and producers are the last to get paid off of the music they create. so is the distribution of those profits equal? cant say.

ive seen but havent confirmed that her merchandise is made in china which would be a red flag if i can confirm it. Artists usually make most of their profit off of merchandising and touring. BUT i’ll stop myself here because we dont know how the profits for the tour will be split yet.  

if anyone has any extra info to fill in the gaps pls let me know im scratching my head rn

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! ( + non-chrono link for app users )

“Um, yeah,” Billy says, still internally cringing at himself. “Just–not just the bare minimum, I mean? Like–other things too. Books and games and snacks and . . . whatever you think’s fun, or whatever you want to learn about, or whatever.” 

He’s definitely been in “homes” that didn’t give him things like that. He doesn’t want Lynn to feel like . . . a burden, or a problem, or just unimportant and unwanted like that, so . . . yeah, he’s definitely gonna get him things that aren’t just the bare minimum. As many of those things as he can, he thinks. 

Batman gave them so much money, and that’s not even counting the stipend. Billy can definitely afford to give Lynn the kind of stuff none of his foster families wanted to give him. So, like–he’s gonna, obviously. 

Of course he’s gonna. 

Lynn ducks his head a little, then swallows uncomfortably. Billy resists the urge to nudge Tawky towards him again. He wonders if he could just, like . . . offer Lynn a hug, maybe? Maybe that’d be okay? 

Or maybe it’d be weird and pushy, or maybe stupid, or maybe just make Lynn feel uncomfortable. They’ve never met before today and they’ve barely spent any time together at all, and Billy doesn’t want to be the type of foster parent who demands a relationship that just isn’t there, even if he’s . . . well, not really just a foster parent, he hopes. But those fosters just always made him feel like they were more interested in getting attention and looking good to strangers than anything about him. 

He wants Lynn to feel like he’s interested in him–wants Lynn to know he’s interested in him, and cares about him, and isn’t gonna ignore him or hate him if he doesn’t follow some stupid script he’s got in his head of how he “should” be. 

He definitely wants that. 

“It’s okay if you don’t know what you think’s fun yet,” he tries, hoping he’s not assuming too much. “It’s probably kinda overwhelming, with, um . . . literally everything happening all at once and your whole life getting turned on its head, um . . . basically five minutes after it really started, so . . .” 

“I was alive before I woke up,” Lynn says, a little stilted. “I–saw things. Learned things.” 

“Things about yourself, or about how Cadmus wanted you to be?” Billy asks. 

Lynn–pauses. Frowns. 

“. . . um,” he says. “I . . . don’t know.” 

Billy is pretty sure Cadmus just sucks, actually. Like. A lot. 

“Okay,” he says. “Well, that’s okay too. You can take your time figuring it out. There’s no rush or anything.” 

“Superman won’t like me if I don’t figure it out,” Lynn says, his frown deepening. “If I’m not–useful.” 

. . . okay, Billy thinks. Cadmus really sucks, actually. 

“Superman doesn’t care about people being useful,” he says firmly. “That’s like, the last thing Superman cares about. He just likes people for who they are.” 

“. . . who I am is . . . fake, though,” Lynn says, his eyes slanting away. “It’s–programmed.” 

“So?” Billy asks, reminding himself superheroes don’t burn down weird basement labs outside of extenuating circumstances. And anyway, the sidekicks already messed Cadmus up pretty bad as it was. “Lots of people get programmed. Red Tornado’s programmed, and he’s really nice. And Wonder Woman got made out of clay as a little kid, so she got, like, magic programming. Like, to be her ‘age’, you know?” 

Lynn . . . blinks, slowly, and then glances back at him. 

“You really think that?” he asks. Billy’s a little confused by the question. He doesn’t think it; he knows it. 

“I mean, yeah?” he says. “I just mean–it doesn’t make you fake. That’s all. Especially ‘cuz you can, you know . . . learn stuff yourself, if you wanna. You don’t have to just stay the way you got taught to be.” 

Lynn stares at him for a long, silent moment, then looks down at the table again. 

“How long have you had–uh, Uncle Tawky?” he asks, abrupt and obviously trying to change the subject. That’s fine, Billy thinks; he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. And Lynn’s gotta learn how to do that kind of thing anyway, so it’s good practice for more complicated conversations, he figures. 

“Since I was ten,” he says. “He came from India! I met him in Fawcett, though, and he’s been my best friend ever since! He’s really great. And a respectable gentleman, so you don’t need to be scared of him or anything. I mean, I don’t know if you’re scared of tigers or not? Because probably you’re tiger-proof? Like–normally, I mean. But yeah.” 

“. . . I’m not scared of tigers,” Lynn says, looking a little bewildered, for some reason. Billy beams at him. 

“Great!” he says happily. Tawky could probably hurt Lynn, since he’s magic too, but he obviously wouldn’t, so he’s just . . . not gonna draw attention to that right now, obviously. That wouldn’t make Lynn feel very safe, he’s pretty sure. 

But Tawky could also probably stop Lynn if he got mind-controlled, so . . . maybe it would make him feel safer? Billy’s not sure, actually. 

. . . hm. Yeah, he needs to figure that out. 

“. . . you’ve really had him since you were ten?” Lynn asks, looking–hesitant, now. Billy doesn’t know why, but nods. 

“Yup!” he says. “He’s the best.” 

“. . . are you sure you want me to have him?” Lynn asks, still looking hesitant. 

“Yeah!” Billy confirms cheerfully. “Tawky’s the best! He’ll protect you. And keep you from having bad dreams, too.” Tawky’s really good at eating nightmares, so yeah, Lynn won’t have to worry about bad dreams at all. 

“Uh,” Lynn says, then very gingerly reaches over and picks up Tawky, and then sets him in his lap with a weird look on his face. He looks a little–emotional, maybe? At least for him, anyway. He’s not very expressive, so far. “Um. Okay.” 

Billy just beams at him again. He’s really glad they like each other. 

“. . . thanks,” Lynn says as he looks down at Tawky, voice a little abrupt again. “Um–Dad."

[lewkwoodnco]

I got options, babe - Lockwood x Reader

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her from behind Lockwood: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

a/n: the people have spoken so here is part 2 to buy me presents! am so sad i fell a little sick during the hols, threw a terrible wrench in my 12 days of fics plans for last year but i'm alr planning ahead for this year :))) yes its xmas themed but the vibes are close enough to valentines so shush. if i was in the l&co universe i would pay good money to see someone tell george to live laugh love, and i would tip extra if it was lockwood hehe. also I tagged a few extra ppl who seemed interested in a sequel!

warnings/tropes: lockwood x glassmith!reader, mostly fluffy, only a smidge of angst towards the end, clueless lockwood my beloved <3

word count: 2.6k!

buy me presents (pt 1)

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

When Lockwood had shaken George awake plenty of hours before, it had taken a while for George's brain to catch up to what was happening. By the time it did, he was worriedly watching Lockwood animatedly talking to one of the shop assistants from a nearby telephone booth.

"No idea what it is, or why..." he was telling Lucy. Lockwood was looking around for him. George nervously shifted behind one of the bars of the booth. 

"Maybe he's just blowing off some steam?"

Lockwood was now wearing an aggressively tinseled Santa hat while wielding an identical one. George had a pretty good idea who that was for.

"Er, maybe. But perhaps you should come home too. Just in case."

Lockwood had finally spotted George and was frantically waving him over. George did not like the way the Christmas lights were reflecting in Lockwood's eyes.

"For the love of God, Luce, please come home. You can't leave with me...this."

With a bone-deep sigh, George regretfully hung up and emerged from the telephone booth, smiling weakly at Lockwood.

He was more than grateful for his presence of mind earlier, once they had reached Portland Row. Lucy walked in just minutes after Lockwood's unpleasant realisation about Nicholas and guffawed at the sight of the tiny tsunami of gifts.

"Brilliant," George said. "Your turn." He handed Lucy one of the last presents he had been holding and disappeared into the kitchen. She turned towards Lockwood incredulously, who was indignantly standing in front of the sea of presents with his hands on his hips. She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, okay, I see how it is. I buy a few gi-"

"In what WORLD is this few-"

"- few gifts, and suddenly I'm the bad guy. It's Christmas, but I'm feeling a lot of negativity pent up here."

"Now you're just deflecting." Lucy rolled her eyes as Lockwood started fishing out some receipts from his pockets.

"Can't a guy spend...uh...three-oh. Oh. That's a lot of zeroes."

"Lockwood. How much did you spend?"

"...suddenly, I don't think I know any numbers past ten."

"Lockwood!"

"I couldn't figure out the installment plans! That's Y/N's job!"

George returned to the front door corridor and started picking up some boxes at random and shaking them experimentally.

"Yeah, a fine job you've left her to sort out your debts! No more shopping till Easter. And George, if you don't steal his wallet, I will."

He held up the present he was holding to Lockwood. "Listen, I don't think Y/N's going to want all of these, so how about I -"

"Absolutely not."

George made a rather rude gesture and disappeared back into the kitchen. Lockwood bent over to start clearing a path through the presents to the stairs.

"How was I supposed to know she was only kidding?"

"You know what her sense of humour's like. George and I would have picked up on it in a second."

A very unhappy Lockwood straightened out from under the avalanche of presents. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A little before lunch, Lockwood knocked on the attic door. It was ajar, and she was reading in a contorted position, all twisted up with a blanket on her rug in the one patch of sunlight in the room, leaning against her bed. She nearly tipped over when Lockwood poked his head in, but caught herself in time.

"Hey."

"Hey."

They stared at each other for a moment. It was the first time they had been alone since the morning's happenings, and it didn't feel as easy to laugh about it all when it was just them. Because the truth was, she didn't find it all that funny. Confusing, yes. Stressful, perhaps. But it wasn't that funny when all the emotions felt excruciatingly true. She closed her book, and Lockwood took another step in, leaning against the bannister.

"I'm sorry about the whole Nicholas thing. I was having a laugh, that's all. I never wanted to make you seem...foolish."

"I don't even remember Nicholas. I mean, that guy."

"Lockwood."

"Who's Loc- I mean, Nicholas? I'm Lockwood."

"Yes, I know."

"And I don't feel foolish. Do you think I'm foolish?"

She smiled at him with rheumy eyes, and his face twisted strangely like he was suppressing his own smile. His eyes drifted to the book in her lap, and the blanket swaddling her face.

"Er, reading?"

"Trying to. The sun's making me feel so sleepy."

"Then move out of the sun. Or take a nap."

She glared at him, scoffing incomprehensibly. "T-take a nap? What am I, 5? And we barely get any sun as it is, I'm trying to thaw my insides."

"Can you even breathe in that?"

She took a wheezing breath. "...yes."

Still, Lockwood sat down next to her, and after a bit of scuffling, she was tipped slightly to her side, leaning against him slightly. She was starting to regret using such a thick blanket through which she barely felt his shoulder. He picked up the book and opened it to the pages her finger was stuck between, and started reading. She closed her eyes and listened. It was some dream to be sitting next to him, without the usual inches between, to hear his honeyed voice ebb and flow, to watch his fingers smooth the pages and fiddle with the edges.

It was mildly disconcerting to hear the shape of his voice take on such a poetic form as if they were in some parallel universe. As if they were in some parallel universe where falling in love was easier than falling asleep.

A few hours later, she woke up on her bed with a jolt, writhing uncomfortably in her blanket. Once she had managed to peel herself out of it, the embarrassment of having fallen asleep on him sunk in. She needed something to take her mind off it and eventually decided to tinker in her workshop. Down in the basement, she had a small makeshift workshop set up for the occasional tinkering or fiddling with some spare parts. It helped her mind relax when her hands had something to do.

She spent a very peaceful hour regluing some tiny diamonds that had fallen off an old watch. That was, until a door banged open from somewhere else in the house, followed by frantic voices. She looked up in alarm as the footsteps drew closer, blinking owlishly behind her magnifying eyeglasses. Her door swung open and Lockwood walked in, closely followed by a barely suppressed silent, but very agitated, George.

“Y/N, look what I found in George’s suitcase.”

Between the panicked sirens blaring in her head and George’s epileptic hand gestures, it was a miracle she was able to process all those words in the right order.

“…oh?”

A frozen smile sat on her face as her eyes nervously darted between the boys’ faces.

“It’s a snow globe.”

In a miraculous moment of clarity, she realised what George was violently trying to communicate to her: play dumb.

”What’s a snow globe?”

George was positively beside himself.

Lockwood, on the other hand, looked alarmed and touchingly concerned.

“You...you don’t know what a snow globe is? Do they not have snow globes where you’re from?”

“Did you just ask me if they have snow globes…in Hackney?”

He looked slightly miffed, but she couldn’t stay annoyed for long with his foolishly good-natured intentions.

“Look, Lockwood, I’m a little busy here. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I just…wanted to see if you knew anything about this.” He turns it over in his hand, and even with the shelter of anonymity, she finds herself desperately seeking the approval in his eyes that she had been hoping for. “It’s...it's beautiful. When I first saw it, I thought…” He looks up from the snow globe at her, where she’s holding her breath, and she’s distantly aware of how suspiciously invested she must seem in his answer.

“I thought it had to be you.”

She has his answer, but she still hasn’t let go of that breath, as if keeping at bay all the emotions and hope that will come rushing in with her exhale. He watches her face, and she’s too scared to even twitch. Too scared to come right out and say everything the snow globe meant.

“You thought wrong."

George’s seizure-like convulsions returned with a new vigour. Lockwood continues standing there for another minute, and it makes her think he hasn’t heard her until he regretfully bows his head.

“I suppose. Well, I hope your work won’t keep you long. We'll be having tea soon. Let’s- good God, George, are you having a fit?!”

After their Christmas Eve tea, they exchanged presents, and to call it an awkward affair would have been an understatement. She passed Lockwood the pair of snowman socks. George grudgingly passed him the snow globe. The absurdity of the gifts and their donors made the four of them pause for a moment. 

Finally, Lucy broke the quiet by handing out her gifts: mugs with pictures of Inspector Barnes accompanied with cheesy quotes. George's was 'live, laugh, love.' Lockwood's was 'keep calm and carry on.' But everyone was still looking far too solemn, so she nearly had an aneurysm holding back her laughter.

After they all retired to their rooms, she retreated into her chilly workshop. But instead of continuing with her work, she just sat at her desk, brooding a little. A few minutes later, there was a knock on her door as a rather breathless and pink-faced Lockwood poked his head in.

"Still working?"

She shook her head. "What are you doing?"

"Returning the presents." He turned to step out but hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want to keep any?"

"I'm sure that I would hate it if we went bankrupt. Do you need any help?"

"Oh, no, I'll be - yes. Yes, actually. These are a lot of presents. If you could spare the time...I'd really appreciate it."

So after she bundled up in her woollens and wrestled a scarf onto Lockwood, they somehow hurriedly carted the many slightly scuffed shopping bags into the cab, where they only had a brief break to catch their breath, given how close they lived to the shops. 

After that, it was a race to hit all the stores before they closed for Christmas Eve. After a couple of rounds, they had developed the fairly efficient system of Lockwood lugging the gifts around while she spoke with the shop assistants. The one drawback to their fine plan, at least for him, was her glancing at the receipts and the too-long numbers at the bottom of them ("Jesus Christ, Lockwood, how did you not have to take out a loan for these? Honestly! Do you think we're made of money?").

Finally, their luck ran out at their very last store, which looked as though it had been closed for hours. She knocked and peered inside feverishly, clutching the very last gift stubbornly.

"No, no, we were so close! Now what do we do?"

"We can come back after the holidays. Or," he gently pried the box out of her fingers, smoothly lifting the top, "you could keep it."

It was a silver charm bracelet, with rapier and lavender charms dangling from the central chain, much like the ones they laid out on jobs. It was beautiful. But she couldn't take it.

"You already gave me a present."

"Have another. A little special something for a special someone."

His cavalier attitude, his foolish smile - in that moment, it was all too much. Her terrible temper flared and she shoved the present into him, forcefully enough to make him stumble a little. She turned and started walking home briskly, fuming silently until he and his long legs finally caught up to her.

"Wha - was it something I said? Y/N? Y/N."

"I don't know, Lockwood." She was sick of his carelessness, sick enough to be a little careless herself, let her tongue run loose. "What have you said? Or haven't said?"

"Y/N, you know I'm terrible at riddles."

"Well, maybe Belinda can help you."

That stuns him enough to make him stop in his tracks. She slows down and, after steeling her fraught nerves, turns around.

"...what does Belinda have to do with anything?"

His hopelessly clueless expression, which typically soothed her anger in their worst fights, only served to infuriate her further here. She walked towards him angrily.

“I didn't want to give you the goddamn snow globe because Belinda exists. All right? Because there are a thousand different girls out there who you’ll like better than me.” There’s a sudden tightness in her chest. With some difficulty, she turns away from him, lightly pressing her sternum. “I can’t compete with them, Lockwood. I won’t let you make me.”

She hears the crunch of the snow under his shoe as he takes a step towards her.

"Belinda is...amazing. She might even be perfect. But even she's just a friend, because...because you exist. And-and I could find...the most perfect girls out there, but the image of you would still be breathing in some corner of my mind. It wouldn't be the same with anyone else. It never is."

She sniffed gently. "This might be the right time to tell you that the snow globe...was from me."

She can't decide if she hates or loves how she can hear the smile in his voice. "No. Really?"

She turns back around, smiling sarcastically at him. "Ha-ha. But don't get too excited about it. I made little figurines to represent the four of us at Portland Row, but you can't even see them from the outside. It's ridiculous."

"It's okay. I'll know they're there."

At that moment, she felt a rush of gratitude towards Lockwood. He made everything a little easier, a little sweeter. They were standing so close that she could see a tiny snowflake on one of his eyelashes. She didn't dare breathe.

"There really never was any competition."

"I know."

"Then why does it sound like you don't believe me?"

She frowned. "I do believe you."

"I don't think you do."

"...do you want me to not believe you?"

"Y/N."

"What?"

"There's something you should know."

"Lockwood, I am going to throttle you."

"You're standing under mistletoe."

She glanced upwards, and it was as though all the air had been stolen from her lungs. Against the pitch-black sky and the gentle dusting of snow, a soft white sprig of mistletoe was curling out of the edge of a branch. She lowered her eyes back to Lockwood's, and her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned over.

As impossibly close as they were before, they were even closer now, and it still felt like they would spend their whole lives trying to get close enough to each other. She kissed him the way she loved him - desperately, with her whole being. When they broke apart, the tip of his nose and cheeks were tinged pink, and there was a light dusting of snow on his hair. In that moment, all she remembered thinking was that none of his presents made a better gift than he did.

As they walked home with fingers tangled together, she realised that they didn't need some parallel universe. In every universe, they would somehow, somewhere, find each other, and dare to love. 

TAGLIST: @novelizt @thegreathuxton @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[a-killer-obsession]

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 11 - Trial and Error

You try something new, and Kid makes a big mistake.

WC: ~8k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

You stared awkwardly at the wide range of brightly coloured vibrators and dildos on display in the store. You had no fucking clue what you were looking at or what you were supposed to pick out. Heat had somewhat temporarily abandoned you to peruse the porn selection, and you looked over your shoulder for him anxiously, wondering if you should just give up and go bug him for help.

“Doing okay darlin’?” an older woman with bright pink hair approached you. She had a nametag, indicating she worked here, but otherwise wore casual looking clothing. The smile on her face was gentle and soothing, you felt immediately more comfortable with her there.

“Yeah um.. I think I need some help,” you admitted, “I'm not really sure what I'm looking for”

“Of course baby,” the woman cooed, “we've got all the features written out under the price tags, do any of them sound interesting? I could show ya how they work on your hand if you'd like”

“I um… I can't read,” you told her anxiously, feeling defeated. A room full of dildos and porn, and this was what made you embarrassed. She didn't seem like the kind of woman who would taunt you about it though.

“Oh that's no problem sweetheart!” The woman said, “I'm happy to help. What sort of things do you like? Clitoral stimulation? Penetration? Nipple play?”

“She's still figuring things out,” Heat told the woman, appearing like a saviour beside you, a handful of porn mags in hand, “she only just got out of a bad situation recently so she's not had much opportunity to learn what she enjoys”

“You the boyfriend?” the woman asked curiously.

“Uh, just a friend helping her figure herself out,” Heat answered with a nervous laugh, “she likes clit stimulation, and she recently discovered she likes receiving oral, so I'm thinking one of those suction toys that simulate it might work good for her, but something for her to explore penetration on her own wouldn't go amiss either. Give your what you'd consider an exploration starter kit, money isn't a issue”

“Very good, I have just the toys!” she picked up a small, purple dildo, tapered at the end and with a very slight bulge to the top. The overall shape was smooth and elegant, wide enough to be pleasurable but slimmer than the average penis, something ideal for a virgin to experiment with. Of course, you had been penetrated before, but there was no need to worry this woman with the horrific details of your past sexual encounters. She held down the button on the end and it started to vibrate, and she held it gently against the back of your hand so you could feel it. Your eyes widened as the woman clicked the button a few more times, making the vibrations more intense, before handing it to you for you to explore the settings on your own. You had the sudden realisation that your vibrating abilities thanks to your devil fruit were maybe far more useful than you'd initially thought, but it wouldn't hurt to have something to replicate the ideal levels. You didn't want to accidentally overdo it and hurt yourself after all.

“This one is what I recommend for newbies,” she explained, “its cable rechargeable, waterproof, easy to clean, and has 15 different settings ranging from gentle vibrations to more intense pulsing. It's ideal for both clitoral stimulation and penetration”

You handed the toy back to the woman who turned it off and returned it to its display holder, before selecting another toy. “Now, in terms of suction toys, you can't beat this model. It has ten power settings, waterproof, cable rechargeable, near silent, and the slim profile makes it ideal for using in tandem with penetrative sex. Paired with a good lubricant it offers orgasms that will truly blow you away with very little effort on your part”

“She'll take both,” Heat answered for you.

“Very good, now I'm assuming she also requires cleaning supplies and lubricants?” The woman asked.

“Yeah, get her whatever you recommend,” Heat said, “and these too, please” he continued, holding out the magazines for the woman.

“Very good, I'll get everything collected and rung up for you at the counter, let me know if you need my help with anything else” the woman smiled, taking the mags from Heat and collecting several boxes from the shelves under the displays, before walking away to collect a few other things. She met you at the counter and began to scan and bag the items. “Your friend must care about you a lot, this is quite the kind gesture” she noted to you as she scanned the last item and slid it into a discreet, unmarked bag.

“She deserves it, after the shit she's been through,” Heat told her. The woman smiled sadly in response, and you got the sense that maybe she had an inclination of what you'd been through. Given you still looked pretty boney even after a few weeks of eating well, it was probably clear that you'd been abused quite badly, you still had the clear physical appearance of someone who had been starved for a long time.

Heat paid for the items with a generous tip and thanked her for her help, leading your excited but nervous self out of the store before you could burn a hole with your eyes into the massive dragon themed dildo you'd been staring at curiously that stood proudly on display behind the counter.

Heat followed you back to your room at the inn after running errands together, still carrying your shopping bag like the gentleman he was. The two of you had already left most of what he'd bought with a couple of henchmen to be taken back to the ship. It was late afternoon now, soon the others would be gathering at a nearby pub that Killer had picked out for dinner. Kid wasn't a fan of fancy restaurants, but pubs had a much more casual atmosphere, more suited to his tastes.

“You gonna try out your new stuff?” Heat smirked as he pulled your things out of the paper bag that hid the adult store items, leaving just his mags inside to bring back to his own room later.

“I was gonna have a shower, actually,” you replied, sliding off your shoes and pulling your toiletries from your duffle bag, “did you want to join me?” you added with a coy smile on your face. There'd been dirty thoughts in your head all day since Heat had explained oral to you, and the trip to the adult store certainly hadn't helped the situation.

Heat squinted at you, trying to decide if you were serious. Sure you'd fooled around plenty, but you'd never been below the belt with him, he'd been holding off till he felt like you were ready. He wanted you to learn how you liked to be pleased before you focused on anyone else. To be fair though, you had slept with Delilah last night, so maybe you were ready to experiment on other people. And if pleasing others was what made you feel good, who was he to deny you? Lord knew he got off making you feel good.

“What's that face for?” You mused, already half undressed and on your way to the door of the attached bathroom, mask discarded and seastone in hand.

“Are you sure you're ready for that?” Heat asked you with genuine concern.

“Yeah, I'm sure,” you smiled, tugging on his hand to pull him to the bathroom, “to be honest I really liked pleasing Delilah last night, I wanna please you too”

“You don't have to do that,” he said softly, while you tugged at the lacing on his corset to loosen it.

“But I want to,” you purred. Your genuine smile made his heart flutter and his dick twitch. Fuck you were hard to say no to.

You finished undressing and turned the shower on, adjusting the temperature before stepping in. You stood under the stream for a moment, letting the warm water wash over you, before giving him an almost tender, inviting glance. He sighed in defeat and finished undressing, sliding in behind you. It was a reasonably sized shower, big enough to fit Heat's large frame beside you, but small enough that you were forced to stand somewhat close. You let out a contented sigh as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his front and pressing kisses along your collarbone. You twisted in his arms to face him, pulling him down with arms around his neck so you could kiss him, he was so goddamn tall.

The water spilled over you both as you smoothed your tongue against his, and you pressed hard against his front, rubbing your soft abdomen against his growing erection. You could feel the cool metal of the piercings on the underside pressing against your skin. Out of curiosity you pulled away from the kiss, wanting to see better, and he gave you space to look, proud of his size and not at all uncomfortable with your staring.

“You can touch it, if you want,” he told you reassuringly. Your eyes flicked to his quickly before returning to his dick, a hesitant hand coming up and running along the underside, admiring the weight of it, before wrapping your fingers as much as you could around the base and stroking it gently. The skin there was surprisingly smooth, like velvet in your palm, and you ran your hand carefully over the piercings, scared you might hurt him. His hand wrapped around yours as he groaned at the first feeling of your warm touch on him, and he encouraged you to squeeze a little firmer, guiding your hand to stroke up and down near the base the way he liked. He let go as you got the gist of it, your eyes shifting between watching yourself stroke him, and his face as he groaned quietly and supported himself against the wall behind you.

“That's it- hnng- good girl,” Heat groaned, “just like that”

The pleasurable sounds he was making made arousal pool between your legs and you found yourself rubbing your thighs together to get friction. You only had one free hand, since you needed the other for your seastone, and unfortunately for you it was currently in use.

“Heat, can you hold my seastone against me?” You asked, holding it out for him. He nodded and took it from you, careful to make sure it stayed against your skin as he slid the small pebble up your arm, resting it against your shoulder. You held his hand to your shoulder as you started to kneel, his eyes growing wide in surprise.

“Yin, you don't have to do that, just your hand is enough,” he told you.

“But I want to,” you said, squatting in front of him, still pumping him while your other newly freed hand ran over his thigh. Your mouth was centimetres away from his tip now, and you looked up at him with eyes that were dark with lust. “I want to taste you so fucking bad,” you purred, running your nose against the side of his cock. He grunted and gave in immediately to your dirty words.

“Fuck, okay,” he moaned, “just- don't push yourself too far. If you don't like it we can stop, I won't be angry”

You smiled at your victory and gave him an experimental kitten lick against the side you'd been nuzzling, before making more kitten licks all over. Precum started to leak from the tip as he watched you, and you observed it curiously before lapping it up and humming contently. You weren't sure what you were supposed to do, so you just kept swirling your tongue around the head, looking up at him with innocent eyes as he grunted.

“Put it in your mouth baby, suck on it,” he purred, sensing your were in need of some guidance and petting the top of your head, “just watch out for your teeth”

You hesitantly did as you were instructed, sucking him into your mouth maybe a little too harshly. His hips bucked forward and forced himself further in, making you gag a little in surprise. “Fuck, sorry baby,” he pulled away from you, “you just felt so fucking good”

To his surprise, you weren't at all fazed, instead unbelievably turned on by the idea of him being deeper inside you. After all, you'd only ever had his fingers. It felt dirty having him in your mouth, and you suddenly wanted him to fill you. You ran your tongue back over the head of his cock before swallowing him again, concentrating on suppressing the need to gag as you took him as far as you could down your throat, nestling your nose against his pubes and looking up at him with doe eyes. His eyes were wide as you paused with him deep down your throat, your eyes watering a little but determined to keep him inside you as you swallowed around him.

“Fuck, Yin,” he groaned, “fuck”

You let him go, keeping your hand on the base of his dick and stroking more as you caught your breath. “Did I do good? Should I do it again?” You cooed, looking up at him for praise.

“Yes baby, you're being such a good girl for me,” he cooed. It was becoming quite apparent to him that you had a praise kink, even if you didn't realise it so he made sure to play into it. “You're doing so good, make it go in and out of your mouth baby”

You took him back in your mouth and bobbed your head back and forth, rubbing your tongue against the piercings on the underside as you moved. You were determined to please him, practically suckling on him as you moved. He was leaning against the wall holding on for dear life while you went down on him, trying to keep it together enough to keep the seastone pressed to your shoulder. One of your hands returned to his shaft, stroking him at a pace to match your mouth, while the other slid between your legs, where your pussy was spread wide open as you squatted in front of him. You felt so in control and knowing that it was you making him moan was making you unbearably horny, so you fingered yourself furiously. He could hear the lewd sounds of your fingers pumping in and out of you, and it made him lose control, the coil in his stomach ready to spring at any second.

“Fuck, Yin, I'm gonna-” he pulled out with the intention of cumming on the shower floor, so you wouldn't be surprised by it in your mouth, but he'd reacted too late and instead spurted hot white threads of cum over your face, forcing you to close one eye. “Sorry, fuck, sorry Yin”

You wiped the cum off your eye and looked at the sticky substance on your hand, before licking it off curiously. You found yourself liking the salty taste, aroused by the fact that it had come out of him, and that you had made it come out, so you wiped the rest from your face, pushing it into your mouth and licking it off your fingers, humming contently while he looked down at you with astonishment. On top of the praise kink, he was starting to think you had a thing for fluids, especially considering how you'd spoken about your time with Delilah, having gotten the more graphic details over lunch. When there was nothing on your face, you grabbed him again, forcing his over sensitive cock back into your mouth to milk him clean of anything left.

“Hnng- fuck- Yin,” he panted hard as he pressed his head against the cool tile wall, the water from the still running shower trickling down his back. You kissed your way up his chest as you stood, and nipped at his neck, humming contently at how utterly lewd and powerful you felt. You took the seastone from his weak hand and tilted his chin down towards you, forcing him to look at you, overcome with that feeling of power and desire.

“Heat, get on your fucking knees,” you growled.

His cock twitched back to life at your sudden confidence, and he dropped down in front of you immediately, draping your knee over his shoulder and immediately diving between your legs like a man starved. He’d wanted to do this for so long, having only ever tasted you off his fingers, wanting so badly to drink from the source. You pulled his hair tight as you leaned back against the shower wall, forcing his head to stay between your legs while he ate you out with fervour. You were slick with arousal and he moaned into you, holding your hips tight as he slid his thick tongue inside you and pumped you with it. You weren't the only one who enjoyed going down on a hot, wet pussy. He felt so fucking good inside you and you rolled your hips in time, letting him fuck you with his greedy tongue while his thumb worked away at your clit, till you felt your muscles tighten and you came suddenly with a shout on his face. Heat lapped up your release with a groan, both of your eyes closed in bliss as he worked you through the heavy orgasm.

Finally sated you let his hair go, and he carefully slid your leg off his shoulder, standing back up and pulling you close. You hugged each other tight while you came down from your high, and sighed contently at how warm and safe you felt with your naked body pressed against his under the running water. You leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him tenderly, tasting yourself on his lips, and pushing stray hair out of his face as you lowered yourself back into the hug.

“You're so incredible,” Heat mumbled into your shoulder, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you, Heat, for letting me try that,” you purred happily, “it was fun,” you giggled.

“Any fucking time,” he laughed, “I don't think I'm gonna even bother to go find a woman tonight anymore, that was too fucking good”

You giggled again, filled with pride, and nuzzled into him, “me neither, I was going to go see Delilah again but, do you think maybe you'd want to stay with me tonight instead, Heat?” you looked up at him with warm, adoring eyes as he stood properly upright, his hands still on the small of your back, “this is nice, just being close to you”

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed, “I'll stay, but we have to go to dinner first. We can hang out after”

“That sounds good,” you mumbled, half asleep between his warm body and the warm water.

“Are we gonna actually wash while we're in here?” Heat laughed.

“Mmm… nah,” you replied, pressing your face in to his chest, “let's just stay like this”

“Okay sweetheart, that's fine by me,” he cooed, running a hand through your pretty purple hair.

The next day passed with not much of note. Heat woke up in your bed after more fooling around, and you helped him with the last of his errands before wandering aimlessly around the town together. There wasn't much to do if you weren't into winter sports, so you just hung out and got high in your inn room, while Heat happily let you explore his body further. You both decided to head back to the bar that night though, meeting up with the other commanders who already had women slung over their laps. Delilah seemed excited to see you again, and happily followed your back to your room once more, this time taking full advantage of your devil fruit, as well as your new toys and newfound confidence. She left as you were waking the next morning, promising to see you later at the bar.

It was evening again, and the men were all taking full advantage of their last night on shore, the bar now filled with Kid Pirates all hoping to get laid one last time before setting sail tomorrow morning. You were one of the last to arrive, having decided to take an afternoon nap which had accidentally gone a little long, and grabbing a quick bite in the restaurant next door to the inn before heading to the brothel where you knew the others would be. Delilah was already in the booth, and you were surprised to see her fawning over Kid. You didn't feel a pang of jealousy though, you knew Delilah was a working woman who had already sacrificed two nights of potential income to sleep with you, and considering how late you were she probably thought you weren't coming at all, so she'd no doubt decided to make some cash with a paying customer instead.

“Yin!” she exclaimed as soon as she saw you, “I thought I wasn't going to have the pleasure of your company tonight!”

The booth was full, so you decided to just slide on to Heat's currently empty lap, who graciously wrapped his arms around your waist and indicated to a passing waitress to bring another drink.

“Yeah sorry, nap ran long,” you yawned, “did I miss anything?”

“Delilah was just telling me about your fun little vibrating trick,” Kid laughed, “sounds like the two of you had fun last night. Our sweet Delilah missed you the other night, but I took real good care of her for you”

You were unphased by Kid's attempt at teasing, thinking that you would at least have some inclination to be jealous or petty about Kid stealing ‘your’ woman. Unfortunately for him, you couldn't care less, especially not when you'd spent that time with Heat instead, so it's not like you were missing out. Kid scowled at the lack of reaction, more interested in the drink the waitress had just dropped off for you, and picked up his own drink with a heavy frown.

“I didn't know you and the blue haired one were an item,” Delilah noted, observing the casual way you sat on Heat's lap, “kind of him to let you play with me”

“Well, they do say sharing is caring,” you winked at Kid who almost choked on his drink, “Heat and I are just friends though”

“Friends with significant benefits,” Wire laughed.

“They're very good benefits,” you smirked. Heat started to go pink behind you and cleared his throat.

Delilah gave Kid a knowing look before sliding closer to you, pulling your thigh so it rested on her lap instead of Heat's. It left your legs spread wide open under the table as Delilah's hand ran up your inner thigh teasingly. “Maybe you'd like to join our little party with the captain then?”

You froze and Heat could feel your muscles tensing, you were definitely uncomfortable at the suggestion. “Yin doesn't fuck around with the captain,” Killer interrupted before Heat could come to your defense. He felt sorry for you, looking just as scared as you had when Kid had pinned you to the table, and he had no doubt you were remembering that exact moment.

‘Oh? How come?” Delilah purred, still determined to sway you into a threesome.

“None of your business,” Killer snapped. You gave him a look that, even with most of your face obscured by your mask, still read as a silent thank you. His protectiveness was unexpected, but welcomed.

Delilah let the topic go, sensing there was something she was missing here, and slid back over to Kid. “Well, maybe I'll just come say hello later,” she added, “after your captain is done with me”

“If you can walk by the time I'm done with you,” Kid smirked. Killer groaned at the cocky remark and rolled his eyes under the mask.

You felt strange, suddenly feeling like a burden, and slipped off Heat's lap to stand. Once again you were being dropped for someone who would do more, it made you feel insecure and insignificant. “I think maybe I'll head to bed actually,” you said. There was a hint of sadness in your voice that the other commanders didn't miss, “I think maybe that nap wasn't quite enough, I'll see you guys tomorrow. It was nice meeting you, Delilah”

You walked away without another word, not really entirely sure in yourself why you were leaving. You just knew you felt like you didn't really belong here anymore, despite Killer's kind defence of you, and maybe you'd feel more comfortable spending the night alone for once.

It was late when a knock came on your door. You groaned and dragged yourself out of bed. You hadn't really been asleep anyway, just laying in bed, thinking. You were surprised to find a very drunk Delilah leaning against the frame when you opened the door. She was half naked, her hair in disarray, the smell of sex and alcohol strong on her. She pushed her way into the room, closing the door behind her. You didn't try to stop her, welcoming the distraction.

It wasn't long before you were both falling asleep, naked and spent, after several rounds of messy fucking and some special use of your devil fruit. Or at least, that's how it looked at a glance. As soon as she heard the soft sounds of your snoring, Delilah gave up her masquerade and slipped out of the bed, hastily throwing on her clothes and grabbing your mask from the side table before leaving. She stopped at the door, throwing you one last guilty look, before quietly sliding out and heading back to Kid's room.

Not getting a rise out of you earlier had pissed him off, and a pissed off Kid, combined with alcohol, was never a good mix. He'd had a curiosity about your mask since you came on board, but Killer had always berated him for even thinking about touching it. But Killer wasn't here right now, and Kid was pissed off, so he'd paid Delilah handsomely to get the mask for him. She felt awful about it, but a berri was a berri - she had bills to pay, and she’d probably never see you again anyway. He probably could have gotten it himself, but Killer would have drowned him if he'd found out he'd gone to your room and scared you. At least this way you got a few orgasms out of the arrangement, he praised himself for being so kind.

Nothing seemed amiss when you woke up, stretching and yawning, wiping the sleep from your eyes. You flopped back down, not quite ready yet to open your eyes. With a groan you reached your hand over to the side table, dropping your seastone in favour of your mask. It clattered against the wooden floor as you missed the unfamiliar table, so used to the size and position of your table back on the ship. No worries, you'd just pick it up in a minute. You kept your eyes closed as you reached for your mask, it was easier to avoid being overwhelmed that way. It was a bad habit, really, letting go of the seastone before grabbing the mask, but if you did it this way you only needed one hand, and you were lazy. You found the surface with your hand, patting around blindly for it, and finding the surface empty. Maybe you knocked it down in your sleep? Not a problem, it was made of a metal shell, so you'd be able to make it out on the floor if you opened your eyes.

You could see far too much when you opened them, the wooden walls and furniture of the room becoming basically invisible as you saw right through them, save for the occasional pipe or wire or nail. You could see people in the other rooms, all Kid Pirates and a handful of working women, since the rest of the inn's residents had fled when the crew checked in. It was hard to tell who was who, just warm bodies scattered in a void of space, broken up by the occasional metal from a door handle, or weapon, or the small personal safes that each room featured. Most of them seemed to be doing something akin to packing, some of them still horizontal, sleeping you assumed. A few were a few interacting with other bodies, no doubt getting in last minute romps before they set off.

You shook your head and tried to focus, you knew from experience that you only had a few minutes before you became overwhelmed, it was important you found your mask before then. You set your sights on where the floor of your room should have been, and scowled when you found no sign of your mask. You looked around where you estimated the boundaries of your room to be, finding only your dagger and sword, and the metal inner workings of the toys Heat had bought you the other day. Your shoulders twitched as the buzzing noise around you started to creep in, becoming louder as you grew disoriented and your focus began to falter. Your last hope was the seastone, you would be able to see it if you looked, since it nullified your ability. Seastone created something of a void in your vision whenever you looked at it without your mask, not so much a physical object, more just a complete lack of anything.

You underestimated where the edge of the bed was and fell, landing face first on the hard floor. You raised yourself up on your hands, beginning to lose your hold on reality. You could see the seastone, but it seemed like it was under the bed. You felt for the edge of the bedframe and tried your best to reach under, but the bed was too low and your arm was too short, flapping around uselessly under the bed as your shoulder drove painfully into the bedframe. Panic was setting in as you felt yourself starting to slip away, so you turned desperately to where you had seen your katana, hoping you could slide it under the bed to free the stone.

You were crawling towards it on your hands and knees, twitching, when it finally became all too much. You curled into a ball and whimpered, you couldn't even make out your own voice over the deafening sound of everything, so you had no idea if you'd be able to yell for help. Would it be loud enough for anyone to hear? Would you even be saying anything coherent? You couldn't tell, and your heart rate was spiking as you began to hyperventilate, the twitching becoming more frequent as you became hyper aware of every molecule of air vibrating around you.

You pushed yourself up onto your knees and desperately looked around, too far gone to know what you were looking for or what you needed. That was when you spotted it. Your mask.

Or at least, what looked like parts of your mask. And in front of it, the unmistakable metal-armed body of Eustass Kid. An inhuman growl escaped you as you realised that he had your mask, and he was disassembling it. A bloodlust sparked in you, those feral instincts that had long since laid dormant taking over as your mind singled in on one goal - kill Kid. Kill Kid, kill Kid, KILL KID.

You rushed towards him, smashing into and bouncing off a wall you hadn't seen, or had forgotten existed, and you roared at it like it had personally offended you. You pressed your hand to it, vibrating the wood till the molecules broke apart and it scattered into dust, leaving a hole in the wall for you to pass through. You continued this way on a direct route to Kid - charging forward, crashing into a wall, destroying it, continuing. You passed through a room and a body approached you. You didn't recognise them, seeing only their blood and their organs and their bones, and went on the attack, in defence against someone you had no way of knowing was harmless. In your fury you liquified their insides, not even bothering to watch their lifeless body fall as you continued on your war path. It had been one of the henchmen, and the woman he had been with screamed, running panicked for her life. You did not hear it.

The body you were zeroing in on perked its head in the direction of the scream, about to stand, when you came barreling through the wall. Your eyes were lifeless and empty and you were breathing like a rabid animal, twitching like you were covered in fire ants as you approached Kid. He stood to defend himself, immediately realising he’d fucked up, and you charged, jumping at him and sinking your teeth deep into his neck till you tasted blood. You could have killed him quickly the same way you had the henchman, but you wanted to make his pain last longer, you didn't want to make it a quick kill. You wanted to feel him bleed out, feel his hot blood pooling while he cried out, hear and see his heart take its last weak pump. You coated your body in armament haki, making yourself a bullet proof leech as he fruitlessly punched and clawed at you, falling to the ground in his struggle.

Killer had been finishing the last of his packing when he heard the scream. Shrill, terrified, the sound of a woman who thought their life was in genuine danger. He could only assume a henchman had gone too far, and tutted as he left his room, preparing to scold whoever had made the poor woman scream. He caught the tail end of her as she raced down the hall, mostly naked, disappearing down a stairwell. Retracing to the open door she had come from, he cleared his throat in preparation for yelling, but stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed the hole in the wall. It was a perfect circle, a large pile of wood dust sitting under it, like someone had painstakingly sanded away at the wall layer by layer. He stepped through the hole and immediately regretted not bringing his weapons when he found the body of a henchman, lifeless on the floor, a pink goo and dark blood dripping from every orifice. His open eyelids revealed empty holes where his eyes should have been, a pool of liquid dripping from them instead. He almost gagged under the mask, it was a gruesome sight even for him.

He was about to investigate closer when Kid began to shout nearby, and his head snapped in the direction of the yelling to find two more perfect holes, Kid falling to the ground in a struggle on the other side of them. Killer ran, ready to destroy whoever or whatever had dared to attack his captain, weapons be damned he'd use his bare fists if he had to.

He panicked when what he found was you, your unmistakable purple hair swinging back and forth as Kid tried to roll to get you off him, revealing your teeth deep in his neck as he moved. He was smacking you with his metal arm, and you were entirely unphased, covered in the metal shimmer of strong armament haki. A quick glance around the room to look for a weapon or something he could use to subdue you and he spotted your mask, dismantled on the desk of the large room. He growled under his own mask in anger as he put two and two together.

He leaned over the two of you and grabbed your face, sticking his fingers in the corners of your mouth to force your teeth out of Kid's bleeding neck, like you were a wild dog. You made a feral sound that made a shiver run down his spine as he attempted to pry open your jaw, but with more force than he would like he was able to loosen your bite enough to pull you away. Moving on pure instinct he ripped off his mask, jamming it on your head to muzzle you before pressing you to the floor, using his entire weight to pin you down. You roared and fought back, but after a few moments you began to settle, your armament haki dissipating and the feral growls turning to small sad whimpers as you calmed.

“Kid what the fuck did you do,” Killer growled, turning his uncovered face to look at Kid, who was trying his best to stop the bleeding on his neck with a discarded shirt. The unbridled rage was clear on Killer's face, his piercing blue eyes told Kid he was ready to kill him. A sight he hadn't seen since they were kids, it shook him to his core. “I told you, I fucking told you NOT TO FUCKING TOUCH HER MASK”

“BUT SHE PISSED ME OFF!” Kid snapped back, “I just wanted to have a look! She had her seastone! It was fine!”

“Evidently Kid, it was not fucking fine. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Killer snapped, “put it back together, NOW. I'm fucking serious Kid, I will fucking kill you myself if she doesn't do it first, there is nothing stopping her right now from liquifying both of us at any second”

“Fuck, okay, okay, I'm doing it,” Kid grumbled, immediately putting his devil fruit in to action to manipulate the mask pieces while he continued to hold the shirt to his neck. “Why is she calm now? Shouldn't she still be rabid?”

“She told me my mask is a blind spot for her, so I thought it might dull her senses,” he explained, “she gets like that because she's overwhelmed, so I was hoping blocking most shit out would help.”

You'd stopped fighting him entirely, and he wondered if it was okay to let you go now. He lifted himself off you slowly and you stayed where you were, but reached for him blindly. He figured you were probably terrified, so he stayed sitting cross legged on the floor next to you, and pulled you into his lap protectively, letting you burrow into him and use him as an anchor. The mask made it tricky, and you whimpered as you bumped awkwardly into his chest, but you managed to wrap yourself around him anyway, sitting in his lap facing him, with your legs and arms wrapped firmly around him while you made sad little sniffles. He did his best to comfort you, keeping you held tight against him and stroking your back. It was weird seeing you in his mask, he'd never let anyone wear it, but it'd been the first thing he'd thought of to sedate you. He didn't like however that there was currently a massive hole in the wall behind them where anyone could walk in at any time and see his unmasked face.

Kid stood over the two of you and cleared his throat, interrupting Killer who was apparently lost in his thoughts, idly rocking you back and forth. Kid was holding your mask out for him to take. “You good, Kil?”

“Yeah it's just.. weird to see someone in my mask..” he replied, taking your own mask from him. He sighed and removed his mask from you, quickly putting it back over his own head before putting yours on you. The second you felt the familiar pressure sliding on you grabbed it like a lifering, pulling it in to place and quickly switching it on.

When you finally opened your eyes you yelped, seeing Killer's mask so close to you, then looking down and realising you were in his lap. Not just in his lap, but effectively straddling him, your legs wrapped tight around his waist. You scrambled backwards out of it, backing up against the side of Kid's bed. “SORRY, SORRY!” you squeaked out as a visible blush spread down your face and neck.

“It's fine,” Killer assured you, hiding his own blush as he realised just how close you'd been, feeling the distinct absence of your weight and warmth. “Are you okay?”

You looked between Killer and Kid, who had a trail of blood down his chest as he held pressure on his neck, then you looked around and realised this was most definitely not your room.

“What- what happened?” You whispered, “did I- did I go feral?”

“You tried to take a fucking chunk out of me,” Kid growled. Killer shot him a dangerous look. It didn't matter that he had a mask back on, Kid knew the look well anyway. He quickly shut his mouth.

“Kid took your mask,” Killer explained, “and he's really fucking sorry, aren't you Kid?”

“I just wanted a look…” Kid replied like a scorned child.

“Kid,” Killer snapped.

“OKAY, FUCK, I'm sorry Yin, I didn't know you would actually go feral,” he mumbled, “what happened to your seastone?”

You scowled at him, doing your best to not just snap and kill him right then and there out of principle, “it fell on the floor when I was switching to my mask, which would usually be fine, if someone hadn't fucking taken it”

“I said I'm sorry okay!” He yelled.

“I don't fucking care what you say, you're fucking lucky I don't kill you right fucking now,” you spat, standing up and rushing at him, an accusatory finger poking him in the chest, “what the fuck is wrong with you Kid? Killer warned you what would happen, are you fucking stupid? I COULD HAVE KILLED YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!”

Killer was standing behind you now, resting a calming hand on your shoulder, pulling you gently away from Kid, “That's enough, one life lost is enough for today”

You snapped your head towards Killer, “one life lost? Did I fucking kill someone? Oh my god tell me it wasn't Heat please”

“Heat is fine, I assume,” Killer assured you, “it was just a henchman. No big deal”

You let out a heavy sigh and looked at Kid with an apologetic expression, “Sorry, Captain”

“This ones on me,” Kid sighed. You took a few steps closer and gave him a hesitant look before delicately pulling his hand that held the shirt away from his neck to inspect it.

“Fuck,” you whispered, standing on your tippy toes to be able to see properly, “the bleeding looks like its stopped but you should probably see Mohawk about this, I went pretty deep. Sorry Kid. I've always did tend to go for the jugular when I'm feral, doesn't help that its one of the only things I can see”

“Don't worry about it,” he mumbled, “lesson learned, I won't touch your precious mask again”

You sighed again and took a few steps back, apologising again before turning to leave. That's when you spotted the series of perfectly circular holes that led directly to your room and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Well, that's new,” you sighed, walking through the holes back to your room, stopping to glance at the dead henchman on your way. You didn't even know his name, so you exhaled in relief, no love lost.

Killer gave Kid one more warning glance before following you back through the holes to check on you, not fully convinced that you were fine.

“You okay?” He asked as he stood in the eave of the last hole, watching you hurriedly pack your things. He couldn't help but notice the new toys as you shoved them unceremoniously into your duffle bag, but he tried his best to shake the dirty thoughts they brought up.

“I'm fucking peachy, Kil,” you muttered, before taking your katana and using it to retrieve your seastone from under the bed. “Stupid fucking rock,” you mumbled as you threw it in your duffle bag. You zipped the bag shut and paused, looking at it sadly as you stood beside the dresser it sat on. “I nearly killed him, I tasted his fucking blood, Kil. I can still taste it.” You shook your head with a frown and opened your duffle again, retrieving your toothbrush and toothpaste and making a beeline for the bathroom. You left the door open, so as not to be rude to Killer.

“Its not on you, this is his fuck up,” Killer told you. You turned back to him as you brushed your teeth and softened, seeing his mask and suddenly realising what he'd done for you.

“Your mask…” you said softly, lowering your brush.

“You said it blocks shit, I thought it might help,” he said nonchalantly, scratching the back of his neck.

“It was good thinking,” you told him, spitting your mouth full of toothpaste and rinsing your mouth and brush. You returned the brush and paste to your duffle, staring at the bag with a small blush, “It smells like you in there. It reminded me of the blanket you put over me during the storm. You have a calming scent”

His breath stuttered as you stood properly and looked directly at him, and there was a pregnant silence as you stared at each other. Your eyes couldn't meet because of the masks, but he felt like you were looking right into his soul. His heart skipped as you closed the distance between you and gently took one of his hands in your own.

“Thank you Kil,” you said softly, finally breaking the silence. Your voice was sweet and sincere, “that must have been hard for you to do, I won't forget what you did for me”

“It's nothing,” he mumbled, glad for the mask that was hiding his bright red cheeks, “I did it to protect Kid”

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed, staring forlorn at his hand as you ran your thumb over the scarred back of it, “but thank you anyway”

“Right,” he cleared his throat, pulling his hand away, “I need to finish packing…”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, taking a few awkward steps back, “I'll uh.. I'll see you on the ship?”

“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled and quickly fled back to his own room.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

[justabratsworld]

Dear Darling

Ugh, another night of dealing with absolute morons. 

The sun started to rise to stir the ones who were deep in their slumber. The early morning air bites at (y/n)'s skin as she made her way home from her shift at the bar. It seemed like she has been working nonstop lately. No matter how many times she requested more time off or less hours her boss just kept adding hours to her schedule. Not that she should be complaining, she did get a nice raise to her paycheck and well, the tips she gets throughout the night sure doesn't hurt her pockets. Besides, she'd rather be there than at home where her safe place started become hell. With the money she was saving (y/n) should be able to move to a different city. If she was smart enough and saved a little bit more money she could even move into a more secured building where you needed a residential identification or a guest pass to go past the lobby. She was starting to become paranoid with everything and everyone. No matter what it was, whether it was just a cup that was moved slightly or a misplaced spice she used the night prior her brain automatically jumped to "intruder". Once there was even a jacket that was left on her couch that she KNEW didn’t belong to her or anyone she knew. Only, once she finally convinced her friend to come over to see that (y/n) wasn’t going crazy due to stress, the jacket was gone. As if it was never there in the first place. Soon after that incident when (y/n) was out running errands or coming home from work if someone kept looking at her or what going in the same direction too long for her liking she automatically thought they had to be her stalker. All because of those stupid letters. Before they started appearing on her nightstand every morning her life was well...not perfect per se but definitely much better than what it is now.

Entering her humble apartment (y/n) made her way to the bathroom to wash last night off of her, the amount of patrons who felt the need to touch her made her feel dirty. Maybe it was the feeling of hot water cascading down her skin that made her sit in the shower for far longer than what was necessary, or maybe it was her subconsciously trying to avoid the bedroom. The room that was once her safe haven. The one place that once was able  to make her thoughts calm down, now it was the source of her uneasy head. No matter what she couldn’t figure out who was tormenting her like this  No one was taking her concerns seriously, not without having proof. (Y/n) did try to set up cameras. Specifically one at her front door, balcony door, and in her bedroom, but when she went to look at the footage of the times she wasn’t at home or sleeping everything was deleted and she wasn’t able to recover any of it. The memory of the camera that was installed in her bedroom sitting on her kitchen table with a note that read “nice try dear:) you have to be more clever than that to catch a glimpse of me ;)”. 

If only dear (y/n) was this observent before. If she was this aware of her surroundings and alert when she was out and about she wouldn't be dealing with this. If she was as vigilant before she would have noticed the man who was constantly staring her at the club she worked at. Surely she would’ve realized that the original owner seemed to vanish and the new one had more of an interest of her. So much so he kept scheduling her to work longer and more hours. What a shame she didn’t even realize that the one person who was making her life miserable was so so close. Dear sweet (y/n), she was never truly safe. 

'How silly of me to think he would skip a day'

Grabbing the envelope off of my nightstand, taking note of the smell radiating off of it. The thought of the sender spritzing his cologne on it makes my stomach uneasy. Do I really want to open this? I already know that if I do read it all its going to do is add on to my the already growing paranoia. After staring at the red seal I decided to go against my better judgment I slowly open the bane of my existence.      

                 My dearest love, 

Oh how I yearn to feel the sensation of your skin, to hear your siren voice call out to me, to hold you close to me as I whisper sweet nothing into your ear, to have you shake with pure pleasure. Fret not my darling, for soon I will come and rescue you from the nightmare you live in. However, I ask of you to not judge me for my appearance for my heart is much purer than what shows. You will have to worry or want for nothing once you're in my arms. I will love you until my dying breath. My dear sweet sweet (y/n), be ready. For once I have you in my grasp I fear I will not be able to let you go. Knowing your silly little head my go into panic just know that I have eyes and ears everywhere. I am patient and know that I wouldn't harm you in any way, but I can't say that your friends or family will be safe if you were to do anything stupid. I know my baby is smart. I know you won't do something you'll come to regret. 

        See you soon dear. 

Shit. I knew I shouldn't have read that stupid letter-well if I didn't I wouldn't have known that he apparently plans on taking kidnapping me. Shit. I have to call the cops. I have to tell someone but who would even believe me. The police didn't even care when I reported someone breaking in and leaving these letters. If anything they're probably in cahoots with my fucking stalker. I mean, how else would he have known I reported him. Just thinking of the underling threat he left brings a sense of dread. Maybe if I leave town he can't get me? How am I suppose to do that undetected though. He obviously knows my work schedule so me not showing up tonight will surely tip him off that I left. Shit. What did I do to deserve this? Who's attention did I attract? 

Glancing at the alarm clock I take a deep breath and head towards my medicine cabinet. I need to take something to let me sleep so I can go into work tonight. The letter never states when he's coming but there's no point fighting or hiding. Maybe if I just act like I never read that letter I can pretend that my life is normal. Besides, I may have more time to figure out what I'm going to do before the inevitable happens. Popping a few melatonin gummies I made my way to my bed. Weird, those tasted different than what they normally do. A lot less chewier too...maybe I'm overthinking it. I do need some sleep. After last night and that weird ass letter I deserve some shut eye before going through this all over again tomorrow morning.

-

Well damn, my head feels fuzzy. What time is it? It's dark...did my alarm not go off? I know I have it set? Why do my blankets feel different....this bed feels different too...oh well there goes my vision-

- 

"Baby girl, it's time to wake up. You've been asleep for too long. Travis! How much chloral hydrate did you put in those gummies of hers? She knocked the fuck out." Feeling a hand rubbing my cheek a rush of adrenaline goes through me as I try to sit up. What the actual- 

"Breathe baby, breathe. You're okay. It's okay, here focus on me. Yeah? Atta girl. Keep your eyes on me. That's my girl, now now I know you're probably wondering what going on, but I did tell you I was going to pick you up and take you home. Now I'm not going to get into details and show you around your new home quite yet since you're probably still a little groggy but don't worry. Once you're awake and ready I'll tell you everything you need to know and introduce you to your new family. God, I waited too long to hold you." Why can't I move? I keep trying to say something and yet I can't. Fuck I'm so tired, why does it feel like my body isn't connected to my brain? 

"It's rude to ignore your husband-sorry soon to he husband-when he's talking to you baby. I know you're wondering what's going on and but you're obviously still tired. So lets go back to sleep, yeah? Don't be difficult babe, I'd rather not have to drug you again, I don't like seeing you like that" 

No no no no no I don't...want to...go...back....to...sleep.

Dear darling,

When you awake you might be confused and afraid. Don’t worry, I’ll be back shortly. I have some things to take care of. There's water and some medicine on the kitchen island for you. Be a good girl.

Love you lots, 

Adonis M. Corleone

Oh baby girl, just having you asleep beside me is pure bliss. I’m sorry I had to drug you, it was the only way to get you home safe without having to worry about you seeing where you were going. You are the light I need in my life. With all the blood on my hands, all the crimes I have committed, everything has been for you. After watching and waiting for years I finally have you in my arms. If you try to leave I’ll kill anyone in the way. My (y/n), you will be the perfect wife. The perfect mother. The perfect piece to our family. After all, behind every successful man is a beautiful woman taking care of him. Once I get your family out of the way, we will be truly happy. I’m so proud of you for not running away from me. You proved to me that not only are you strong but smart as well. You knew better than to disobey me and for that I won’t necessarily kill your family. I’ll just make sure they know not to look for you.

BREAKING NEWS: Missing 23 year old women. Series of letters found. 

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Gale’s Top 10: Most Hated characters

Rules:

1. To make this interesting, I’m going to be picking characters that aren’t intended by the writers to be hated (annoying maybe, but not hated). So Villains aren’t going to be on this list since most are often supposed to be hated.

2. I will be covering Anime, manga, cartoons, and comics

3. Only content I’ve heard of (and at least somewhat have exposure to)

4. This is a VERY personal list. And If you happen to like a character I list. If it’s below the top 5, that’s fine. But if it’s above the top 5, please seek professional help.

___________________________________________

10. Z from All Grown Up!

This is supposed to be a 10 year old kid. I kid you not.

When he was first introduced, I did figure it was the simple don’t judge a book by its cover story. And yea it was mid back then. But I remember watching more episodes and realizing. Z is actually really f***ing boring and the episode about not judging would have worked if they were all 14 or 15, but Z is 10! They are all 9 to 11 years old! This show was so dumb! What parent lets their kid dye their hair and get piercings at 10?! How would he even know what punk is?

I think my main problem with Z is really the fact that it shows how he doesn’t really fit in a story of 10 year olds. Which was one of the big problems with All grown up! As a show. And personally I hate being reminded of why it fails so much as I did enjoy it as a kid.

Though out of all the characters on this list. He at least isn’t a jerk.

The other reason was I am a Tommy and Kimi supporter so…. Yea. That too.

________________________________________

9. Ronaldo- Steven Universe

Now I know he’s supposed to be annoying. But that’s not my problem with him. His obsession with keeping beach city weird is fine. It’s the entitlement he has.

Not the conspiracy theories, it’s him trying to insert himself into it, trying to be the main character. And it’s always causing trouble for Steven. But I really think what does it is just how selfish he is about it. He never learns, starts to consider other people’s feelings. For Steven Universe, a show that gives pretty much everyone a redemption arc, Ronaldo basically goes “nah I’m good as is.” That’s what really grinds my gears about it.

____________________________________________

8. Chloe Carmichael from Fairly Oddparents

Now I should stress that before her introduction. The show was already on a decline with the introduction of Poof, Foop, Sparky.

But Chloe, oh she was a different breed of ruining the show. She made it unwatchable. Like people often complain about Mary Sue characters. CHLOE is a 100% grade A Mary Sue.

She just shows up, gets partial custody of the fairies, everyone likes her, but she somehow a bit miserable so she gets to have faries? Chester is WAY more deserving.

But seriously everything around her seemed to bend to her will. And it was so bad I think they canceled the show midway through the season.

But the reason she is so low is because she was simply the last straw on the shows decline and not the root cause. And I hardly watched the season she was in to care enough.

___________________________________________

7. Hiruzan Sarutobi - Naruto Shippuden

Now for those of you who watched only the first part of Naruto you are probably VERY confused on why this old man is on the list.

For those of you who have watched part 2. You know EXACTLY why he is on this list.

This man’s inability to stop ANY of the awful crap that resulted in the events of the story.

-He let the Uchiha extermination happen

-He let Danzo basically do whatever he wanted

-He didn’t stop Orochimaru who ended up attacking his village years later (and resulting in his death)

-Never told Naruto about his parents, and Litterally just gave the orphan money and dipped out.

-Didn’t stop the village from ostracizing Naruto

And the list goes on.

Like for some things, I get. The uchiha were planning a Coup and it could have gotten ugly but for f***s sake he could have done a better job in negotiations! Also why would he ever trust Danzo?

The rest is on him. Konohamaru is better off having Naruto as his mentor than that old bastard.

___________________________________________

6. Chris Thorndike - Sonic X

I hate this f***ing kid so much.

Oh people complain that Amy is so focused on sonic. Nah man, this kid only ever thought about sonic. This kid even tried trapping Sonic in his world because he didn’t want to say goodbye.

“But he’s lonely without his parents.”

WTF you talking about. His parents see him pretty often despite their careers and both clearly love him. He also has a maid and butler that both watch over and care for him. Not to mention uncle Chuck that is watching over him. Plus he has a group of friends his own age (all of which are more interesting characters than him).

I can’t even begin to describe how much of a jerk he can be. I will say the only reason he isn’t higher is because Chris actually TRIES to be useful in the matarex arc.

____________________________________________

5. Velma Dinkley - Velma

Or should I say Mindy kaling wearing Velma like a skin suit.

I hate when people turn beloved characters into self inserts and this entire show was this. Now I could go on about how they ruin Velma’s character. But this, this isn’t Velma. This isn’t even Scooby doo. It’s just using its name. And that’s all I can say. I’ve only watched enough clips to justify putting this on the list. This character and the show are both awful, so at least she isn’t ruining the show. And she does die, so at least there is some satisfaction. Which is why she is only this low on the list.

____________________________________________

4. Jared Shapiro - Powerpuff girls 2016

I don’t care what the interviews say. No one can convince me this kid isn’t a self insert of one of the writers.

An out of nowhere love interest for the main character.

While not as bad as the case of Velma, this one is much more personal having grown up with the OG powerpuff girls. So this makes me want to gag.

He’s such a bland and weird character. It’s just so creepy. I can’t even begin to describe how creeped out this character makes me feel. It does not feel like him and blossom are the same age either. It just ain’t right.

___________________________________________

3. Caillou from Caillou

I happen to like kids. Kids are creative and fun little gremlins. But whenever I see Caillou, the visceral urge to punt this child is intense.

He is the WORST child character in all of fiction. If the show never existed I’m 100% sure the world would be a better place.

He is a brat that NEVER learns. He says he does but he doesn’t. He is always the exact same little turd he’s always been. The only redeeming quality about that show is that the theme can be remixed into a bop.

___________________________________________

2. Paul Jeremiah Rabin from Amazing Spider-man

This man is probably the most hated man in all of spider-man comics.

Zeb Wells really s*** the bed so hard when he created this guy. Making a character that basically kidnapped Mary Jane, gave her super powers, made her get into a relationship with him, and basically ruined Spider-Man’s personal life.

You want to know how bad you messed up when in the issues where spiderman was possessed by the green goblin’s evil and he wanted to kill Paul, PEOPLE WERE CHEERING.

I do not think exists a single person that Likes Paul as a character. It’s actually kind of amazing.

But he is only number 2, because the ultimate spider man run is helping us forget the TRAVESTY that is Paul.

__________________________________________

1. Dave from Total Drama Pahkitew Island

He was the worst part of the worst season of total drama.

He started off as a whiny less then fun version of Noah and ended up as a clingy, psychotic toad that deserved to get ripped apart by bears.

Now with previous entrees I can kind of understand if there is someone that could like the character. Maybe…

But Dave?

If you actually like Dave and the person he became, we can not be friends. I would recommend a psych evaluation.

The boy is vindictive, controlling, condescending, and overall PATHETIC! And his label was Normal. The normal boy?! Nothing about that ‘Nice guy tm’ is normal. He was a piece of garbage.

Every action he takes is in his own self interest and I don’t see a SINGLE redeeming quality about him.

We are supposed to Want him to get together with Sky?

Him dating the Communal toilet would be a disservice to the toilet.

And that’s all I got to say on that matter.

[formosusiniquis]

intrada (sugar plum holly and her cavalier)

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Steve Harrington & Holly Wheeler; Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler WC: 5708 | G | Tags/Themes: ballet, references to The Nutcracker, pre-relationship steddie, good babysitter Steve Harrington AO3

It was supposed to be a date that would merge their interests, something that had seemed classy enough for Nancy and athletic enough that Steve thought it would keep his interest. Supposed to be, in that when Steve had gotten the tickets -- begged his mom first for her and his dad’s season ticket seats and then for help finding a good seat when she said she wasn’t about to waste a sixty dollar ticket on a date -- he wasn’t even sure if it was the kind of thing Nancy would like. A year and a half into their relationship and he was only just realizing how surface level their conversations were, either talking about work or treating every conversation like an interview and parceling out information like they were afraid to reveal too much about themselves. So he was really working off of a jewelry box he vaguely remembered from her bedroom when he bought tickets for a ballet that wouldn’t even happen for another five months.

He wanted to have them when she got to Indianapolis, something to look forward to for their first Christmas together in the city. The Nutcracker, a classic supposedly but if anyone would know its cultural significance he figured it would be Nance.

And Steve isn’t an idiot, okay. He knows that Nancy isn’t exactly thrilled to be in Indianapolis, knows that she’s not happy to be at her safety school and not Emerson. Imagines having to wait to see if she made it up the waitlist all summer wasn’t the greatest experience; and he has to imagine because any time he wanted to talk to her about it she blew him off to focus on alternatives and next steps.

That’s why he does it. Hopes that having something to look forward to at the end of her first semester will help. Hopes that this is the first of many Christmases together, maybe a tradition that they can keep up. Going to the ballet together every year until eventually they’re bringing their daughter along with them. Maybe it’s too early to think about kids, but this is the kind of future he prefers to imagine over future careers and what he’s going to do with the degree he’s stumbling his way through. So he thinks about Nancy with pinned back curls in a nice dress humming along to songs they hear every year.

It was supposed to be that. Until it turns out that their relationship really couldn’t withstand being in the same city as one another. Until he’s forced to confront the hindsight that they never really talked about anything significant in the year they were doing long distance. Until Nancy tells him that she’s transferring next semester, and she isn’t interested in doing long distance; that she isn’t interested in continuing their relationship at all.

So Steve resigns himself to just being out the money for the two tickets. It’s not like he’s going to go to a ballet by himself, and it seems shitty to bring another girl to something that he imagined becoming a staple of his romantic future with Nancy. It’s not the first time Steve has cut his losses. (But he’ll die before he tells his mom she was right about not giving him her good seats.)

He honestly kind of forgets about the whole thing. Finals week has just ended. He’s pretty sure he flunked the one actual business course he took this semester to keep his dad happy, and he’s trying to figure out if he can change his major without screwing his whole life up. He’s ready to have a few weeks off. 

Then Karen Wheeler calls.

Karen is a nice lady, though if he’s honest he’s not that upset that she isn’t going to be his future mother-in-law. She’s a little… flighty, as his mother would say with a backhanded smile. He privately thinks she sometimes forgets that she has three kids, losing track of one or the other at any given time. So maybe he shouldn’t be too surprised when she calls him two months after her daughter broke his heart begging him to take Holly to the ballet.

“Nancy mentioned it off hand months ago, and Holly hasn’t stopped talking about it since. I know it’s a big ask,” she had said in a tone that made it very clear she didn’t entirely care and would think poorly of him if he answered the wrong way, “but if you still have those tickets it would mean the world if you could take Holly.” He hadn’t missed the emphasis on the you either. Clearly Karen had no interest in making the trip to Indianapolis and he hadn’t needed to ask about Ted.

He didn't think of himself as a pushover, but he did think of little, blonde, six year old Holly: too quiet and too shy for her age. Fighting to be seen by a negligent dad and a mom who loves her children, but cares about appearances just enough to be blind. And he finds himself saying, “It’s no trouble, Mrs. Wheeler, but could you meet me somewhere halfway?”

It’s not until they’re settled into their seats -- on the floor but in the back, a booth behind them occupied by a pretty boy in a headset that Steve refuses to look at for too long -- that he realizes that he has no idea what this show is even about. Holly has been quiet since he picked her up, the least surprising thing about this trip right above Mike glaring at him from the passenger seat of Karen’s car as he moved Holly’s booster seat, but she’s studiously flipping through the little booklet the usher handed them on their way to their seats.

“Thank you for bringing me, Steve. I’m sorry Nancy didn’t want to come.” It is somehow simultaneously the longest and worst thing Holly has ever said to him.

“I’d rather see it with you, Holly Jolly.”

He’s saved from having to find anything else to say by the lights around them dimming, a prerecorded voice letting them know that any photography is forbidden and to expect a fifteen minute intermission, a bright and bouncing song picks up once the talking stops. He relaxes in his seat a little, relieved to get a few minutes before he’s expected to entertain a six year old that he’s spent more time with today than he had the entire time he and Nancy had dated.

Now Steve, contrary to what he very much knows is the popular opinion, isn’t just a jock. He knows there’s no talking in ballet. He’s even been to one before this, when he was still a cute novelty in his suit and bowtie accompanying his parents to the theater. What he is, according to his old nanny, every teacher he’s ever had, and about half of his exes, is a selective listener. 

It’s not his fault though that his brain instinctively cues into different sounds. The buzz of the light above him louder -- and more interesting -- than a lesson on factorials. The sound of someone’s relationship imploding hard to tune out no matter how interested he is in his own conversation. So of course the sound of someone talking cuts straight through classical music.

“Someone remind David he needs to smile at his partner, he looks like he’s dreaming of a murder suicide.”

And it wasn’t hard to find exactly who the voice behind him was talking about. The only frowning face at this Victorian party who was glaring daggers at the magician who was bringing in new dancers.

“Well he should know better than to sleep around the cast shouldn’t he, Birdie?”

A practiced reader of body language, Steve could almost see, underneath the choreography, the traces of impropriety. David’s undisguised glare. The wistful way the woman in blue tracked him around the stage. The woman in pink who mooned at the woman in blue. It made him wonder what kind of things were going on backstage.

He expects that to be in. He doesn’t really do theater much, too many memories of pinched arms and snarling trips home, but he does remember the one rule is no talking. But it doesn’t stop, barely slows.

“If Mark sets himself on fire doing this stupid firepaper magic shit do we get to go home early?

“Sure, Robbie Bobby, I’ll swap out for the Rat King last show of the run. Jay can do my job and I’ll do his.

“Five bucks someone slips on the snow as they exit.”

He wants to know if that stranger wins the bet but the curtain closes and Holly is shy and asking Steve where the bathroom is. So instead of working up the nerve to turn and talk to the man behind him, he’s smiling his best mom-charming smile and asking the first woman with kids he finds to take his guest into the girl’s room.

By the time she’s out of line, and Steve buys her the doll and the novelty sucker she’d been pretending she wasn’t looking at, they slip back into their seats as the lights dim again. No chance to make his own witty jokes or observations, break the ice and show off some of the Harrington charm.

The first dance goes by with little fanfare and Steve’s almost disappointed. Holly is wiggling excitedly in her seat next to him, clutching her own little nutcracker, and he’s not even paying attention to the stupid show that’s got her so excited because he’s too focused on a snarky stranger he’d only even looked at once.

“Jeezus christ, is Tom stuffing his dance belt? That’s some Bowie level shit happening up there.”

He had almost given up, so it figures the guy decides to speak up once Steve’s attention started to shift back to the stage. He nearly chokes on his own tongue, eyes darting straight down to the issue in question. Holly, the sweetest kid he’s ever met, pats his back softly, hesitantly, like she’s only seen the gesture before. “There’s a water fountain by the bathroom,” she tells him in a library whisper, “I can stay here and not move.”

“I’m okay Hols,” he lies, ignoring the itchy, squeezing feeling at the back of his throat and forcing the cough away.

It’s easy to do when there's something else to focus on, “No, Lizzie, I’m not going to shut up. No one cares if I’m occupying the channel.” The stranger seems to be gearing himself up for a monologue, “I’m not going to miss my cue, I am the cue. Robin’s not going to miss her cue  because it’s to music. Her cue doesn’t exist without me and she knows all of these songs and what note her cue goes with because it’s the eighth fucking time we’ve done it this week. If you or props have something you’ve got to say clearly you can get a word in edgewise.”

A few numbers go by after that, quiet except for the occasional professional, “Light cue, go.”

And then a song he actually sort of recognizes starts. A pretty strawberry blonde with a dainty smile tip toes and spins across the stage to plucked strings. Holly is enchanted, perched at the edge of her seat she reaches a hand over to clutch at Steve’s sleeve. A ‘tell me someone in the world is experiencing this moment with me’ sort of gesture. Awestruck and world rocked, stars in her eyes. Any resentment, any hard feelings that might have still lingered at babysitting evaporated. He got to be the person that let Holly experience this. A moment just for her, no family to take second place for.

The dancer on stage spins, clearing the floor in a series of tight, controlled rotations. Her arms guiding each step, swinging out and pulling her in, the driving force of her momentum. She’s moving fast, it’s an impressive display. Something shoots off in the opposite direction of that controlled turn, almost distracting in its break from that clean motion.

“Tell Props Chris just lost an earring.

“Fine, tell Wardrobe then.

“I’m not being a creep, I know she’s your girlfriend, Birdie. I merely observed her earring launching across the stage like an arrow from an elven bow.”

It’s like catching half of an Abbott and Costello act, like who’s on first being done through a telephone. It’s a strange sort of connection, listening in on a conversation that isn’t meant for him. He thinks for a sad second that he hasn’t ever had a friendship like this.

The show is wrapping up, dancers from scenes past making their way through for quick appearances. Holly is vibrating in her seat. Dancers in intricate costumes glide across the stage to bow toward the petite dancer in the nightgown and the strawberry blonde, Chris, beside her. A few moments later it's finished, the lights rising up around them and he shifts his primary focus back to Holly. 

In the middle of the room, they had the best view of the stage and the longest wait to leave. Steve tries to be subtle as he shifts Holly in front of him, afraid of losing her if she's out of his eyeline. He doesn't want to baby her by making her hold his hand. She's wiggling in place, but she keeps herself small. Careful not to bump into the people slowly moving out of the aisle in front of them. 

“Hols,” he starts to whisper, not wanting to embarrass her before he asks if she needs to hit the bathroom again.

But she grabs his sleeve in a child's iron grip,  "Steve, I want to meet the princess."

It turns out, it's hard to find a way to tell an excited kid that there aren't meet and greets after a show like this. Pleading blue eyes and a nervous smile looking up at him, desperate but scared to ask for too much. The least he can do is try.

The guy behind them is still there. 

The back of their line, Steve isn't holding anyone up by taking a minute to look. He's lithe, all in black. Hair pulled up in a half-assed bun, a headset tangled in the curls. He's wrapping up a thick cord, Steve couldn't guess why, but it draws focus to a toned arm that he's curling it around.

“Hey man,” the booth is a little bit above them, forcing Steve to rise up on the tips of his own toes to make sure he's visible, “I know you're working but I wanted to ask. The girl at the end- I, uh, I overheard you say she's your friend's girlfriend is there anyway you could convince her to come meet us.”

The guy startled a bit, probably surprised at being addressed. If he’s embarrassed at being overheard it barely shows a soft flush that could be from the warmth of the room. "The girl at the end?”

"The princess,” Holly shouts, bouncing up and down to try to see over the lip that blocks her view of the booth.

A change falls over the guy, his smile softens and eyes widen. He carefully drapes himself across the board of buttons and sliders to look Holly in the eyes. "Oh she's even better than a princess, she's a fairy. The sugar plum fairy. Is this your first time seeing the show with your dad?”

“Steve's not my dad.” She tells him with a little giggle, no doubt comparing Steve and Ted in her brain.

“Holly is my ex-girlfriend’s little sister.” He places his emphasis carefully.

“There’s a lot happening in that sentence.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, my Lady Holly, I bet I could convince Chrissy to meet a fan.” He promises with a flourish, “As long as your companion doesn't care that her faithful company will definitely be there the whole time.”

“Are you part of the group?” Steve asks, confident enough in his read of the situation to lay on a bit of charm. Letting his eyes trail down the sprawl of the guy's back. A thrill of victory at the little nod he gets back. “Then I won't mind at all.”

“Rockin’ Robin, tell me you still have your headset on?” He directs into his headset, “Great, remember that favor you and Chris owe me? I've got a fair princess who would like to meet our dear Sugar Plum Fairy.”

There's a lengthy pause. Even without the music playing the response is too quiet to be made out through his headset. “I don't see how that's relevant.” He hisses, “and she didn't ask to see an awful hag so you don't really even need to be there.”

His face clears after a second, looking to Steve like he wants them both to pretend that the earlier conversation hadn't been overheard. “Go through that door at the end of the front row right beside the stage.” The auditorium has cleared out enough he's got a clear view of the door the guy points to. “You'll end up in a hallway with a locked door at the end, wait there.”

“And if someone asks us why we're waiting there?” Steve asks, “I can tell them..?”

“Eddie, I'm- I Eddie Munson told you to wait there, if someone stops you before I get there.”

It's hard not to grin now that he has a name, Eddie, so he doesn’t bother. He puts on his best smile, the boyish and winsome one that always flusters whoever it's directed at, at least a little. Eddie is no exception looking back down at his work quickly. Steve takes a little pity, turning his attention back down to Holly.

She's twisting in place, hands clasped in front of her, as she stares off into space. He feels bad immediately, too familiar with what it's like to be a kid forced to entertain yourself while adults talk above your head.“C’mon, Holly Jolly, let's go wait for your fairy.” 

She takes his hand the second it's offered, swinging it back and forth, humming one of the songs from the show. “Steve, do you think she's a fairy like Tinkerbell or a fairy princess like Barbie?”

“I don't know Hols, what do you think?”

“Tinkerbell is kinda mean to Wendy, but she can do magic and fly. But Barbie is really nice so if she were a fairy she'd be a fairy princess and have a crown and help people.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes! And this fairy looked nice when she was dancing, but it didn't look like she had a crown. Can you be a fairy princess without a crown?”

Holly was buzzing, bouncing in place, clearly over whatever earlier nerves she'd had about talking to him. With her back to the door that they were told to wait by, she’s started listing all the different jobs Barbie has had and why they should make a fairy princess doll -- Karen’s homemade Barbie clothes, he learns, are not as well made as the hand me downs from Erica and Mrs. Sinclair, so she needs the real thing. Holly misses the way the door creaks open, the woman from onstage inching her way out of the half opened exit. 

Chrissy presses a finger to her lips, happy to help her surprise Holly, Steve keeps listening to her talk about why there should be a Barbie movie. He only nearly ruins the surprise when the dancer pushes down on the front of her saucer like skirt and it smacks her in the back as it flies up, letting her exit the back room.

Focused on her story, Holly doesn’t notice as the woman crouches down beside her. Not until she says, “This must be the princess I was told about.”

The screech she lets out is so joyful he almost doesn’t mind that his ears are ringing. Steve finds his smile mirrored on a freckle-faced girl dressed in the same all black as Eddie who is sliding out the door now as well. She sidles up to Steve, letting Holly have her moment with the fairy uninterrupted. “And you must be the prince charming.”

“Shut up, shut up,” Eddie pants, coming to a bent over rest beside Steve, “whatever she’s saying ignore it. Fuck.”

“You jogged like twenty feet,” the girl says, clearly unimpressed.

“Sorry Nancy Reagan, I say yes every time.”

“There are children present, have some class, Munson.”

The child in question could be on another planet, that’s how much she’s aware of their existence, Steve thinks.

“I have class every Monday, Wednesday, Friday; Saturdays are fair game.”

“Oh! That’s why you look so familiar,” the girl says, she’s looking at Steve now but he’s not really sure why. “We were in the same Communications and Public Speaking class, Prince Charming. Steve, right?”

He did have that class last semester, the only one technically tied to the business major his dad wanted him to have that he actually passed. “I, yes- sorry I don’t. I spent most of that class zoned out waiting for my turn to speak.”

“No, yeah, I figured. You sat a row in front of me and always looked shocked when you got called on, then you’d brush your bagel crumbs all over the floor when you’d go to speak.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, not really sure what to say to that especially not when it’s being said right in front of a guy he was kind of into.

“Birdie holds the strangest grudges in the history of the world, take it as a sign of respect, Big Boy. She hated me for half of our music theory class because my handwriting didn’t look like it matched my general demeanor.”

“No, I hated you because you always smell like weed and never do the homework but somehow are still the professor’s favorite. And I still hate you for all of those things, but your unfortunate personality grew like mold on my girl- I mean grew on,” her face takes on a look of panic as she pivots her word choice. It’s confusing, at first, until he realizes he’s the source of panic. A familiar joke made with a friend, forgetting the new, possibly untrustworthy stranger until too late.

The siren song of new friends and a possible date is alluring, but with Holly in the room he does have to be careful of what gets back to her parents. He remembers Ted’s political alignments and gossip tends to reach his parents faster than he can. So he does his best at assurance, “Chrissy, right, she seems cool. It was nice of you guys to do this, Holly is probably only a little bit more into fairies than I am.”

Eddie sputters beside him, hard to tell if it’s a good sign or if Steve has just royally fucked up his chances at anything; but if it means easing Robin’s fears of queerbashing he’ll ruin his chance for a date every time.

“Into fairies,” Robin asks, nodding over to Chrissy, who’s showing Holly how she balances on the tips of her toes, “or…”

“I’m light in my loafers, or half, light in one-”

“Ex-girlfriend,” Eddie supplies.

“Right.”

“Worst way anyone has ever described being bisexual,” Robin says. 

“Sounds like a challenge,” Eddie says.

“It was not.”

“I really appreciate this,” Steve says again to avoid the argument. Chrissy is helping Holly spin around on the toes of her patent leather mary janes, she’s giggling as Chrissy holds her pointed finger helping her twirl and twirl. “How’d you all get involved in all this? You’re still in school.”

“They always need a little help around the holidays, normally the theater kids get first dibs but there’s only like five tech kids and they’re all working the school show so the music department gets next go.” Robin explains.

“Chis is a prodigy so she put in a word for us specifically,” Eddie adds. Before he leers and leans deep into Steve’s space, it’s not an unwelcome move. “Unless that was you fishing for friends, Big Boy. Trying to figure out if you’ll see us on campus?”

“Oh,” Robin exclaims, like the thought had never occurred to her. “Are you finished with your gen eds? Wait, what's your major? Eddie, show off your party trick.”

He isn’t a total loser, so he doesn’t fidget or blush as Eddie runs his heady brown eyes up and down the length of him, taking him in. “Business and Marketing,” he declares after a second, but he doesn’t sound sold on it.

“I’ve been thinking about changing it,” Steve isn’t sure if he’s admitting Eddie’s right or just trying out what it sounds like to admit that he’s sick of being everything he’s supposed to be instead of what he likes. “I took Children’s Psychology for the whatever requirement and it was a million times more interesting than Intro to Econ.”

It feels like it’s going well. When Nancy broke things off Steve had resigned himself to finishing out college without any real friends, dating around and hoping for something that stuck. Here with these people, he can feel something starting. He wants to take that feeling and capitalize on it, follow through on something so another good thing doesn’t slip away from him.

That’s not the kind of luck that he has though. 

“Steve,” Holly buzzes, grabbing his hand with no hesitation, “Fairy Chrissy said that I can be a dancer too! Can Santa bring me shoes like hers?”

Christmas is a week away, if Stever were guessing, he’d say the Wheelers have had Holly’s presents picked out and put away for most of the month. “I don’t know, Hols, Christmas is pretty close and the North Pole is pretty far. Do you think the mailman would have time to get all the way up there?”

Her shoulders slump, making Steve immediately feel like the worst person in the universe for crushing her dreams. “He's watching though, so I bet he saw you ask right now,” he does his best to smile, hoping it's comforting since it feels tight-lipped and desperate.

“Yeah!” She brightens, starts to hum along to the song just a little off pitch, getting more excited as she goes until she's murmuring, “Knows if you've been bad or good.”

“Hey Holly Jolly, why don't you tell Fairy Chrissy bye and thank you. We don't wanna be late to meet your mom.”

She's still singing but she nods, turning and shuffling back to Chrissy, still a few steps away.

“Would she know where to get those, Chrissy, the shoes that Holly would need?” He asks Eddie and Robin in a whisper, hoping Holly is distracted enough by her goodbyes that she won't hear.

“Are you..?” Eddie asks, a blush staining the tops of his exposed ears. “Ex-girlfriend?” 

The emphasis catches his attention and, yeah, he can see how that looks. “Her parents aren't going to drive up to the city before Christmas, but the town over does lessons.” Barriers to entry, that's what his marketing classes called it, maybe he did learn something. He wants to make it as easy as possible for Holly to get what she wants. “She's a good kid, she should get what she wants for Christmas.”

That blush spreads, bleeding down from his ears across his cheeks. “You're a good dude.”

“Steve, I said bye. Do we have to leave now?” Holly asks.

“Let me say bye too, Hols, and we'll grab a treat before we meet your Mom.”

There's a pen tucked behind Robin's ear that he snags before he can second guess what he's about to do. Grabbing her arm first, he scrawls his number across it. “I've got a place off campus, no roommates if you ever want someplace to hangout or to study,” he tells her. 

He grabs Eddie's hand next, rubbing his thumb along the palm and slowly writing the same number on his arm too. Keeping a hold of his hand for as long as he can. “I've got a place off campus, no roommates, if you ever want to come by and do something, have dinner?” He'll start there, let his interest be noted, and hope that Eddie is the type to like guys who dive in head first heedless of the water below. 

Steve can already imagine a future where he's sneaking into the booth with Eddie. Watching shows he's never heard of before with a warm commentary murmured into his ear. Gossip and behind the scenes rumor, distracting him from a plot that's less important than the company. Maybe next year, after double dates and a growing closeness, he'll be able to sneak Holly backstage and she can meet other dancers too.

Maybe next year, he'll be convincing Eddie, and the girls he hopes will be his new friends, to drive down to Hawkins with him to watch Holly do jumps and spins of her own in their small town showcase. Eddie was good with Holly, Steve hopes it isn't a fluke, he's always wanted kids.

He's probably getting ahead of himself. Falling into the same trap he'd built with Nancy that had gotten him here in the first place. The romantic in him wants to spin this all as fate, it could be true after all. 

Steve takes Holly's hand, they both wave goodbye, and leave the empty arts center. The winter sky is lit up by a full moon, fat snowflakes slowly float down to the ground beside them as they head back to his car, and for the first time since Nancy broke up with him he feels good about the future.

It's a long drive back to the McDonalds where he's meeting Karen, with Holly already dozing in the back seat, it's time that he can sit and be happy. Regardless of whether there's a message blinking on his machine to welcome him back home or not; what was supposed to be a relationship compromise ended up being the most fun he's had in weeks. So maybe Chrissy will tell him where to get Holly's shoes, maybe Robin will invite him for coffee or swing by to compare classes, and -- if he's really lucky -- maybe Eddie will invite himself over for dinner.

But, as he hums along to the waltz whose melody lingers in the back of his mind, the possibilities are something to look forward to.

[cloudygreece]

With the time we have left together

Pairings| mute!Fem!readerxpostwar!Giyuu

READING TYPE| ANGST~some fluff (no happy ending) POV: 3rd person Fem!reader

SYNOPSIS| You finally get the life that you had always deserved. Unfortunately it will only last for 4 years. The mark of thr slayer slowly draining the life from your soul and body as you draw nearer to your impending doom, however you get to spend what little time you have left with the people you love.

CW! Themes of pregnancy, childbirth and death are present in this writing! (Its also pretty cringy, I wrote this at 2am)

A/N: just to clarify, y/n became mute due to an injury that was inflicted on her during the fight with muzan, one of her two vocal strips were severely damaged causing her to lose her ability to speak. Yes she did learn sign language after healing. (Italicized texts means y/n is signing) Y/N was a Hashira, there are also mentions of a Tsuguko (an apprentice of a Hashira) she will be present throughout the whole story (please give them a name if you haven't made one. You can use mine if u can't figure one out :D ~ Hanami Ito <3). Giyuu is a bit older than you! However the time of death due to the slayer mark never specified how long after turning 25 until they die.

Word count 1.5k

Key

(Y/n)-Your name

(T/n)-Tsuguko name

(B/s)-Breathing Style

⋆｡°·☁︎Hope you enjoy☁︎·°｡⋆

It was unfortunate. Her romance with her one true love started off so much later than she expected. By the time they were married, they both had only a year or two left; that was the price of the mark. The mark that both of them used to defeat the demon lord four years ago...

Two months have passed... ...and the former (B/s) Hashira is still healing. However, with her vocal cords and her breathing being weak, she could never explore the world outside of Japan. All she could do was stay at her shared home with her former Tsuguko (T/n) and Giyuu Tomioka, the former water Hashira that she once fought the demon lord head-to-head with. 

It was difficult at first for all of them. None of them were able to communicate with (Y/n) about her thoughts, wants, and needs. Any noise she could make sounded like gurgled croaks and strained whispers, too soft or incoherent for anyone to understand. She had to learn sign language, and so did the others if they wanted to know what she was saying. Tirelessly, they all learned together; it was a good thing she didn't lose her hearing as well. Tomioka, with only one hand, felt relieved that (Y/n) didn't get injured even more. As time grew on, they became fluent in sign language, being able to interpret her words to others through the flow and movement of her hands. 

Five months passed after the war ended... ...(Y/n), with nothing else to do, started to take an interest in baking. She would always find herself giving the sweets that she made to the last remaining slayers, who were finishing up their final recoveries. The three of them realized that the former (B/s) Hashira had a talent for cooking and baking.

With the money she and the other two had saved, they all opened up a bakery. They produce delicious breads and desserts. The trio had to spend countless nights trying to find the perfect recipes for them to sell, even though it caused some sleepless nights. It was the perfect life compared to what they endured in the earlier years of their lives for the two who formed the mark. As time grew on, their bonds grew ever closer, making it seem as if they were a family. However, the two slayers who formed the mark were becoming a bit fonder of each other. 

1 year and 8 months had passed after the war had ended...  ...when (T/n) noticed that the two started to catch feelings for one another. (T/n) would find ways to excuse themselves from the presence of their master and her unrequited lover, always leaving them alone as they held somewhat silent conversations with each other about the most mundane things.

2 years and 6 months had passed after the war had ended... ...and they finally tied the knot.

"Finally! Took you guys long enough! When's the wedding?"

(Y/n)'s hands flew around excitedly as she signed

"Oh, probably in 5 months! We'll make the cake, and we know where we're going to do our wedding and who we're inviting. We just need to figure out the flowers, catering, and our attire."

(T/n) has never seen their master this happy before. They could almost hear the excitement bubbling from her throat as she tried to speak. The burn and slash marks on her neck, covered loosely by her scarf, reminded the apprentice of how little time the couple had left. They cast their eyes down to avoid eye contact between the two; they knew it was inevitable, and yet they were able to find love with one another. 

Suddenly Tomiokas voice broke the silence

"(T/n) We both understand your concerns about our health, and we are very aware of how much time we have left. Don't stress yourself out too much."

His tone was very dull, but his eyes weren't. His dark blue eyes showed kindness and reassurance toward the young apprentice. As Giyuu spoke, his one arm wrapped around her (Y/n) side, pulling her body closer to him. They both starred at each other lovingly, before walking over to (T/n) to give them a nice, warm, reassuring hug.

2 years and 11 months had passed since the war had ended... ...The cherry blossoms fell as (Y/n) walked down the pathway towards Tomioka. Her eyes darted across the aisle as she saw those in the corps who she had fought together with to finally bring peace to their homes. All of them were smiling as they watched her with the man she always dreamed of, officially joining together as man and wife. Words (and signs) of joy, affermation, sadness, and hope were given to one another. Finally, they slowly approach each other to signify their unity with a kiss. As flower petals coated the air with a flurry of pinks, blues, and whites, everyone cheered as the pair finally had one another.

3 years and 6 months had passed since the war had ended... ...The couple both started to show signs of weakening. (Y/n) began to cough and wheeze if she did too much work, while Giyuu became much more lethargic and weaker. However, the small family was blessed, with another member soon joining them. 

"(T/n), I'm pregnant!"

(T/n)'s jaws hung low in shock as they dropped the pan full of freshly baked bread. (Y/n) quickly scampered towards her to help pick up the food. She signed slowly as she tried to calm her apprentice down.

"I haven't told Giyuu yet. Let's surprise him!"

The woman's face brightened the whole room as the two of them baked a small cake with the Kanji saying 'omedetou'. After closing down the shop, (T/n) called over Giyuu as the two showed him the cake.

"Huh? Why are you guys saying congratulations? Who are we Congratulating..??"

He looked at the cake bewildered, before he slowly looked up at (Y/n).

"Are you.."

She nodded eagerly before she was swooped up by her husband. Even with one arm and his strength weakening, he was still able to pick her up so easily. Happy giggles erupted from the mute woman. It was hoarse, but...she hasn't laughed in such a long time. It still sounded like how it used to. The sight of hearing her laugh after 3 years couldn't help but draw out tears in (T/n) and Giyuu. After a few minutes, everyone was bawling their eyes out. 

I wish this happiness could last forever..

It's been 4 years and 3 month since the war ended..

A hoarse wail could be heard from the couple's room. (T/n) rushed ahead of Giyuu, who was struggling to walk in the direction of the cries of his wife. As they entered the room, (T/n) could see (Y/n) clutching the sheets of her bed, her knuckles turning white, and her hair disheveled as strands fell from her loose ponytail. The midwife next to her was coaching her through every step, calling over (T/n) to bring the towels that they had brought. Fear clouds the apprentice's eyes as they see their mentor's head fall back onto her pillow, her breathing shallow as she looks at her apprentice with tearful eyes. Her mouth slowly opened through hastened breaths.

"Today's.. my....birthday...."

She croaked out. Suddenly, Giyuu weakly enters the room. His footsteps were heavy as his knees fell onto the tatami mats next to his wife's mattress. Her hands fiercely wrap around his as she screams, pushing one final time before a small cry could be heard from around the room. 

(T/n) just stood there. The realization hits them as they watch the baby being treated by one of the midwives. 'birthday..? Well, then that means she's...'

Their gaze reverts back to their mentor's body, her breath becoming more labored as the light in her eyes slowly starts to fade. Her hands gingerly passed by Giyuu's cheek as she smiled at him weakly. She mouthed something; (T/n) couldn't quite see it from where they were standing; in fact, they couldn't move at all; all they could do was watch as (Y/n) passed. Giyuu, now realizing what's happening, called one of the midwives frantically as they tried their best to resuscitate her. 

'She turns 25 today..'

(T/n) already knew it was useless.

It's been 3 months.

There (T/n) stands in the rain, a baby strapped tightly against their body with a white cloth. The soft snore coming from the child brought warmth throughout their whole body as they stood in front of two graves.

A soft voice could be heard from behind.

"I'm sure Giyuu-san and (y/n)-san would be happy to see you taking care of their child."

Four other people slowly approached the apprentice and the baby. Tears streak down their faces as they place flowers on the graves. (T/n) sniffled and nodded as they turned towards them, their own eyes full of sadness as they watched the last remaining bloodline of the two former Hashira's being swaddled in the former tsuguko's arms.

"Thank you Tanjirou. I'm sure they both enjoyed what time they had left. Together."

Closing notes~ this kinda cringy :)

⋆｡°·☁︎requests are open☁︎·°｡⋆ ~Sincerely, Greece

[linkemon]

Maid/Butler headcanons 1

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.

Hiring a good maid or butler for a mansion is not easy. Especially when a loyal and helping hand is needed. Some workers can be really interesting people...

Arataki Itto

✧ Itto usually says more than he does. There are moments when you genuinely want to strangle him for it. Guests are almost at the door and he's not in the lobby to greet them yet? Standard...

✧ Often brags about being able to do things that he actually cannot do or that other employees have to correct after him. However, this does not change the fact that he has a heart of gold. You've already gotten into trouble once because when one of the guests spread bad rumors about you, he didn't fail to point it out (he almost beat him up but we're not talking about that...). Demands were made to fire him but you knew he meant well and you didn't.

✧ If someone needs to get rid of bugs, he's the perfect guy. Apparently, he collects them and arranges fights between them with bets among the other employees. You don't care much as long as the bugs are out of sight.

✧ He is perfect for escorts. You are definitely not in danger with him. Even its appearance deters pickpockets or bandits when you walk outside the residence.

✧ Need to chop wood? No problem. He doesn't mind that it's outside of his responsibilities. Sometimes you can see quite nice views from the window...

Clorinde

✧ She is a woman who knows and values etiquette and honor. She is extremely loyal to you. You can be sure that once you hire her, no amount of money will bribe her to leave her position. Your opponents have no chances because no gossip will leave the mansion.

✧ Clorinde carries a weapon close to her and no one can stop her, although many criticize that it is not fitting. She puts it nearby when she works so as not to scare others. However, it must be a place where she can reach it quickly. Sometimes you feel like she's more your guardian than your maid.

✧ She once defended you during an assault while you were riding in a carriage. You always thought she only carried a sword. To your surprise, it turned out that she also has firearms, and she definitely knows how to use them. You owe her your life.

✧ Past attacks are no excuse for lack of good manners. Your collar better be in perfect condition, or she'll come to check it out...

Layla

✧ Overslept on her shift again? Standard. It got to the point where the other maids let Layla know to come in earlier than she really should, otherwise she's never on time. Of course you figured it out anyway but everyone pretends everything is fine.

✧ The girl is really trying. Which results in some very odd moments of brilliant flashes that keep her working at the mansion. Sometimes you feel like there are two Laylas inside. One of them sleeps while the other invents a star-inspired ball that has become the best of the season. For a long time, guests reminisced about the twinkling drapes, the constellation-shaped cakes, and seeing the constellations together through the telescopes she made herself.

✧ She has no trouble falling asleep but you can be sure that she will solve all your sleep related worries. Warm milk, a comfortable pillow or a story about her favorite stars. She'll fall asleep faster than you but I'm sure she'll be able to help you.

✧ She is educated enough to help you with the paperwork for managing the residence. She's doing really well at that field.

Kamisato Ayaka

✧ The girl is an example of complex help in the mansion. Or at least that's what many who don't know her inner dilemmas think. Ayaka tries to be perfect which pays with great fatigue. She often has the impression that everyone is looking at her hands and waiting for a slip, which she does not intend to allow.

✧ For a while she refused to be friends with you. It is rare for maids to be so close to their employer. But over time, she got used to the idea and enjoy it. Especially that her perfection makes it difficult to make close acquaintances among co-workers. She is ready to listen to your problems and advise you as much as possible.

✧ Perfectly understands politics in salons and words slipped between the lines.She is able to catch what even you yourself sometimes did not heard. She will advise you on whom to turn to and how you can convince others to your point. Thanks to this, the residence gains many business partners and new clients.

✧ She has many talents. Traditional tea brewing or the art of dancing with fans are just some of them. If things don't go your way and you need to distract your guests from the mishap, she certainly won't disappoint.

[daddydoddsjr]

Mafia!Sonny AU

Pairing || Mafia!Sonny Carisi x Female!Reader

Contents/Warnings || Mentions of assault, mentions mafia business, stalking, obsessiveness

Part 1/?

Authors Note || i hinted i was going to do this a while back and simply forgot.. but here’s a little taste. this fic currently is nameless cause idk what to name it :’) i’ll figure it out eventually. also didn’t proofread lol

Tag List || @teddybluesclues

“Piece of shit,” Sonny mumbled to himself as he left the apartment with two other men, just having watched them nearly beat the life out of the man who lived there. The very stupid man who thought he could get away with not paying back the 5 grand he owed to the Carisi family. Sonny had been in charge of things for a while now since his father was getting older, and so far everything had been running smoothly, just with the occasional pester from his mother to get married and start having children, to carry on the family name.

Sonny’s mind was elsewhere as he walked down the hall to the elevator, waiting for its arrival, acting normal. The doors opened and revealed you, standing there quietly. You gave Sonny a small smile and moved to the side so they could come in; you were all going down to the lobby from the two top floors. Jesus christ, he thought you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. He made a point to stand beside you and let his men stand on the other side of them. They talked quietly about something while Sonny snuck glances at you— taking in every detail. Your hair colour, the way you held yourself, the type of clothes you were wearing, every detail.

He let you off first and waited until you were out of the building to tell one of his men, “Follow her for the day. I want to know everything.” His man, Nick, knew better than to argue with his boss and silently headed after you. You were oblivious to him the entire day as you had lunch with a few friends and went shopping before going back to your apartment. He reported back to Sonny the details; the first names of who you were with, your first name, what you ordered, what you bought, etc. Sonny was enamoured. This wasn’t the first time, though. He had a bit of a habit for seeing a pretty woman and following them for a bit, sneaking his way into their lives if he really wanted to. They never went too far, though, every time he found a new woman, something went wrong. She would freak out once she found out about the family business, or they were only in it for the money, they were too entitled, etc, etc, etc. You were his new interest now, whether you liked it or not.

It started off slow. At first, you saw him at your usual coffee shop. You remembered him from the apartment building and assumed he lived there or was visiting someone, so you didn’t think much about him being at the coffee shop so close to the building. You saw him a few days later near your work as you were leaving. You owned an antique shop and you had people that worked there for you, but you stopped by once a week to check up on things. He was just walking by, nonchalantly. The second time you saw him at the coffee shop, he struck up a conversation with you while you both waited on your coffees, saying how he remembers seeing you in the elevator and how it must be a coincidence that you ran into each other again.

You had to admit to yourself that he was attractive; his greying dirty blonde hair that was so neatly done, the piercing blue eyes that looked at you so intently, his 6 foot lanky frame, the way he called you doll in that accent of his. You ran into him a couple more times before he finally asked you on a date, saying something about it being too coincidental that you both liked so many of the same places and clearly the universe was trying to say something. Cliche, but you fell for it easily, since you already liked him. He was weaselling his way right into your world and it was working just as he wanted.

[yesterdaysnewts]

so i just finished the first season of house md and let me say

your attachment to wilson is understandable, that man has the biggest brownest eyes ive ever seen

house on the other hand has the scariest blue eyes known to man pls buy her brown contact lenses

i actually like cameron x house i would potentially like to see more of that she is a very nice contrast to house and i rlly want to see that dynamic explored even though the season 1 finale did make it pretty clear that hes still in love with stacey

speaking of which im looking forward to seeing how her presence in the hospital shakes things up

im very glad they got rid of vogler or whatever his name was i had vivid hallucinations of punching him in the face repeatedly everytime he was on screen

i want to find out what the deal with foreman is. he has matching shows with house. he hates homeless people. he committed a crime at 16. he broke into a patients house to figure out how to comfort her while she died. literally who is this man i need to knowwwww

that brings me to chase. i cant figure him out either, first hes a brown nose to house, then hes snitching on him every chance he gets, he doesnt need to money but he wants his job, he is somehow to coolest person in this show and the lamest, he wears a leather jecket and looks like he belongs in a pantene commerical. hes my favourite

also i want it to be actually brought up that house plays piano? like in the first season there are 4 seperate times he plays piano (tho he only mimes playing it one time so technically only three)

GOD this show i cant believe i didnt watch it sooner

wilson really does have the most wettest biggest brownest eyes i have ever seen and it makes him so scrunkly i need to put him in a bag and bash that bag into a brick wall

and yea houses eyes are fucking terrifying and the worse thing is that someone on a discord server once edited him to have brown eyes and somehow it was scarier

also you are like the first person ive seen express a like for cameron x house so honestly god speed for that but you do bring up some banging fucking points

live laugh love stacey that is really all i have to say to that her and house have such a good juicy relationship

fun fact vogler only exists because fox wanted someone to like oppose house and that so the writers threw him in and in process made chase a dickhead (still bbg tho)

also FOREMAN, god i love him so much like mans presents himself as like 'oh smart doctor, id want this man to be my doctor' but then as the show progresses you just end up looking at him like 'what happened here'. in s3 you do properly start to see how he parallels house and it is scrumptious top tier telly and, like chase, he is a fucking dickhead. and the car thing as well cos like he goes on about how he pulled himself out of that but then you watch and he clings to normalcy and making something of himself its brilliant

and the shit himself chase. i find it so fucking funny how his first name is robert like he does not fucking look like a robert. and his relationship with house like fucking hell, you can tell chase is desperately trying to separate himself from his actual dad and by doing that he clung onto his work and especially house in an attempt to do that.

also 'he wears a leather jacket and looks like he belongs in a pantene commercial. he is my favourite' speaks for itself cause yeag.

unfortunately i don't actually think its bought up that house can play piano later on but you do get to see him play other instruments which is fun cause hugh laurie is a really good musician and im so happy they gave house interests outside of just medicine

happy watching the show is gonna make you go just a bit insane

[assistant-of-drama]

Assistant Noah's World Tour!

After Newfoundland...

Noah listens as he hears Alejandro angrily rant in spanish, while brushing his teeth.

The sarcastic assistant is covering his mouth and trying his best not to laugh, as he stood near the confessional door.

Apparently, the charmer doesn't like the sock flavored chowder that Heather made for him.

Even though Noah mostly forgives Alejandro for almost leaving Owen behind back in the Amazon, he may have been the reason Heather had gotten Owen's socks in the first place.

Alejandro opened the door to give Noah the stink eye. Did he already find out what Noah did?

"I'm glad that you find my suffering so hilarious." Alejandro grumbled.

So, he didn't.

Noah shrugs with a chuckle. "Well, you were kinda asking for it, considering that you tricked two guys into kissing fish and stole Heather's possible alliance with DJ."

"What can I say. She had a clever idea and I wanted to steal it for myself. And be honest with me Noah, would you rather kiss a fish or have someone else do it for you?" Alejandro asks smugly with a raised eyebrow.

Noah squints his eyes and purses his lips. "...Touche."

"That's what I thought, amigo." the charmer then winks playfully, wrapping an arm around the assistant and leading him to first class.

Noah leans into Alejandro's touch, the back of his head by the taller man's strong chest, as he asks a curious question. "By the way, how did you have time to paint those eyes on the fish?"

"I'm sure that you're smart enough to figure that out on your own."

"I thought you were supposed to be a gentleman."

"Come now Noah, we both know that I'm not."

As they entered first class to enjoy its comforts, Noah allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts.

Noah wishes he could hate the guy. He wishes he could hate the True Alejandro as much as the Fake Alejandro. He wants to hate that greasy eel. It'd make things so much easier. But the truth was, he didn't hate him at all. The true Alejandro was clever, crafty, cunning, a bit dorky and had a sense of humor that Noah could appreciate. The Fake Alejandro was just a Spanish Prince Charming Wannabe.

Alejandro's brain was even sexier than his body, and that was saying something. It was the thing that drew Noah in, made him want to be near him, even when he knew it was wrong. It was the one thing that made Noah feel like he wasn't the only one with a mind like this. They were two misfits who had found each other in this mess of a competition, and somehow, it worked. It was a strange, twisted sort of bond that they shared, and Noah wasn't sure if he could ever explain it to anyone else.

Although Noah acts like he's not interested, deep down he honestly wants nothing more than to drag Alejandro to the cargo bay and kiss the beautiful, brilliant evil genius all day long. It's the last thing he'd ever admit to, but it's the truth. They could give Bridgette and Geoff a run for their money.

Even though the True Alejandro is interesting and fun, at the end of the day, Alejandro is only here for the money. He doesn't care about Noah or anyone for that matter. Noah has seen with his own eyes and Alejandro himself told the assistant. Nothing and nobody else matters. Only the million dollars matter.

As much as it hurt Noah's little heart, it's the truth and the cynic can accept that.

He accepts it... if only he knew about the conflict in Alejandro's own heart.

[mohavegecko]

Yay thank you for responding to my bandit au ask! Follow up question. Does Nisha surviving change the inter-bandit clan politics at all, especially with the COV trying to get everyone to assimilate? I imagine she wouldn’t play nice, or go down without a fight.

and yes hello I see you on Angel + religious something or other with the bandit clans. If there’s anything more there please elaborate. Angel cults sound interesting as hell, moreso in light of her being alive in this AU. How does she feel about her position as a religious figure?

ty for your ask! another read more situation because this ones even longer than the first. somehow.

nisha surviving does cause some problems in BL2, though because of lynchwoods isolated nature those complications are more to do with the slabs and the crimson raiders than anyone else. the hodunks are also in uncomfortable proximity, living in the dust, and the zafords juusstt out of reach in the highlands. lucky them, because even though nisha is ‘technically’ on the crimson raider’s side for the remainder of their war with hyperion, her opinions on the other bandits clans do not change. there is a sense of lawfulness and control that separates her from them. something that simply makes her Better. her anger with hyperion is all-consuming, which is what helps her integrate so well with the crimson raiders for the brief time they work together. its the only thing that overpowers the general bloodlust she displays when facing the rest of pandora. shes on a warpath because she specifically feels spurned and that is what pushes her out of the BL2’s vault hunters way long enough for her to survive. some assholes shooting up her town and blowing her bank? thats funny. her grievances with handsome jack? thats personal. also worth adding in that wilhelm lives in this AU. orrrr…he lives up until the bunker fight, at least. its always been the dumbest thing in the world to me that he gets killed off so easily in BL2. hes the actual threat he deserves to be in my rewrite. mentioning this because nisha is also there. and nisha absolutely does not go down easy when it comes to the COV, which puts her between a rock and a hard place with them and the crimson raiders. lynchwood had dissolved, as much as she can try and hold onto power within the town, its purpose is gone. lynchwood was only ever made to profit off the eridium underneath it, she admits this herself, and it was gift wrapped to her on her anniversary to ensure the mines had their protector. so hyperion goes down, the mines lose their worth, and lynchwood enters a sort of limbo. she cant keep people in because theres no money coming in from hyperion. lynchwood isnt like other bandit clans, theyre not raiders, they dont go on the offensive for resources, and even if they did, nisha cannot provide for an entire town like a billion dollar corporation can. so people starve and people leave. nisha is furious, of course. she keeps a handful of her riders, those who are actually loyal to her, and she stays in the outskirts of COV territory for her own survival. but she’s not sitting on her hands, she did enough of that already as sheriff of lynchwood. thinking of her active role in BL3…hm. again, id have to play the game to refresh my memory. its been a while! she fights the COV parallel to the crimson raiders, but not necessarily alongside them. i have a few times in my head planned where they butt heads, though. specifically her skag riders chasing after carnivora alongside the crimson raiders. which is just fun to imagine. mad max style. and now angel! my idea isnt completely thought out, but! this starts at the end of BL1, angel heralds the death of baron flynt and commandant steele by leading the vault hunters and because there is that immediate power gap, the bandits who would become the bloodshots try to find anything they can cling onto, and they cling onto her. this unexplainable voice from the radio, watching from above. a very convenient idol to turn to in their time of need!

this is ENTIRELY based off of angels siren telepathy whatever sometimes having closeups of her eyes and the bloodshot clan symbol being eyes btw. thats it thats what kicked this off. if you give me long enough i can make Anything in borderlands circle back to angel she is my everything.

and good question! seeing as how angel is ~13 at the time of BL1, at first she buys into it for a sense of human connection because of how isolated she is. shes a child, she doesnt understand the consequences of indulging these people in their beliefs, because shes too busy indulging herself in playing pretend with these new "friends" of hers. we know that angel has had contact with pandora outside of vault hunters, so why not with the bandit populations? as she gets older that opinion changes. the bloodshots solidify, and they grow, and soon it isnt just a bunch of desperate people that she can play barbies with. and she changes too- with the opening of the vault, eridium floods the planet and it doesnt take very long at all for her to become reliant on it. nothing is “fun” anymore. (nothing was ever really fun, but now she is old enough to understand it. this is also my way of explaining her playful nature in 1 becoming more restrained in 2.)

so she disconnects. this happens maybe a year or so pre-BL2, so she’d be around 17. the bloodshots lose their idol, their god has gone silent, and theyre facing blow after blow from a war on three different sides. so they turn to someone else. enter marcus! professional war profiteer. he floods the bloodshots with guns, gives them a fighting chance, and angel becomes a memory as they refocus on the war. when they get their hands on roland and try to ransom him off, angel tries to intervene, but now that they have been promised something tangible, they reject her.

and then the fight at the dam happens, the bloodshots are swarmed by vault hunters and hyperion alike, and they lose a good portion of their number. angels first reaction is surprisingly apathetic, which immediately disgusts her. these are people she has known for years now who have been mowed down by her friends and her father’s death machines. people she, at some point, felt a strong sense of responsibility for. to at first feel nothing for their deaths shocks her and (in her mind) puts her too close to her father for comfort. its another crack in the wall of angel’s rebellion, she is terrified of the apathy and potential hatred she could foster for these people, and she wants to rip it out before it takes root.

her contact with the bloodshots has been lost, though, and its not long after 2 that their population starts to wane. angel post-BL2 is set on trying to help everyone on pandora, including the bandit clans, but she is just one person, one teenager at that, and her hold on the planet feels so small now that shes no longer connected to the control core.

so, for a year maybe, or however long it takes from the end of 2 to helios falling in tales, she feels very stuck. she’s sick, still not fully recovering from her eridium addiction, and her world has gone from being trapped in the control core with satellite access to the entire world to living in sanctuary and being unable to help in a way that she truly wants to.

and then helios does fall, and she finds a way. but thats not really bloodshot focused and this post is long enough as it is so. If youd like to hear more about that i can explain! just not on this post omg

[twistedminutia]

Hello! You mentioned it being the one year anniversary for your fic soon — in light of the most recent chapter I think it would be very interesting to know what the teachers thought of Gray

All right, so I said try to limit it to one character per ask, but this one was sent before I officially posted the rules, so I'll do all the teachers, but keep the answers short for each one. Also, I wasn't sure if you wanted Crowley included in there, so I'll throw him in as a freebie.

Crowley:

"The prefect, hm? An unusual human, to be sure. The Dark Mirror has never erred in its time of serving the school, but to summon a student without magic... well, I just can't seem to figure out the reasoning! Adding to that the idea that she's from another world entirely, something that shouldn't be possible... Of course, I am looking into it! But answers have been rather difficult to find. Regardless, she's a fine enough student and quite willing to assist me when needed, so I have few complaints! Though I do think she could try to curb the appetite of her beast. I'm not made of money, you know!"

Trein:

"Gray is a fine student. Attentive in class, completes homework on time, and seems eager to learn. I admit, I was quite surprised by her seeming dedication to her studies contrasted with her lack of knowledge. I recall she scored quite dismally on her first exam here. She was quite distraught over it. Even when she began attending office hours and taking some private tutelage from me, she was still struggling. Of course, it all makes sense now, knowing she's not from this world. Poor girl. I don't think Crowley is taking her situation seriously enough. I've asked her to reach out, but she doesn't seem eager to do so. I'm not convinced staying here is the best thing for her, but if Crowley truly is looking into a way to return her home, perhaps it is best she stays here for now. Not to mention, she has a cat of her own. I think Lucius likes the company when Gray brings her around."

Crewel:

"That pup needs less discipline than her companions, but she also needs some serious assertiveness training! A pup too frightened to bite back is almost as bad as one who bites too much. In this kennel, the runts will get crushed if they don't stand up for themselves. As frustrating as that mangy mutt she spends most of her time with is, at least he knows how to snap back. She remains utterly reluctant to do so. Of course, Crowley hasn't been helping. I'm not sure he knows what he's doing. Despite her lack of magic, Gray is focused in class, which is more than I can say for her companions. Though she still can't keep Grim on a short enough leash to prevent a disaster every other week..."

Vargas:

"The girl? Needs training! Maybe she can't fly a broom like the rest of the guys here, but she can run laps, do pushups, and get herself some MUSCLE! Looks like a twig that's about to blow over and gets winded after one lap of the field. Not having magic is all the MORE reason to make sure she's got bulk enough to protect herself. I'll come up with a training regimen that'll whip her into shape and help her build STRENGTH."

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

Steddie Flower Shop / Tattoo Parlor AU

Alright, buckle up! The angst is over. I hope y’all like the getting together part. Two more parts and then the main plot of this AU is done.

Part One I Part Two I Part Three I Part Four I Part Five I Part Six I Part Seven I Also on AO3!

***

Eddie woke up early and made coffee that could probably raise the dead. His sleep was fitful and he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he’d fucked up. Of course it was also the day before Valentine’s Day so Eddie truly had an order list a mile long. He pulled his hair up into a bun and got to work on the bouquets that he could bust out without thinking. His mind wandered the whole time trying to figure out what to do about Steve. When Eddie had put together the last dozen red rose-baby’s breath-greenery combination and drained the remaining dregs of the coffee pot, he had at least decided on a course of action. Steve hadn’t picked up his bouquet the day before and it was still sitting on the edge of the workbench in one of the buckets of water.  If Eddie was honest with himself; he had kind of phoned it. He really hadn’t been sure if Steve was going to show up and he didn’t have time to waste the week of Valentine’s. He picked up the bouquet and started working to add dimension and interest. He pulled in purple hyacinth, helenium, and broom. He wove in ivy to fill out the sides of the bouquet and fiddled with the flowers until he was happy with the final product. Eddie wrapped the arrangement in butcher paper, checked the time, and decided it was as good a time as ever to head over to Steve’s.

“Steve?” Eddie asked nervously once he made it across the street. No one answered him for a minute but he heard some hushed whispering in the back. He shifted his weight between his feet and rocked from his heels to his toes until Robin slammed open the back door.

“You better be here to apologize and you better do it quick because Steve is in no mood.” Robin said as she walked past Eddie. 

Eddie had never thought Robin was particularly intimidating until this exact moment. He had the urge to turn tail and run but Chrissy would be back at the shop by now and would never let him live it down if he came back holding this frankly ridiculous amount of flowers. Eddie walked to the back room where Robin had left Steve. Eddie had never been in there before. It was mostly a storage room with a small table and chairs that Eddie imagined Robin and Steve used for breaks and when they didn’t want to be out in the front of the tattoo studio. It’s just as homey as the rest of the shop with its mismatched furniture and plants. Steve had hung several bunches of flowers upside down from the ceiling to add to the garden witch vibes the whole shop had.

“Hi,” Eddie said, self-consciously pushing the flowers out for Steve to take. Steve looked at him for a minute. His eyes were red-rimmed and he had dark circles Eddie had never seen before. “Uhm, these are for you. I, er, missed you coming by yesterday.” Eddie finished weakly.

“I didn’t, figured you were probably busy, or whatever,” Steve answered.

“Oh, yeah it’s been a lot this week. But I always want to see you,” Eddie admitted.

“What?”

“I, uhm, maybe I should back up. I’m sorry I ran out the other day. I didn’t have the most stable upbringing and some of what you were saying made me nervous that you looked down on me for not having money, I guess. Which I totally should have explained and not just like shut down and run away. But like, I never had enough to afford a, err, ‘actual’ tattoo. And I know that I totally fucked up and you can tell me to turn around and never come back but I think you’re really special, and that drawing you did kind of took my breath away, dude.”

“Dude,” Steve smirked.

“Sorry, I don’t do this often or like ever, I kind of don’t know what to do with you honestly. I’ve never– that is to say, I’m definitely not good enough for you, man.”

“Man? I think that might be worse.” Steve laughed a little.

“I’m ruining this. I’ll just, uh, go. Sorry, again.” Eddie left the bouquet he was still holding on the table and starts to head out, rubbing the back of his neck a little nervously.

“No, Eds, come back,” Steve said. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“What’d you mean it like, Steve?”

“Oh, well, I don’t think you can call your Valentine ‘man,’ Eddie.”

“My what?”

“Oh, sorry you haven’t asked yet. I’ll wait.” Steve grinned.

Eddie could have passed out. He was pretty sure that Steve was going to tell him to leave, not patiently wait for Eddie to get his shit together and ask him out.

“Right, yes, I’m getting to that.” Eddie smiled back. He looked back up at the ceiling and realized all the bunches of flowers were the arrangements he’d given Steve. “Wait, you kept these?” Eddie gestured at the bouquets.

“Of course, I did, Eddie.” Steve answered. “I mean, I had sort of meant to only keep the first one. To celebrate opening. But then Robin noticed the green carnations in the next bouquet and said that was like a sign you might, uhm, like guys, or whatever, so I kept that one, and I dunno, it just kind of became a thing.” Steve was blushing and looked down at his hands.

“Oh, baby, that’s so cute, fuck.” Eddie went to sit next to Steve and placed his hand face up on the table for Steve to take. Steve reached out and linked his fingers with Eddie’s. If Eddie had thought he was going to pass out earlier, he was certain he was experiencing cardiac arrest now. His heart was pounding in his throat and he was sure his hands were clammy and gross. “You won’t be able to keep this up, you know?”

“Why’s that,” Steve asked.

“There’s nowhere near enough room to save all the bouquets I plan on giving you, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh big time. Now that I have this? I’m not letting go,” Eddie gestured to their linked hands. “Not until you want me too.”

“Oh,” Steve gasped. “For the record, I do think maybe I was a little too harsh on you. I’m pretty used to guys like you giving guys like me shit for tattooing flowers.”

“That’d be pretty hypocritical of me, Stevie, as I also work in flowers.” 

“Well you still have this whole, like, look. I probably bring your street cred down at least several notches.”

“I don’t care about that, hun. I live above a flower shop for god’s sake, there’s not a lot of street cred left in these old bones.” Eddie croaked out the last part doing his best imitation of Mr. De Lucas.

“You’re such a shit.” Steve elbowed Eddie in the side.

“You like me though,” Eddie said. “Even worse, you like like me.”

“Questioning that the longer this conversation goes on.” 

“Rude. You wanna know a secret, Steve-o?” Eddie jumped onto the table to get closer to the flowers hanging from the ceiling.

“Hey! Get down. This is dangerous.” Steve couldn’t hide his laugh but he grabbed at Eddie’s belt.

“Hold on! I gotta show you something,” Eddie said. He moved closer to the first set of flowers he ever gave Steve. “Robin was on to something you know. I am not only a florist but I am a huge flower nerd and read all sorts of books about the languages of flowers. So this one was for luck opening your store. Daffodils are for new beginnings, Allium for prosperity, Laurel for success, and Hollyhock for ambition,” Eddie recited as he pointed out each of the flowers.

“But you didn’t even like me back then,” Steve said, a little awe struck.

“I might not have liked you but I did want to fuck you, big boy,” Eddie said with a wink.

“You’re actually the worst. I take everything nice I’ve ever said back.” 

“Never,” Eddie said as he moved on to the second set of flowers he gave to Steve. “So, Robin was basically right about this one. Chrissy gave me so much shit for thinking you were straight but that seemed easier than being rejected. So lavender, green carnations, pansies, buttercups, all historical references to being gay. I figured if you understood what they meant you’d tell me early on if you didn’t like me that way.”

Steve walked around the table to meet Eddie by the third bouquet. He reached back up to hold onto his waist. Eddie was already getting way too used to having Steve’s hands on him.

“Next was my friendship offering and like maybe a little bit of a hint that I was kind of into you. The oak leaf geranium is for true friendship and feverfew is for warmth of affection. But you hadn’t given me shit about the gay flowers so I was also a little hopeful, hence the cyclamen. And the lilacs.”

“What do lilacs mean?” Steve asked.

Eddie flushed bright red. “Uhm, this was way too early and like still is but, uhm, they represent the first feeling of love.”

“So what was the next one for?” 

“Well the victorians believed that the brighter the bouquet the more passionate the underlying relationship so I wanted to give you something bright and happy but it’s also like a ‘I’m very into you please like me back’ vibe?”

“Are you asking me, or telling me, Eddie?”

“Oh, telling, absolutely,” Eddie answered. “Also, Chrissy gave me so much shit about this one because it is probably worth like three times what you paid for.”

“Eddie!” Steve yelled and slapped his thigh.

“Listen. I was going big or going home, Steve. Now will you let me tell you about it?” 

Steve nodded and gestured for Eddie to continue.

“Good boy,” Eddie noticed Steve tense a little at the diminutive. He set that aside to explore later. “Okay so this is a ranunculus and its symbolizes radiant charm. The roses all mean different things based on the color. Orange is for fascination, purple for enchantment, and red, as cheesy as it is, is for love. I also couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make fun of myself so this one,” Eddie points at a gorgeous orange flower, “is for impetuous love, I mean, I was moving way too fast and I didn’t even know if you liked me back, Steve.”

“I don’t offer to tattoo just anybody, Eds.” Steve was blushing again. “So are you gonna ask me, then?” Steve asked as Eddie hopped down from the table.

“Steve Reginald Harrington, will you do me the honor of being my Valentine?” Eddie asked and dipped into a deep bow holding his hand out.

“You’re ridiculous and that is absolutely not my middle name,” Steve answered.

“Not an answer, babe.”

“Of course, you absolute buffoon,” Steve agreed. Eddie took Steve’s hand and kissed the back of it, bringing Steve into a hug.

“Mean. And, uhm, would you mind being my day-after-Valentine’s-Day Valentine? It’s just like super busy at the shop tomorrow and I don’t want us to be interrupted.” Eddie added.

“Oh, you have plans for me?”

“Obviously, big boy,” Eddie answered.

“I accept,” Steve said. “Also, I may or may not have scheduled my week so I can be out tomorrow if you want a delivery van buddy.”

“Do I? Of course, Stevie!” Eddie was very excited about having someone to keep him company driving through all of Chicago tomorrow. Eddie looked at the clock in the back of the room and noticed the time. “Oh fuck it’s so late. Shit. Steve. I actually have to go. I’m so sorry.” Eddie gave Steve a quick peck on the cheek and rushed out of the shop.

“You are actually ridiculous, why do I like you?” Steve called back as Eddie ran across the street.

Eddie flipped Steve off in response. Eddie got back into the flower shop and both Robin and Chrissy were sitting at the workbench.

“Did you fix it?” Robin asked.

“Yes, but no time for details, I have to pack the van and I’m so fucking behind,” Eddie rushed to grab the order slips for the morning deliveries.

“Dude, we packed the van for you,” Chrissy said as she grabbed Eddie by the shoulders. “Calm the fuck down or I’m going to have to drive your god forsaken van.”

“Hey! Not nice! But also, you’re the best, I love you, BYE!!” Eddie yelled as he hightailed it into the van. He caught Steve looking out the window of his studio and flashed him a big grin and blew Steve a kiss. Steve made a big gesture of catching the kiss and sent Eddie back heart hands. Jesus. Eddie was in love with a fucking dork and he had never been happier.

***

Part Nine available here!

I’m still literally overwhelmed with y’all’s support. Thanks for reading!

Also if y’all know shit about flowers I know these are unrealistic to find all at the same time but Eddie has mad hothouse connections and he’s also a little bit magic.

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[libraryledge]

A Part of My Story (A Reimagined Tale Set in the World of Wonka) Chapter 4

I stood at the center of the Galleries Gourmet and observed the scene unfolding before me. In fact, I wasn’t the only one who had taken an interest in the spectacle. A crowd had formed in the shopping square, eagerly watching as the show began. The performance in question: Willy Wonka balancing on an apple box while waving a blue flag.

Like with most things that Willy did, I wasn’t sure what to expect. However, in the short time of knowing him, I learned to trust the process as he always had something magical to both metaphorically and literally pull out of his top hat. The crowd, I noticed, was bubbling with excitement, which peaked my curiosity in what I was about to experience.

Willy stopped waving the flag and stomped down loudly on the apple box to get the crowd’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen of the Galley Gourmet. My name is Willy Wonka! I have an incredible feat to share with you all today. So quiet up and listen down.” He paused for a moment and chuckled, realizing he said it backwards. “Nope! Scratch that. Reverse it. I present to you, the Hoverchoc”

Willy took off his hat to reveal a jar of blue, yellow, and green chocolates. He unscrewed the lid of the jar, and the treats went floating over the heads of the audience, much like the manner that ones he’d shown me earlier had done to me. The audience gasped and applauded at the mesmerizing display of showmanship. 

“Go ahead. Try one, and take your dreams to new heights,” Willy proclaimed. 

I watched as an elderly woman next to me took a bite of one of the Hoverchocs. Much to my amazement, she began to float in the air. The crowd gasped and then, collectively held its breath in anticipation of what would happen next. The woman let out a hearty laugh, and she floated gracefully above the townspeople. Then, she began to do somersaults and flashy tricks, while maintaining the biggest smile on her face.

“Oh! I haven’t felt this young in so many years!” she exclaimed.

“Glorious! My chocolate will make you feel like a kid again!” Willy replied, beaming. “Alright. Who’s next?” he asked, to which the crowd responded with fervent cheers.

As I watched the men, women, and children line up for a chance to try a Hoverchoc, I spotted a man in a plaid yellow suit, round dark rimmed glasses, and a crooked toupée staring down at the scene from the window of the chocolate shop named Prodnose. In fact, the stores labeled Fickelgruber and Slugworth each had a sullen figure watching the action as well. I knew that Willy was aware of their presence, and I really commended his ability to ignore those who doubted him and continue with his act.

Amidst the hullabaloo, Willy made eye contact with me. I gave him an encouraging thumbs up. He tipped his hat off to me playfully as a sign of gratitude. That’s what I was starting to appreciate about Willy. He didn’t seek external validation for his endeavors, but welcomed it with open arms because he understood the value of his work.

We spent the rest of the day in town spreading the word on Wonka chocolate. Whether it was little children or grown adults, one thing was for sure, they loved their sweets. It was something that bonded everyone, as they took delight in Willy’s confectionery delights.

Once the sun began to set, we headed back to Scubbit and Bleacher’s before the chilly night weather kicked in. As we walked along the rickety path back to the washroom, I heard the silver sovereigns that Willy earned through his chocolate business jingling in his coat pocket. 

“How much did you earn today?” I asked him, curious to know the outcome of the day’s work. 

“I’ve got twelve silver sovereigns in my pocket,” he replied, smiling proudly at me. “But what they don't mention is how stressful it is just to make a dozen silver sovereigns last more than a day.” 

I chuckled. “Tell me about it. I need to find a way to make money, so I can afford to eat something other than slop for dinner.” I said, picturing the unappetizing bowl of gray slush, that Mrs. Scubbit informed me yesterday she would be providing “out of the kindness of her heart”.

Willy took one of the sovereigns out of his pocket and tossed it my way. I caught it and gave him a questioning look. 

“Keep it.” he said to me, sincerely.

“Oh no. You worked hard to earn it. I can’t take this.” I replied, shaking my head.

“Nonsense! You were a big help today. Consider this an advance on that bargain we made yesterday. You’re still planning to teach me to read aren’t you?” he asked with a wink.

I nodded and responded, “Of course! Thank you.”

“As for dinner, why don’t we skip straight to dessert? You haven’t had a chance to try my chocolate yet. There’s a new recipe I want to show you, if you’re up for the challenge," Willy said with an eager look.

Once we managed to sneak back into Scubbit and Bleacher’s, Willy and I tiptoed up the stairs into our room. We’ve only been inside for about a minute when there was a knock on the open door. Noodle was standing in the door frame with a small canister in her hand

“Room service,” she said with a small smile. I waved at her, and Willy rubbed his hands together in glee.

“Noodle! You’re just in time to be one of the very first people to try my latest creation,” Willy said as he ushered her inside, looked down the corridor to make sure no one followed her, and closed the door.

“I’m guessing you had a good day in town today?” Noodle asked, noting the excitement in Willy’s voice. Although to be fair, he usually was in high spirits.

“Better than ok! We earned twelve silver sovereigns from selling my Hoverchocs!” he replied, joyfully. I noted how he said we earned as opposed to I earned and couldn’t help smiling to myself. 

“Glad to hear it,” Noodle replied. I noticed the tiredness in her voice, so I figured I’d ask her about her day.

“Have you had a long day at the wash house?” I asked her sympathetically.

“Actually, that's the one place that Scrubbit warned me to avoid, since talking to other people would be a distraction from my chores," she said, creating air quotes with her fingers. "Instead, I spend my days doing every other task she needs done from delivering the laundry to mending Bleacher’s old socks,” Noodle said with a grimace.

“That’s awful. I’m sorry Noodle.” I replied, feeling terrible for the girl’s circumstances.

Noodle nodded at me gratefully. “Actually, I did hear that you made the other tennant’s day a lot better with that wacky contraption of yours, Willy.”

Willy’s eyes widened with delight as he said, “Did Tiddles have fun today?”

“Well, he certainly wasn’t sniffing around in my business, and he sure worked up an appetite, so I’d say so,” Noodle replied with a chuckle.

“Splendid! I knew that a puppy powered washer was a great idea! Speaking of great ideas…” he began. Willy pulled out a small suitcase, and removed the lock. I expected him to pull out clothing from inside, but instead was astonished to see the case slowly expand to reveal a work station filled with bottles of colorful concoctions, jars of quirky ingredients, and oddly shaped tools.

“Everything I’ll ever need is found inside of my travel factory,” Willy announced proudly. He pumped a strong smelling liquid onto his hands in order to sanitize them. Then, he picked up several bottles, added their contents into a small bowl, and mixed them together. He placed the mixture through a spiral pipe and pushed down on a small lever. Finally, just like magic, a small cloud shaped treat landed on the bowl in front of him.

“I call this a Silver Lining! Feeling down or need a pick me up? Eat one of these to feel enlightened!” Willy announced. He gently took my hand and placed one of the sweets onto my palm. Then, he skipped over to Noodle and gave one to her as well.

Still in awe from the magical trick I’d just witnessed, I took a bite of the Silver Lining. My tongue immediately felt a fizzy sensation, and then, a delicious combination of cinnamon and hazelnut filled my mouth. My brain was buzzing with excitement, as if I’d been struck by a bolt of energy. Any of the uncertainty and disappointment that I’d experienced this morning was gone and replaced by inspiration and gladness. 

I turned and saw Willy resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin on his hand with anticipation. 

“Your honest review madam,” Willy said, smiling at me expectantly. 

“Huh.” I said, trying to describe the sudden rush that I felt from the chocolate. 

“Huh is a good sign indeed.” Willy replied eagerly.

I chuckled. “I’m just trying to find the words. Suddenly, I feel inspired and have so many ideas racing through my mind. It feels….” I trailed off,  trying to describe the sensation to him.

“Hopeful,” supplied Noodle, with a big grin on her face. “It makes me feel that things are going to be ok, no matter how complicated they are right now.”

Willy looked as he was about to explode of jubilation. “Oh Noodle! Yes! That is exactly what I want this treat to do. It’s supposed to show you a faint ray of hope beyond despair.”  

He began to skip around the room as he exclaimed “Inspiration! Motivation!”

Noodle giggled. “You’re Silly Willy.” It was wonderful to see her in good spirits.

Willy rumpled her hair. “It’s true-dle, Noodle, but it makes me ecstatic to hear that my invention worked!” 

“It really is quite amazing," I chimed in. “How do you make them?”

Willy smiled. “They’re made of condensed thunderclouds and liquid sunlight,” he replied simply, as if they were things that could be found at the local shop.

“How exactly did you get those ingredients?” I asked, curious to know how he managed to get such unusual items into his creations.

“I just follow the weather patterns.'' he said matter of factly. “Gloomy weather is great for capturing clouds, and good weather is just right for bottling sunlight. For instance, tonight is perfect for gathering new ingredients because a hard rain’s gonna fall,” he said in a sing-song voice as he winked at me. I giggled because it still didn’t explain how he got the ingredients. 

“Well. The treat is certainly doing its job because I am suddenly filled with inspiration.” I said.

“So does this mean you now have the motivation to write some more?” Willy asked innocently, but I could sense his eager undertone. “Last night was so fun!” he said with a dreamy look on his face.

Noodle gave me a confused look as he said that. I blushed and quickly replied, “He’s talking about how I read him part of the story that I’m writing, before we went to sleep.”

“Oh!” she said with a chuckle. 

“It was amazing Noodle! There’s this little boy named Charlie in the story, and he’s just like you. He doesn’t have a lot in life, but is the sweetest kid around.” 

“Sounds awesome. I love to read, and I spend way too much time at the library.” Noodle said, chuckling sheepishly.

“I think people don’t spend enough time at the library.” I told her reassuringly.

Suddenly a nasally voice came ringing from downstairs. “NOODLE! WHERE ARE YOU?!!!” The sound unpleasantly vibrated through the walls, making the young girl cringe.

“Ugh! Scrubbit’s looking for me!” Noodle said, rolling her eyes “I’ve got to go. Thanks for the chocolate Willy. It’s your greatest yet!”

“Thank you! Next time you can try my macaroons!” Willy said with a grin on his face.

“Your what?” Noodle asked in amusement.

“Macaroons. They’re a French delicacy, and mine work wonders in boosting confidence,” Willy said. “I just need to collect some more of the main ingredient.”

“What is it?” Noodle asked curiously.

“Giraffe milk.” Willy said nonchalantly.

“What? How are you going to…? Actually, never mind,” Noodle said, trying to hide a smile. She turned to head out the door, but Willy beat her to it and enveloped her in a bear hug. I watched as she sank affectionately into his embrace.

“Don’t let them get you down, Noodle.” Willy said sincerely to her. Noodle smiled and waved at us as she headed out the door.

“I can’t wait to hear your story. I’m sure it’s wonderful,” she said to me. 

I smiled. “Thank you. Good luck,” I said as she headed down to Mrs. Scrubbit, who was obnoxiously calling out to her once more.

When Noodle was out of the room, I turned and looked at Willy in amusement as I said, “Giraffe milk macaroons? Do I want to know how you plan to get your main ingredient?”

“To be honest, I don’t know how I plan to get giraffe milk in England. It was much easier to do on my trip to Africa. By my understanding, giraffes don’t roam the streets of London,” Willy replied.

“Huh.” I said as I suddenly recalled a sign I’d seen while we were in town.

“What is it?” Willy asked curiously.

“I’m not sure,” I started to say, and then it hit me. “Huh!” I exclaimed, feeling all the fog from my brain dissipate as an idea came clearly into view. 

“A double-huh!” Willy said as his eyes widened in anticipation. “You’re experiencing the full effect of the Silver Lining! What are you thinking?”

“Well, there’s a zoo around here right?” I asked him, and he nodded gleefully. “I saw a sign in town saying that they have a new giraffe named Abigail. We could start there, but I just don’t know how we are going to convince her to give you some milk.”

“That’s a marvelous idea! Leave the convincing up to me,” Willy replied. I could see the gears shifting in his mind. He didn’t need a Silver Lining to come up with the most unexpected plans. Willy studied me and then asked, “Are you free tomorrow night?” 

I chuckled to myself. Men had asked me that question a few times in my life, but it never involved plans to milk a giraffe. "That depends. Will I be able to try more of the Silver Linings?”

“Oh! You can have more than that! I promised you a lifetime supply of chocolate, remember?” Willy said eagerly. “Something tells me that you and I will make great partners in crime, which will come in handy when avoiding the Chief of Police. He doesn’t really like me either!”

I laughed. “Why?”

“The Chocolate Cartel instructed him to be on my trail. I guess I’ve developed a reputation for myself,” he said shrugging playfully. “Anyway, can you read to me again tonight?”

“Of course. Actually, there are a few ideas that I’d like to add into the story first if you don’t mind.” I replied.

Willy clapped his hands excitedly and pumped his fist in the air, like an excited child.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, scurrying off to clean up his chocolate making station and get ready for bed

I sat by the window, with the moonlight illuminating my notepad and jotted down my new ideas. They were swirling in my mind, and I felt enlightened in a way that I hadn’t in a long time. Part of me figured it was the result the Silver Lining, but at the same time, it felt like it came from another source. I had only been in London for a few days. I left my family behind, was staying in the most downtrodden wash house, and had my proposal rejected by a publishing company. This was all a recipe for gloom and despair, and yet I was feeling alright. It was as if something or someone was shining a beacon of light upon me, encouraging me to find my way. Amidst the unpredictability of the entire situation, I knew that I would. I picked up my pen and began to write.