#lmao get crash fished

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!! (Yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (Next)

(Chapter sixteen lmao)

He can't do this by himself. There was far too much ground to cover and far too little time. Every second that ticked by was another that the hatchling could be mauled.

“I lost the hatchling,” Guilt laced his voice as absolute mayhem broke out throughout the bond. Everyone was talking all at once, pelting questions at him.

“How could you lose him?!” Damian had no excuse. He should have paid closer attention. Something precious was entrusted to him and he'd squandered it. This was a failure he’ll have to carry with him for the rest of his life.

“Hold on, I'll be there in a minute,” Dick said, Damian made no protest.

Damian continued his search of the shallows, attempting to shove himself into caves, making as much noise as possible to lure the child into inspecting. If there was one thing he’s learned about the hatchling while watching him, it was that he’s territorial and curious.

Mere minutes passed before his brother was at his side.

“Is he dead? What do you mean you lost him?”

“I don’t know! He just vanished!”

Dick circled the shallows, nose pointed towards the surface. “I don’t smell blood,”

The hatchling’s blood had a distinct copper smell, that along with its deep red hue made it disturbingly easy to find corpses. He couldn’t be far, they'd find him soon. Even the tiniest of cuts would alert them of his presence. All they had to do was search.

“I think I found him!” Dick called out, his excitement killed by the painful-sounding wheeze of a Crashfish shooting out of its plant. The elder recoiled, thrashing backward, trying his best to avoid the explosive charging straight for him.

He failed, the blast spreading soot against the pale blue of his scales. The sudden explosion paired with the static electricity radiating off his body, resulted in a pained shriek from his brother. His own electricity damaged him, the stress causing jolts of electricity to shoot off him in response. His body seized, tail thrashing through the water, kicking massive clouds of sand up.

A frazzled expression rested on his brother's face, hand swiping at a threat that didn’t exist anymore. In any other situation, he might’ve found this hilarious, but now it was just a waste of precious time.

Precious time that could be used to find the-

“Go wAy”

It was faint, but hidden within the base of a creep vine stalk was the hatchling. The vines curled around the child’s body, tiny fingers curled around the handle of a blade almost bigger than his entire forearm. Odd, the hatchling would have come charging up to attack them but instead, the hatching nestled himself deeper in the vine, seemingly unaware of his detection. Kyanite blue eyes darted between him and Dick, eyes lingering on the elder. Apparently, Dick didn’t feel the wariness radiating off the hatchling in consistent waves of anxiety. If he did, maybe he would've refrained from squealing like Crabsnake and rushing towards the guppy.

“He’s so little!” The elder squealed, making grabby hand at the hatchling who held the blade out in warning. The hatchling wasn't the type to give warnings, only taking a few split seconds to attempt to tear flesh with tiny teeth too weak to do so. Something was preventing the hatchling from attacking Dick. Damian had a hunch as to what it was.

A peeper flipped belly up upon contact with Dick’s electric field. The elder didn’t seem to realize an aura of literal death surrounding him wasn’t appealing to a baby who couldn't understand they weren’t going to eat him. The little one flinched backward swiping wildly through the ocean.

Before Damian had the chance to snap, the guppy darted behind him, gripping onto a fin and attempting to use Damian as a shield.

“Damian, tell him I’m safe,” The elder begged, like Damian had any control over a guppy’s behavior! He wasn't some stalker who could be trained by tossing a couple pieces of meat in their direction! While it was possible to behavior train sentient beings, it was a hassle. A hassle that would land him another scolding from father who’d be… less enthused after the “incident” with Drake.

“Do you think I have him trained?” The elder paused as if considering what to say next. Good.

“I mean… Do you?”

“No! I didn’t train a baby,” He roared, tucking the child beneath a clawed hand, enough space for the child to dart through the gaps in his fingers but not enough for Dick to grab at him.

“DaMi ProtEct mE”

Dick froze, a squeal so high in pitch it disoriented a stalker that wandered into the shallows. “He knows your name! Come on kiddo, say my name too!” The elder encouraged, much to the hatchling’s terror. Damian sighed, lifting his claws to swipe at his elder brother.

“OW! What was that for?!” Dick pouted, rubbing his cheek.

“You’re scaring him!”

"I am not! right buddy?” Dick reached for the hatchling, the little one ducking away from the elder's open grasp.

“Scary,”

The hatchling screamed, the sound unnerving, sending shivers down their spines as the little one clung to Damian like a lifeline. Dick couldn’t have looked any more heartbroken.

“I told you, having both of us here would stress him out!” Damian snapped.

“You asked us to come help you find him!” The elder defended.

“Well, here he is. You can go now!”

"But-"

“Until Father dismisses me from this mission himself I will be the one watching this hatchling,” Damian interrupted.

“Damian…You know how fragile these babies are, we all need to be there for him,”

“I am perfectly capable of watching a hatchling on my own!” Damian snapped.

“You lost him about an hour ago,” Dick reminded.

“Irrelevant,” The hatchling squirmed, darting between his claws and booking it towards the surface. The hatchling did this often. Damian had learned pretty early on that it wasn’t cause for concern.

“…” Dicks silence spoke a thousand words. Damian prepared to explain the harmlessness of the action but was interrupted by his brother speaking.

“He breathes air?” The question rippled through the sea. It was an odd trait for a hatchling to have, very few creatures had the ability to breathe air. If you stuck close to the surface, you could see one of the only land dwellers flying through the sky.

“What is he?” They already knew all the babies came from artificial structures. Artificial structures that crashed down from the stars when shot down by the precursor’s structure. The children looked like their more vulnerable forms, just without the tails to jet them through the water. The all the hatchlings had legs different than anything they'd seen before. Legs suited for both land and sea.

“My guess is he’s like a cave crawler,” The child could swim, unlike cave crawlers who just walked around on the seabed. But they both shared the ability to walk on land. The hatchling stood on a piece of coral sticking out above water, staring at them intently.

The two of them watched the hatchling swim around, Damian smacking Dick to ease the child’s fear whenever he got too close for the guppy’s comfort.

“Stop hitting me!” Dick cried dramatically.

“Go back to the bulb zone and I will,” Damian snapped.

“Your electricity is killing the fish!” As if to prove his point, a garyfish floated into Dick’s electric field, almost popping from the sheer voltage the other was giving off.

“What do you think it’ll do to the hatchling if you actually manage to grab him, huh?” Damian questions, realization dawning on the eldest.

“Go back to the bulb zone and calm yourself. That Crashfish clearly stressed you out,” Damian finished, waving the other away.

“Fine, but I expect you to keep us updated!” Dick called out, boosting away from the shallows, using his hands to launch himself at top speed.

“We wIn!”

The hatchling declared, circling around him for a few seconds before fleeing to his nest.

Damian sighed, glad that the hatchling finally grew tired of attacking him.

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet @noxcheshire

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

[honnelander]

go fish! part 2

guyssss i did NOT expect this little series to blow up. y'all are amazing! i'm turning into a Sanji writing blog and am i mad about it? no lmao i received a couple of requests and i'll work on them as soon as i can. i'm really in the zone rn so i'll ride this wave as long as i can. if you want to be a part of the taglist for whenever i post new Sanji content, lmk. i hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.8k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: after being humiliated by Usopp earlier, reader stays in her room to decompress. however, she gets a visitor.

prequel part 1 part 3 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @jovialcat123

Mortified. That’s how you felt. Still. 

Ever since you ‘forfeited’ from finishing your Go Fish card game with Usopp a couple of hours ago, you had taken your glass of water that Sanji had poured for you and boarded up in your shared room with Nami, refusing to come out due to “heat exhaustion”. 

Poor Luffy, ever the golden hearted captain, was immediately worried for your wellbeing as soon as he heard that but after multiple reassurances from you and getting up off of your hammock multiple times to prove you were in fact, just fine, he relented from wanting to stop by the nearest island so he could find a doctor for you. Usopp had managed to convince him as well that all you needed was some water, alone time, and that you would be fine by dinnertime. 

You rubbed your eyes as you let out a sigh, vowing to yourself that the next time you wanted some time by yourself, you should just take a bath or something, since any other excuse would cause someone on the crew (Luffy) to lose their mind at the thought of someone not feeling well. 

You readjusted yourself, sitting more upright, as you downed the last of your water, it being warm by this point since it had been poured by Sanji hours ago. 

Sanji. Ugh.  

Your heart fluttered once again at the mere thought of him, but that flutter was immediately replaced by a wave of crashing embarrassment at the thought of the afternoon’s sequence of events. What had happened earlier wasn’t even anything that groundbreaking or special, but to you? It was everything. It wasn’t common practice in your life for the object of your affections to be so kind towards you, so thoughtful, to read and anticipate your needs before you even knew they were even there. But Sanji? He was all of that and more. And you didn’t even know him for that long! You’ve all been a part of the straw-hat crew for 5 months at this point and it felt silly to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on one of your crewmates in that short amount of time. 

And having feelings for your crewmate? Someone who you literally couldn’t get away from since you all were trapped on a ship together (not that you would ever want to be away from him or anyone else for that matter, besides Usopp, but still), it felt morally wrong. You guys were all a team. Sure, you all were off to sail around the world and chase dreams, but achieving all of that required teamwork and trust, and that was hard to do if two of those people were caught up with matters of the heart every hour of every day. 

Like, what if things didn’t work out in the end? Would you really want to put the crew’s dynamic at stake just because you thought the blonde guy was cute? No, you wouldn’t. It would be selfish so you would never dare to put yourself or Sanji in that position. No matter how much you liked him. 

So as much as it pained you, you could never tell Sanji how you feel. You would never cross that line of being a ‘professional pirate’ into something more, like a pirate wife. Or a pirate chef’s wife. 

It definitely didn’t help that freaking Usopp of all people on the crew knew about your affections for Sanji. Ugh, you groaned. He was the absolute worst person to know about it too. Why did he have to figure it out? Why did he have to be the one that had put two and two together to equal four? That your random bouts of awkwardness and shyness plus ‘heart eyes’ and blushes whenever Sanji was around equaled to you having a forbidden crush on the crew’s chef? It was embarrassing. And complicated.  

He loved to stir the pot too, so whenever he could tease you for it when you both were alone or in front of a clueless Sanji, he would. You remembered the kiss he had shared with Kayla back when the straw-hats had acquired the Going Merry, so you definitely jabbed him right back when you had had enough, since part of you felt guilty for it since Kayla was thousands of miles away and Sanji lived on this ship with you. Your situations were slightly similar but completely different.  

Also, completely different in the way that him and Kayla were basically dating at this point, albeit long distance, and had shared a kiss while you could barely sustain eye contact that lasted more than 5 seconds with Sanji. 

You were hopeless. 

“Knock, knock,” a familiar accented voice came through the closed door. “Y/n? Are you awake?” 

"Sanji?” you blurted out in complete surprise.  

Shit. You weren’t mentally prepared to see him just yet. At all. You were still replaying the interaction you both had earlier in your head, your overthinking mind going over every minute detail to figure out if Usopp’s careless teasing had given away your affections.  

Usopp, you mentally ground out. You were going to kill him. Sanji had never stopped by your room before so what on earth was he doing here now?  

Suddenly, a thought struck you like a bolt of lightning and made your stomach drop fifty miles below sea level: if Sanji had specifically stopped by your room just to gently let you down, that no, in fact he did not feel the same way about you, that he only thought of you as a member of the crew and nothing more....then yeah, you were definitely going to kill Usopp and throw him overboard. 

Before you could mentally plot out more details on Usopp's murder, the door opened and the straw-hat chef’s blonde head appeared. His eyes quickly scanned Nami’s empty hammock on the room’s left side before turning his head to the right, his blue eyes immediately finding your surprised ones, a (relieved?) smile lighting up his face at the sight of you. 

“So, I take it you’re awake?” Sanji asked in a light, teasing tone but not making an effort to move himself away from the doorway. 

“Uh, y-eah,” you stuttered out in surprise as you just stared at him dumbfounded. You still couldn’t figure out why he was here. 

Sanji continued to lock eyes with you, making your cheeks flush the longer you both stared at each other, and your palms sweat as the silence stretched on, making the tension in the air become thicker by the second. He blinked, his eyes darting to the side in confusion, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “May I come in?” 

“OH! Yes, of course- sorry,” you stuttered as you waved him inside, sitting up in your hammock and mentally face palmed yourself. Of course, Sanji was waiting on you to invite him inside. Like always, he was acting like a true gentleman. “Please, come in. Have a seat. Sorry, that was rude of me. Make yourself at home.” 

Sanji stood up to his full height and walked into your room with an easy smile and a small laugh, closing the door behind him. “Ah, don’t ever apologize y/n. You could never be rude to me,” Sanji rebuttalled and waved off your apology as he looked around and took in your very plain and basic shared room with Nami.  

Your room, or side of the room more specifically, wasn’t much to brag about considering you really didn’t have much to your name but for now, it was home to you. Your side consisted of your hammock, a wooden barrel next to it to act as a makeshift nightstand that housed your only book, a journal, and a lamp, along with an empty wooden crate to act as a makeshift seat and another to hold some of your other clothes and small travel bag. Nami’s side was similar to yours but had a touch more personality as she hung up some maps she found at various markets and drew up herself on her wall. 

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious about the lack of things in your room considering your current guest was dressed, as usual, to the nines in his signature black suit and blue and white striped shirt complete with a skinny black tie. “Sorry for the sad state of my room-” 

“Sad?” Sanji stopped admiring your room and snapped his gaze to look at you. His eyebrows pulled together as another confused smile adorned his features. “Why would you say that? Your room isn’t sad, I like it. It’s a reflection of you,” his next words came out softer, “and I think that’s beautiful.” 

You could feel heat crawling up your neck at his words as you busied yourself with placing the empty glass in your hand on your barrel nightstand. There was no way Sanji was calling you beautiful, he was just commenting on your room. With Nami. On your shared room that owed any ounce of ‘personality’ to the ship’s navigator because it was obvious you literally brought nothing special to this room whatsoever.  

You stopped yourself from spiraling into ‘I don’t bring anything special to the straw-hats, I don’t know why they keep me around’ thoughts because now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. Those dark thoughts were reserved when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night.  

As you placed the glass on the nightstand, you asked, “So, what brings you all the way to my room? Aren’t you usually prepping for dinner around this time?” 

Sanji’s eyes followed your hand and lit up when he saw the sole book on your nightstand. “Oh, a book? I didn’t know you liked to read.” His megawatt smile lit up a couple of notches as his eyes sparkled, he looked like he had just learned one of the universe’s greatest mysteries as he took a seat near you on an empty crate. “What book is that?” 

“Oh, that?” You mentally deflated at the fact you now had to tell Sanji about your favorite book, “It’s Pride and Prejudice.”  

You weren’t ashamed of having that book specifically, you loved it and it was your favorite book of all time, you had lost count at how many times you had read it at this point, but it was the fact that you now had to share this part of yourself with the guy you fancied. Guys normally scoffed and turned their nose up at romance book and romantic things, so you were bracing for Sanji to scoff and laugh at you like all the other guys did (like even Zoro and Usopp did when they first saw you reading it) but it never came. 

Instead, Sanji’s smile remained bright. “Ah, so you’re a lover of classic romances? Pride and Prejudice? Romeo and Juliet?” 

Immediately, you smiled, finding yourself instantly comfortable suddenly whenever you got to talk about one of your favorite things. “Absolutely. I don’t think there’s a problem big enough out there that love can’t solve. Family backgrounds? Wealth and status? At the end of the day, none of that stuff matters. What matters is if two people love each other.” 

Sanji stayed quiet for a moment, looking into your eyes with a twinkle of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. It made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, never breaking eye contact. “I agree.” 

You swallowed. “You like this stuff too? Have you read Pride and Prejudice?” 

Sanji blinked and that indescribable emotion he had in his eyes was gone. His smile remained, however, and became sheepish as he held up his hands, “Ah ok, you caught me. I’ve never read the full thing, but I know the main parts of the story. My favorite part that I did read though, was the first dinner with Mr. Collins and he complimented the Bennets on their ‘excellent boiled potatoes’.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head slightly as you teased, “I should’ve known that the chef of the Going Merry’s favorite part of the book is when food is discussed!” 

The blonde cook held his hands up again with a good-natured laugh, “Ah, you got me!” His face softened as he asked, “What about you?" He nodded towards the book. "What’s your favorite part?” 

You paused for a second as you mulled the question over. “Well, I'm not sure if you know about this part since you never read the book...” 

“Try me,” he encouraged softly. 

Your face turned to the side, your eyes looking at the wooden wall to your right, unable to bring yourself to look at Sanji as you told him your favorite part of your favorite book. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves, your voice becoming quiet as you told him, “My favorite part is...when Mr. Darcy barges in on Elizabeth for the first time, while she’s at her friend Charlotte’s house writing a letter. He had come to practice ‘conversating’ with her since he admitted that it wasn’t something he was good at and she had told him to practice it. So, Mr. Darcy just barged in and they had one of the most painfully awkward conversations ever...and he did all that just because he loves her. He did something he hated and was bad at, and opened himself up to embarrassment just because he wanted to improve and be better for her. It’s so romantic and beautiful.” 

The air was quiet after your mini monologue and for a moment, nothing could be heard except for their quiet breathing and the occasional crash of the ocean from outside your small window. 

Part of you worried that your little rambling had bored Sanji, so when you finally looked at him, imagine your surprise when you found him leaning in towards you, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees and his eyes watching you, completely engaged. It was like he was hanging onto your every word. 

Sanji scanned your face for a moment, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not familiar with that part in the book,” and before you could open your mouth to bring yourself down, he continued, “but, that doesn’t mean your answer is wrong.” He leaned back and slapped his hands against his thighs, “Hell, it’s a much more insightful answer than mine!” He laughed. “I just liked how they were poking some fun at boiled potatoes.” 

You laughed with him because yes, that part in the book also made you laugh as well. But at the mention of food, you realized that you still didn’t know why Sanji was here in the first place. Wasn’t he normally prepping for dinner at this time? He had to be running behind schedule at this point. 

“Why are you here, Sanji? Isn’t it almost time for dinner?” 

“Yeah, it is actually but I heard you weren’t feeling well so I wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re feeling alright and see if you have any special requests for dinner?” 

You couldn’t help the slight smile that overtook your face, trying to hide the blush at the fact that he was kind enough to check in on you and offer to practically be your own personal chef for the evening. 

You hummed for a moment, acting like you were deep in thought before asking with a raised eyebrow, "And what would you say if I requested some boiled potatoes?”  

The smile that lit up the chef’s face was priceless. He had never looked more beautiful. “To that, I would say ‘Absolutely. If that’s what the missus wants, then that is what the missus will get.’” 

Missus. There it was again. You felt all warm inside whenever he called you that, it made you feel like he was your husband and that you were his wife. But that wasn’t the case. Sanji definitely must have called other women that before. You weren’t special to him, he was just being polite.  

You swallowed down your emotions, putting your sudden wave of sadness away for later, putting on a small smile. “Then that sounds perfect. I would like to formally request some ‘excellent boiled potatoes’ as a side for dinner, please.” 

If Sanji noticed your sudden change in mood, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned as he said, “Excellent choice, Madam. Boiled potatoes, coming right up.” As he stood up and made his way towards your door, Sanji did one of the most unexpected things that nearly knocked the wind out of you. With his left hand on the doorknob he said, “And don’t worry, Madam. I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of extra love in there,” he turned and winked at you, “just for you.” 

With that, Sanji left your room, gently closing the door behind him, leaving you completely dumbstruck in your room, your mouth agape and body frozen. 

Did Sanji just say he loved you? 

You shook your head, because there was no way he did, right? He said he’d ‘sprinkle in some extra love’ into your potatoes, not 'I love you". You weren’t a chef, maybe that was a euphemism for something. 

You sighed.  

Those better be some good boiled potatoes. 

[suiana]

Sometimes I feel like I see a lot of mean darling (no offense to the mean people out there, do whatever you like with your pathetic yanderes)

but what do you think of a darling that’s super nice and friendly but then one day someone says something stupid (like a homophobe or smtn lmao 💀) and they just immediately say “Kill yourself” with no hesitation, then when people tell them they can’t say that they just say “whatttt I’m just saying what we’re all thinking”? You don’t have to answer, I just really am going insane because I’m too scared to write this myself 😭

i like ur idea anon

(yandere! tsundere x gn! sweet reader) (reader is secretly very unhinged)

"ugh you're so- i hate you! you don't deserve to-"

"kill yourself."

the tsundere, who is your classmate, immediately shuts up, staring at you as his mouth drops wider and wider by the second. what did you just say? are his ears working right? there's no way you could've said that haha...

"what? could you repeat that?"

"i said, kill yourself."

your tsundere classmate and you maintain eye contact, standing in silence as the weight of your words sinks in. the reality that you had just cursed at him comes crashing down on him like a ton of bricks and all he can do is stare at you like a dumb fish. and the fact that you don't have your usual cheery smile and aura is adding to the shock factor.

like seriously?

did you just seriously tell him to kill himself?

...

did you get possessed?

hit your head on something?

or maybe you were threatened to act like this?

the tsundere puts aside his pride for a second, walking up to you and observing your face with a careful expression. hm... you look okay...

"h-hey are you okay? you can't just say that you know-"

"I'm just saying what's been on my mind."

the tsundere is even more shocked now. flabbergasted even. what happened to the sweet and friendly darling he knew?! who is this person?!

"who-"

"I'm the person you've always tormented. i just couldn't handle you acting like you hate me anymore that's why i said that."

you shrug at him before going back to being all happy and cheerful.

"anyways remember to do the homework! it's due tomorrow! bye bye!"

you then skip out of the classroom, humming a merry tune as you leave your classmate alone with his thoughts. he stares at the spot you once stood at, completely stoned as his brain lags and he tries to compute what just happened.

there's no way you actually said that... kill himself? are you serious?

but somehow, he can't help but feel even more attracted to you. huh...

maybe he's a masochist.

[inkluvs]

babes idk what i’m going through but it’s not a slay and your little finnick blurb thingys bring me so much joyyy 😭😭😭 i don’t even know what im requesting but just more finnick thoughts

stop it ily tysm <3 here r some hcs / thoughts andd if something doesn’t make sense for the universe just assume its modern! skfjsjf

>> finnick runs warm and during the summer he sleeps without a shirt on so he’s basically like ur own heater <3 a plus is that if ur cold especially during the colder months he’d hold u flush against human at some point during the night he’d end up half on top of u <3

>> he also defo needs white noise or something to fall asleep because he’s so used to having the waves crashing onto the shore in the background? maybe just a fan or something just for the noise <3 but i think when the fan doesn’t work or just when both of u r too tired to turn it on, u breathing has the same affect as white noise for him <3

>> this is oddly out of place but like. a vision of watching the sunrise with him is coming to me right now <3 maybe he woke up from a nightmare or maybe he just intended to go out fishing n he ended up sitting on the steps of ur porch overlooking the beach a little too long. so u join him. half asleep and searching for his body heat with a blanket splayed over your shoulders and you lay on him, watching the sky burst with red and orange and shift until only the sun is reflecting off of the waves <3

>> i will never ever ever get over finnick and his knit sweater imagine him and his closet full of knit sweaters that only really make an appearance during the colder months but he just looks so soft in them u can’t help but want to squeeze him <3

>> i don’t think finnick is a coffee guy in the sense that he doesn’t like the way it makes him feel? he’s definitely more of a tea person n he’d make u a mug whenever he wants one n he’d put a little honey in yours to make it sweet <3 he’d defo make u coffee if u wanted some though

>> he’d get u a little sweet treat or present every time he stops by the market <3 a bag of candy or some banana bread or a danish or some earrings really whatever reminds him of u in the moment <3 i think it’d get to a point where even the storekeepers would know it’s for u like “this is for that partner of yours yeah? i have this pastry that i saved for them”

ok that’s it thank u for this babe i hope this is ok <3 ps i’m writing this right before i go to bed so none of it is proof read sorry LMAO <3

[strawbeelemonade]

PLATONIC HEADCANNONS: being miles morales best friend but your also a bit insane (Part 2!)

i'm gonna try to remember to start specifying when something is intended to be platonic or romantic.

🕷- I was literally unable to cram everything I wanted to say in the first one.

🕷- Miles is really only comfortable showing you his drawings.

🕷- He's an incredibly awkward guy, but the words come so easily when he hangs out with you. he doesn't choke up like he does with other people at school.

🕷- When he gets his powers his first instinct is to call you. He’s literally halfway through punching your number into the keypad until he stops and decides against it. He knows your number off by heart now.

🕷- You appear and disappear like a ghost its so random.

🕷- Honest to god, he lowkey thought you were homeless until you invited him over to watch Barbie Mermaidia.

🕷- “Bibble is so me.”

🕷- He’s the only person you let over at your place. its small and in the basement of an old apartment complex. the landlord couldn’t get anyone to pay to live there. you live alone.

🕷- You struck a deal, and they let you crash there as long as rent was on time and you fixed their washing machine for free.

🕷- Miles asked how you got to live there for so cheap. You tell him it’s because someone died on the couch he was sitting on.

🕷- He sits on the floor.

🕷- Miles is so eager to share his new powers with someone.

🕷- No seriously, between all the stress and lying and anxiety its nice to let himself get excited about it. To let himself have fun and see what he can do.

🕷- You guys TOTALLY video tape him trying out his new powers for the first time.

🕷- I can imagine you finding an abandoned alleyway on some random ass street after school and filming Miles Trying to do a backflip LMAO.

🕷- You gotta fish him out of a trashcan after he tries to spider climb up the wall.

🕷- You know that thing where a group of friends duck tapes one of their friends to a wall for fun? You get miles to do that to you.

🕷- You guys can’t stop laughing, The best memories of your lives are in those videos.

🕷- He’ll take you up to the top of buildings to show you the graffiti art he painted!! he’ll let you sign it off with a dick and balls or a heart if you want. You guys do homework up there together as well.

🕷- ’M & (Y/I) were here’ has been painted on every available surface of New York.

🕷- You both have the bright idea to hop on his back and go web slinging around the neighbourhood. He can carry you easily.

🕷- Miles decides If you don’t tell him to slow down, then he’s not going fast enough.

🕷- You NEVER tell him to slow down.

🕷- “Faster!!!“

🕷- Now that he’s got super strength he can put you in an inescapable headlock, he doesn’t do it too tight but he holds you there until you tap out.

🕷- He takes you to the coolest spots with the best views.

🕷- You regularly cover for him.

🕷- “We were at Jamba Juice the whole time officer I swear.”

🕷- Miles side eyes you knowing damn well he was no where NEAR a Jamba Juice.

🕷- ’Thanks’ he’d mouth.

🕷- You and Petter B will get along like a house on fire.

🕷- While Miles is extremely unimpressed by him, you don’t seem to care about any pre-existing expectations one might have when you think of the guy behind the mask of Spider-Man, your cracking jokes and feeding your pet rat a couple of French fries while the three of you sit in the diner, planning your next moves carefully.

🕷- Peter B can tell you’re a good kid. He’s at an age where a lot of your batshit tendencies don’t really faze him as long as your not hurting yourself.

🕷- Speaking of which.

🕷- When him and Miles get the chance to talk alone he warns him that he needs to be careful.

🕷- He tells him that normal relationships aren’t possible anymore. And stresses to him what a life like this can mean for your loved ones. especially since you found out his secret. This line of work isn’t just dangerous for Miles, but for you as well.

🕷- Miles is a little shaken after the conversation, no matter how gently Peter tries to put it. But what he’s implying is clear. He tries to shake it off and enjoy the time you both spend together. He won’t admit to himself that Peter is right just yet.

🕷- It’s just so easy to tell you everything and rely on you.

🕷- There will be a moment sometime in the future when reality sets in, but for now Miles makes the same mistake every Spider-Man does.

🕷- He has a best friend. :(

🕷- On the other hand, Peter comes to the staggering realisation that your actually extremely prone to accidents and danger all on your own. And he appropriately does a complete 180 from ‘casually distant bum-uncle' to ‘I am your dad now’.

🕷- It’s Nothing personal, kid. now stop trying to get in the middle of fights with dangerous criminals and let the adult— or at least the guys with super strength, stamina, speed and resilience— handle it.

🕷- He demands you stay out of the crossfire, but, to no one’s surprise you don’t listen.

🕷- You’re willing to throw yourself in front of Miles to shield him from anything, much to your best friends terror.

🕷- You hold your own surprisingly well against opponents that would be considered reasonable threats otherwise. You’re resourceful, grabbing anything and everything you can get your hands on. you get a terrifying look in your eye.

🕷- No matter how impressed Peter is, He will slingshot you around with his web-shooters to propel you out of the way of oncoming attacks. He will do this for both of you, but feels the need to do it less for Miles. He knows he can take what’s on the other end of the punch. But No matter how untouchable you make yourself out to be, you can’t.

🕷- “Do I want kids?”

🕷- He takes you on as his responsibility just as much as he does Miles.

🕷- Spider-Gwen also looks out for you in battle.

🕷- She’s more laid back, and even a little suave about it too.

🕷- She secretly wishes she had someone like you in her universe. What she wouldn’t give to decompress with you after a long day of patrolling New York.

🕷- She’s actually the most normal about you having a pet rat. You know, the one you grabbed out of a garbage can in a subway station. Yeah, That rat.

🕷- Miles watches you both get along like a house on fire and just quietly falls behind you both since he’s not sure what to do or say.

🕷- He’s so awkward, poor guy.

🕷- Your tendency to go off for days at a time ignites everyone’s curiosity. it’s a concerning habit, and Gwen even endeavours to follow you to see where you disappear to so often.

🕷- She’s unsuccessful.

🕷- It's never said out loud, but when she’s facing the one-way ticket home she finds herself wanting to stay just a bit longer. Not just for Miles, but for you to… She wonders what you’ll get up to while she’s gone.

🕷- …

🕷- Peter Porker vibes with you so hard.

🕷- no wait don’t scroll away wait

🕷- he WILL gift you the freakishly large cartoon mallet. Sorry, but miles didn’t appreciate it for what it was.

🕷- He would be cracking jokes and doing bits with you through out the whole goddamn movie.

🕷- Miles can usually let you do your own thing without sparing a second glance, but the looney tunes laws of physics that Porker exhibits WILL rub off on you at least a little.

🕷- It’s contagious. And when you start flattening eachother into to perfect discs it freaks everyone out a little.

🕷- He’s got enough to worry about in the plot,,, Damn,,

🕷- Spider Noir teaches you how to throw a good punch

🕷- in exchange you let him mess with your phone as much as he wants

🕷- "how the hell do you work this thing?"

🕷- He likes you, he thinks you got a lot of guts.

🕷- You were actually the one to design Miles’ suit. He took inspiration from one of your drawings in your school notebook.

🕷- You've always believed in him, and that made him believe in himself too.

[thegaysinmyhead]

DC X DP IDEA(?)

Guys why is literally no one jumping on a VERY OBVIOUS trope for ghosts??

FUSION?? LIKE STEVEN UNIVERSE STYLE??

Just–hear me out hear me out!

Ghost forms are just extensions of their core, so it makes sense they can be changed right?? Gems physical bodies are just extensions and projections of their gem!!

SO, if going by a lot of phanon core logic, it would make sense if ghosts can have conversations to like fuse or something. Probably to use in battle mostly (ghosts are obviously territorial) but can also be used for love or to protect a weaker/damaged core! JUST IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES!!

Danny being able to fuse literally Steven universe style w his friends because he's a halfa, Danny being able to fuse with Jason because he has a connection because of the pits (Halfa or Revenant Jason Todd), Danny fusing with LITERAL BATMAN as he's the ghost king!!

CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW TERRIFYING THAT WOULD BE???

Jason in the middle of getting sacrificed: :|

Danny, the one being summoned and seeing a poor baby ghost/potential boyfriend material and snatching him to protect him: :)

Bruce:

Tim:

Dick:

Barbara:

Steph:

Cass:

Jason: ¯\(°_o)/¯

Danny: Mine now :)

*he says as their body erupts into flames and they become the most bad ass looking ghost that kicks the cultists asses; Before they started lounging around and reading Jane Austen* (floating laying down is apparently more comfortable than just laying down on something solid, so its nice to float and read)

ORRRR

Justice League facing off an impossibly strong enemy that they have no choice but to look into outside sources to help defeat him (Trigon, Darkseid, something else that probably show up like 4 times a week lmao). Eventually, JLD get wind of a new ghost king who's supposedly kind and benevolent, which is races better than his old counterpart.

With the entire League's permission, begrudgingly Batman's, they summon the Ghost King as a last option and are ready to sacrifice anything for his help (within reason). Imagine their surprise when Danny Fenton, aged somewhere between 16 to 21, pops up in the portal looking frazzled and like he was woken up from a nap. Not even in his ghost form, just blinking owlishly at the League members while gaping like a fish.

"Holy shit—the Justice League?! I'm being summoned by the Justice League?! Ohmygod Tucker is gonna freak"

Constantine butts in looking nervous as hell and sweating buckets, "Your Majesty—"

"Just Danny's fine, I can't believe I'm being summoned by THE Justice League!"

"...Danny. We could really use some of your help, mate. See, we got ourselves an issue we can't really fix ourselves–"

"I'll do it. I'm not even joking, you guys don't even have to ask me twice,"

Everyone in the League (besides Batman) was watching with bated breath at the exchange. The confusion as a random teenager showed up was quickly washed away with how formally he was addressed, but it spiked back up when 'Danny' seemed to...hero worship them?

"—But!"

Ah, there it was. Can never do trades in the occult for free.

"I would really do it for free if I could man, honest! Just...I need to make a teensy weensy deal to be let out of the circle? You guys don't even have to let me do it on my own if you're worried I'll go rogue! You can tie me into a deal about one of you 'using my power' in exchange for like, a cup of coffee or something,"

Now everyone (except Batman, though he seemed to have a clenched jaw) was opening gaping as the omnipotent described being. Being offered something to great...in exchange for a mug of bean water? There had to be a catch, some sort of trickery, but Diana and many others could sense no ill intent on the young king. Constantine had even let up on the nerves as the being continued to speak, relief seeming to crash through his entire body when he realized none of them would have to give up their soul or something. Batman was the first to speak up.

"And if you were...to offer your power to one of us, what would that entail for the mortal or semi-mortal user?"

The king hummed and tapped his chin in thought, "Well, they'd probably be fine. Most of my power would be filtered through myself, so whoever is wielding it wouldn't go mad or suddenly overwhelmed with it. It'd be like turning on the tap while the well is underground, or something close,"

Batman nodded before Danny continued to speak.

"—But, obviously, I reserve the right to take away my power at any point if I see it needed. I would not be mind controlled, nor would I be drained, I would be an observer in the back of whoever decides to be at the other end of the contract until it's fulfilled,"

Constantine stepped forward once again, cigarette all but ash between his lips now, "Contract, right, mate. So uh, one of our sorry blokes gets access to your unfathomable power for the time it takes to beat whatever the hell it is out there. And in exchange, you get a cuppa? Maybe some biscuits and other treats with it to sweeten the deal?"

Danny smiled brightly at the ruffled looking blond and nodded, "Sounds good to me!"

All at once, the room dropped in temperature as the summoning circle around Danny became encased in ice. The ice shimmered an otherworldly dark blue, almost black, and stretched until it reached the feet of the young king. A spark lighted ontop of Danny's head before exploding into a flame, a crown taking shape through the smoke of the fire to sit upon the teenagers head. There was a flash of blue as a ring materialized on the teen's finger, as well as a cape seeming to sew itself from nothing to sit upon his shoulders. Danny looked sheepish as much as he looked serious, his eyes now emanating a neon green with hints of red in his pupil.

"This is kind of the awkward part, whoever what's to use my power will have to form the contract. I don't really feel comfortable with a super or meta using it, with how powerful I am it might cause more damage than repair it, so preferably a human or mostly human host?"

Danny looked so incredibly shy all of a sudden as he rubbed the back of his neck in an incredibly human gesture. The word's were out of Batman's mouth before he even realized he was speaking then.

"I'll do it," The Bat walked forward to stand beside Cobstantine. Constantine pinched his eyebrows together before letting out a nervous chuckle. Danny just seemed to light up.

"Ohmygosh I'm going to be core merging with Batman," the young king seemed to be doing another small fan-boy freakout before coughing and collecting himself.

"Right, right. Contract to do now, tell my Fraid about this later," Danny lifted up a flaming hand towards the edge of the summoning circle, motioning gently to the Bat.

"Heads up, this is going to feel really weird. Just keep holding onto me after the contract sets, and then make sure to get everyone away as fast as possible. You will grow, it's not gonna be very nice if other people are around because you'll squish them,"

The other League members around nodded mutely, eyes staring at Batman as they prayed and wished for his safety. Batman just gruffed and slowly placed his own hand into the awaiting palm. It didn't burn as he thought it would. In fact, it felt quite cold. Like the feeling of putting your bare hand into a pike of snow just to know how it felt. Batman forced himself not to shiver as he felt the contract form through the handshake. The young king sent him a reassuring smile before he seemingly vanished.

No, not vanished. There was a bright light in Bruce's gloves hand that shook with power. The light—sphere, orb?—sunk into his palm, and this time Bruce did shiver. It felt like the biting winds of a blizzard as it crept up his arm to settle in between his ribs. There was a ringing in his ears blocking out the noise around him, but he could faintly make out images of the League rushing away from him and giving a very large berth.

There was a building in his chest, and he felt it pulse like a second heartbeat. Bruce pulled his hands to his sternum and clawed uselessly as the hevlar, the freezing cold threatening to consume him whole inside and out. His chest pulsed, and he fell to the ground in a heap. Bruce heard some of the members try to rush to him, but the JLD held them baback. There was a cracking like ice pulling away from itself, like glaciers splitting, and all of a sudden Bruce felt power rush through his veins.

It should have been overwhelming, it should have terrified him into immeditely creating contingencies, it should have drove him mad with power, but it didn't. Bruce didn't realize his form had grew until he opened his eyes (when did he close them) and blinked down at the members of the League. They were so...small compared to him now. Bruce felt more than he saw the flames dance from his collarbone, and they flickered up high around his thankfully still cowled face. Though, it seemed his face was the cowl right now.

Bruce turned to the being they were fighting (and losing to) moments ago, and smirked. He felt the spike of fear, and he suddenly knew that this thing didn't stand a chance.

.

.

.

GUYS I KNOW BRUCE WOULD NEVER AGREE TO POWERS LMAO LET ME DREAM THO I THINK HE WOULD LOOK COOL ASF AS A GHOST!!

[ikkosu]

About mermaids hihi JUST FOR YA POOKIE

Lost light crash in the middle of the ocean, but they need to get out of there bc yeah they will rust slowly bc of salty water.

Your bot is alone in his crashing aera, but the aera is your home. So when they wake up, the first thing they see is a lil curious mermaid swimming around their form.

You notice their opened optics and starts poking at their nose.

When the bot move, you flee quickly, scared, but stays close. You bring them later some colorfull shells and fish, and try to make them eat.

The bot try gently to move you over so they can continue on their journee and try to get out of there (i headcanon them as being unable to swim because way too heavy).

"Shoo, little whatever-you-are, please, i have to find my crewmates"

But even with that you stay with them, very curious and playfull. You poke their nose, tug on their digit, brush their form with yours to discover more strange things. They are weird. But really funny.

"No, no tugging on my head chevron"

"Is that for me? Why, thank you (what am i gonna do with this?)"

"What- hey, that's my wheel! You're very curious are you, little cutie?"

Long story short, the bot manage to go back to the surface with a lot of rust on their frame, systems dammaged but they're still alive, and you remained by their side all the way out. So the bot learned to like you. And don't want to leave you here. They send an SOS signal and wait on the beach for anybot to save them. And there, surprise, you get out of the water (he has a spark attack because like, you need water ???) and they see your tail becoming legs (with scales, ur not skin naked lmao).

You just cuddle his servo or hips, not showing any signs you were gonna leave. Bring them food, shells, plenty of gifts and making a nest all around you two.

After some times, they understand that it's because they reciprocated your little games you were pulling on him, like special dances, giving each other food, mimicking some of your gestures, because you always seem so happy when they were doing so. Turns out it was a mating ritual. They're accidentally mated to you. You didn't even care he was not even organic.

Regrets? Not really. Just, we are not gonna show you to Brainstorm...

-----

I HOPE MY MERMAID TAKES ARE GOOD FOR U POOKIE 🙏🙏🙏

YOUR TAKES ARE VALID!! THATS SO CUTE OMG

The bots sinking in like seven feet down into the ocean because they crashed and having those itty mermaids flutter around them, poking their nose and curling around their neck, purring.

Rodimus would be the most active bot interacting with the mermaids. If it was Megatron, I'd doubt he'd prefer to mingle — but he doesn't mind the close proximity. A few rub of his digit on their small head or a small smile is all he could muster.

Nautica would ecstatic to see one! Blushing when one of the mers would nuzzle her neck (they find that spot strangely warm and the gentle vibration is a comfortable lull to sleep.) She also made a mental note of hiding the mers if Brainstorm were ever to find out....

Luckily, he's trapped in the debris. Along, with the others.

I can imagine the small group of mermaids would help to pull aside the chunks of metal. Trilling happily when they're rewarded with a prim tousle of their head. Rodimus had already gotten so attached to the little things.

Maybe, Magnus wouldn't mind if they were to stay here a few days...

"In the ocean?" He balks. "Out of the question. The salt is going to purge through our processors and turn our insides to rust! Do you want that to happen?''

Rodimus huffs.

...Or not.

[merakiui]

read the beach thoughts with step-bro leech twins and i have so many thoughts,,, i love summer w my whole heart

not into stepcest but i’m imaging just regular old jade leech and beach sex. i feel dude has got to love outdoor sex, the feeling of earth underneath him and residue of sand or dirt on various body parts. found this image and just thinking thoughts

sooo on-the-nose swimsuit but hear me out

like him taking the reader in those grimy beach bathroom stalls, not bothering to take off the swimsuit, just pulling it aside bc he’s so greedy and insatiable, maybe sex on the beach, the sound of crashing waves such a pretty background music while fucking against the rock wall at night

anyway lmao bye

:O !!!!!! such a pretty swimsuit omg....... but you're so right. Jade loves outdoor sex on all terrains!!! Getting nasty in the dirt and sand... it doesn't even matter to him; he just loves being so close to the earth, pressed against his beloved, sweat and other fluids mixing with sand and dirt,,, leaving the imprint of your bodies in the soft soil. Omg the idea of Jade fucking you against wet earth after it's just rained and you smell like sex and rain!!!!!! Or finding a secluded strip of beach that's far from prying eyes just so you can fuck each other into the sand...... in my heart, there is nothing more romantic to Jade Leech than being wrapped up in two things he loves: you and nature. <3

Digression aside, the grimy beach bathrooms......... 👁 👁 clothed sex,,,, just moving it aside because he can't be bothered to undress the two of you completely (he's impatient and too horny; the swimsuit works miracles)!!!!!! That's so yummy AAAAAAAAA. Holding you up against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist. And it's probably so humid in there, and you're already so sticky from the heat. Now you can be sticky in other ways. :D

Maybe it's my own delusion, but I think Jade would be interested in sailing....... Floyd doesn't understand the appeal at first because (in his words): "why would I wanna be on the waves in some boat when I could just swim and be faster than them in the water??????" But Jade thinks boats are a lovely thing, and he wants to try it at least once. Hehe Jade renting a cruiser boat for a short getaway, and the two of you spend the weekend being out at sea. Feeling the waves rock the boat while you're cuddling in the cabin... or lounging on the deck,,, jumping off the boat to swim. Jade going between human form and mer form, hunting fish for tonight's dinner while you cheer him on from the boat....... this is just me shamelessly rambling about a silly sailing fic I want to write with Jade, but the Vision is there!!! T^T

In any case, I adore the idea of Jade and beach sex. It's so very true!!!! He would love to fuck you in all manner of ways and rhythms with a pretty seascape as the background and rolling waves as the ambience........ I love him a very unhealthy amount.

[hanckocks-dagger]

oh, the night's so blue

masterlist

John hancock x f!reader

Description: After a drunken one night stand with your boss and mayor, you'd planned on hiding out in your room for several months. Those plans get delayed when Nate, general of the Minutemen and your childhood friend, asks you to join him on a quest in the west of the Commonwealth.

Tags: Drunken one night stand, Hancock is a pining simp, and a slut. Reader is not SoSu, has afab characteristics and is referred to with she/her pronouns through the story. No y/n

Warnings: Smut! Drunk sex, consentual but I'll throw in the dubcon tag anyway, talk of violence, guns and drugs a lá Fallout ofc

Word count: 6.1K

Notes: So this is a one-shot that sort of feeds into an idea I've had in my head for a while, of a reader that knew Nate from before the bombs, who either ended up in Vault 111 as well or something similar, but got out about a year before Nate did. This might end up turning into a series of semi-connected one-shots or I might just cut it off here, but I definitely have some other ideas for this story rolling around in my head. More story focused than some of my other fics, delving a bit more into what actually living in the game's story would be like, but of course a hefty dose of our lovely Hancock. But I really like Nate, and I didn't want to make the reader the Sole Survivor so we could see the two of them interact. Also my Nate build is usually high charisma, high strength and low intelligence (idiot savant perk ofc), so he's a bit of a himbo <3 my fav type of man.

Also just a small and totally irrelevant thing, but I headcanon Nate/the sole survivor as choosing not to smoke, just because the player isn’t able to smoke in the game. Just a fun tidbit I threw in there. Also, I’m a smoker and I have friends who aren’t and the relentless back and forth teasing is always fun. They all vape anyway, so it’s just a race for who gets cancer first lmao. 

Cross posted on my ao3!

"What's the status on the top shelf stuff?" You yelled out from the back room, wiping drops of sweat from your forehead before they could drop into your eyes. Sure, the new beer tap was ingenious, making the closest thing to actual fresh beer since you'd come out on this side of the cryo-chamber, but goddamn were the canisters heavy.

"Almost out of moonshine, luv," Charlie called from the bar, tinny cockney accent carrying through the open space.

That was fine, you could drop by and speak to Vadim tomorrow before opening, as long as Hancock could supply the caps and lend you some help to carry the bottles back.

"Anything else?" You grunted, heaving a full canister back out to the front, bending down to connect the pipes.

"I think you should start carrying some Fireball, I know how much you used to like it," A new voice spoke up from the other side of the bar, startling you into banging your head on the underside of the bartop. You cursed, shooting to your feet, finding a ginning, familiar face on the other side.

"Nate!"

He said your name back with the same amount of enthusiasm, slouched in one of the barstools, familiar bright blue vault suit looking a little worse for wear.

"When did you get in? How did you get in?" You asked, eyes flitting about. Sure enough, there in the background, spread over one of the couches was mayor Hancock, speaking with a smiling Magnolia and a broody looking MacReady.

"Just landed in town, figured I'd come say hi before crashing at the Rexford."

"Well, shit," You breathed, wiping your sweaty hands on a dishrag, "Can I get you a drink? I want to hear about this oh-so-secret mission you were on."

"Sure, I'll take a beer."

You fished over a clean-ish looking glass, gave it a quick wipe for good measure, and poured. The movements were practiced, muscle memory from a lifetime ago taking over as you tilted the glass, filled it, flicked the spout the other way for some top foam. You slid it over the bar, accepting Nate’s smile as payment. 

You grabbed yourself a glass, calling out to Charlie as you filled the glass with ice, “I’m calling it a night, just leave me a list of whatever needs to be done in the morning.

You poured yourself some of the top shelf stuff, nothing good by pre-war standards, but nowadays it was rare and mostly didn't taste like it was 200 years old.

You stepped around the bar, planning on planting yourself on a stool next to Nate, but he was already rising to his feet, heading for the rest of the group.Hiding your awkwardness, you trailed after him. You knew MacReady tangentially, sometimes bringing him drinks into the backroom, keeping an eye out for disagreements and sometimes running up to get Ham when things were getting out of hand. Magnolia was your coworker of course, and there was plenty to talk about after long shifts, but she was– technically speaking– about twenty years your senior, and married to her job in a way you weren't.

Then there was Mayor Hancock. A charming flirt at the best of times, happy to stand up for you on the job, as the owner of the bar, after all, but there was always something about him you never managed to crack, never straying away from genial small talk. Small talk, of course, these days, meant discussing the last Super Mutant raid, or let him rattle off about his favorite chems. As you approached, he tipped his hat at you and you responded with a little curtsy, using your free hand to tug on your apron like a skirt. 

You fell onto the couch beside Nate, stirring your drink with a finger, using your other hand to untie the apron around your waist. Being off your feet felt good. There were no clocks in the Third Rail, and no windows, so your sense of time tended to get a bit skewed, but seeing as Ham usually tossed out the stragglers by 5 am and you'd had a mess and a half to clean up, you assumed it must be closing in on dawn. A rough 12 hour shift made your liquor feel earned, as you sipped at it, feeling the warmth spread through your chest.

"So," You said, catching Nate's attention before he could get sucked into the others' conversation, "What was the notorious General of the Minutemen up to this week? Liberating some more settlements?"

"Mmm, actually doing some work for the Railroad," His tone went hushed, unnecessary and strangely endearing, as everyone in the bar knew and was at least non-committal about their activities.

"Ahh," You replied, matching his tone. "Did it go well?"

"It went fantastically. I brought my own team in," He motioned with his beer toward Hancock and MacCready, "But we ended up getting some help from another agent, too. And, man, what a lady," he went a bit starry eyed, making you laugh.

"Got a little crush, Nathaniel?"

He snorted, and you spotted the tinge of red in his cheeks with glee. 

"Nothing like that, but what a powerhouse. You should have seen her, mowing them down with a minigun."

"Don't sell yourself short, Nate, I've seen you in Power Armor before. Unstoppable force and all that."

Ever humble, Nate's cheeks turned rosier, and he glanced down at his drink. You watched his Adam's apple bob, the shy smile that graced his features.

To put him out of his misery, you turned to the group at large, "So, does this mean you've returned our beloved mayor back, or are you heading out again?"

Hancock's attention snapped up from MacReady so he could grin at you, "What, you missed me doll?"

"Well, you do sign my paychecks," You smiled back at him, then remembered, "Oh, yeah, speaking of, I have to go over to Diamond City tomorrow to get more of Bobrov's best, maybe I can steal Nate to help me ferry it all back."

He hummed, "What d'ya say, brother? 100 caps to keep my favorite employee safe?"

From behind the bar, Charlie gave his best impression of a grunt, "I resent that, mayor!"

"'M sorry, Charlie, you just don't have her charm."

"Or her tits," Magnolia chimed in, twirling an unlit cigarette in her fingers as she smirked at you.

You flushed, eyes flitting around, finally landing on Hancock and MacReady's empty glasses, "Refills, boys?"

"Thought you'd clocked out," MacReady said, even as he handed over his glass. "Well, I'm the club's ambassador even after hours, gotta keep the reputation up."

"You best not be giving free drinks to every sorry brother that walks in here," Hancock called after you as you stepped behind the bar.

"Mm, no," You sing-songed back, "Only my favorites."

The night passed easily. You stayed by Nate’s sidelistening to him tell tales of the people he'd been meeting, the farm he recruited for the minutemen last week. He didn't delve too far into this last mission, always the good soldier who followed orders. You spent about twenty minutes trying to guess his secret Railroad code name.

"Mmmm, buttercup."

"Not even close."

"Sugar bomb?"

The look of offense he gave you was so scathing it had you spitting out half your beer over the table, doubled over in laughter as he complained.

"It relates to my prowess as an agent, not some pre-war pet name!"

"Fine, fine, uhhhh. Striker? Shadow? Tank?"

"Honestly, these are terrible. Never open a baby naming business."

"Uhm, excuse you," You said, taking a sip of beer to try and reduce the heat in your cheeks, "I would make excellent raider names. Chainsaw, evil-eye, uhhhhh," You cast your eyes around, searching for inspiration, "Ricky."

"Ricky?" MacReady asked, eyebrows knit in confusion, "What's wrong with Ricky?"

"Dunno," You shrugged, "Doesn't he just sound like an asshole?" You put on an air, repeated 'Ricky' in an ominous voice, which got MacReady and Nate to crack up again.

Magnolia vanished up to the surface after a bit of flirting with Hancock, insisting on her beauty sleep. As was your usual, you whistled after her, calling lewd, joking comments as she walked up the steps. As was her usual, she gave you a scowl and the middle finger.

"Ehhh, I'll get her to crack one of these days," You murmured into your beer, that tipsy, never ending giddy smile stuck on your lips. You caught Hancock's eye where he sat, now alone on the couch, spread eagle with his gangly limbs. When he spotted you, he gave you a grin, cigarette in his teeth.

Suddenly you desperately wanted a smoke. You patted your own pockets, found that you'd left them at home. You cursed the you from the morning for whatever logic had made that choice, suddenly desperate for nicotine.

Your head, resting against the back of the couch, lolled to look over at Nate. Who, of course, didn't and had never smoked. Goody-two-shoes.

So, you clambered to your feet, ignoring the ache that made itself apparent, and collapsed over besides Hancock.

"Does the good mayor have some cigarettes to share?" You asked, hand on his knee, leaning in close to be heard over a playful argument MacReady and Nate had started.

Hancock's smile got wider somehow, those deep dark eyes crinkling at the corner, giving the appearance of crow's feet.

"For you? Always." He dug around in the deep pocket's of that crazy coat, pulling out a cigarette case. Instead of handing you one, though, he plucked the one from his mouth and stuck it into yours.

Brain slowed by a long shift and plenty of alcohol, it took a moment for the action to catch up with, fingers rising slowly to pluck at the cigarette. You blinked at him, but he seemed unphased, pulling out another cigarette from his case and lighting it.

You leant back in the couch as your brain caught up on his move, staring blankly at a gesturing Nate, MacReady equally engrossed, somehow having missed the interaction that now had your brain reeling. Hancock's arm was stretched out behind you, tantalizingly close, fingers almost tickling the hairs at the back of you neck. You felt the chill of goosebumps, shook off the urge to shiver.

You puffed at the cigarette instead, slowly sinking back in the couch, reverting back to the sort of talk you were used to with the mayor, "How'd you like the trip? Nice to get out of the city?"

Hancock took it in stride, as he did everything, "Oh, yeah. Makes you forget what's out there, staying too long in these walls."

You hummed your assent. You stuck to Goodneighbor because you wanted to stay alive. The furthest you'd ventured in the last year was scoping out that brewery for the Rexford. But Hancock was a ghoul, and even so was more careless with safety than anyone else you knew. Getting out of the city, with only yourself and the stars as company... it was a romantic idea.

"So, what, we're gonna become the Railroad's home base now?" You teased,

"Not exactly," Hancock replied, flicking ash off the end of his cigarette, "But Nate knows his shit, and he trusts them. They're doing good, dontcha think?"

You considered this, rolling it around in your liquor soaked brain, "I guess it depends on whether you think the synths are just robots or... y'know, slaves being put through just as much pain as we are."

Hancock nodded, eyes trained on you, expression curious. For all his flirting, Hancock was easily one of the more respectable men you'd met, always willing to listen, even if he was usually a bit too out of his mind to interpret it. He was whip-smart, too, when he was sober enough to put a thought together.

"I suppose it depends on if you believe in the soul. Do you, Mayor Hancock?" Some deep-seated, long ago buried urge reared his head. You remembered being a kid, sitting in a diner with high-school friends, batting your eyelashes at a crush of yours, a coy smile on your face, trying for a sultry voice and missing it by a mile. But now you were about two hundred years older, and had a few years of experience under your back.

So when you looked at Hancock through lidded eyes, purposely hollowed your cheek as you sucked on your cigarette, the one that had been in his mouth before yours, you could appreciate his reaction. The widening of his eyes, the way the hand behind your head seemed to move just a bit closer, the minute shift of his hips as his body turned further towards you.

"I think I'm a bit too sober for those kinds of questions," He snickered. Being a Ghoul made determining age difficult, but sometimes you were sure Hancock was young, younger than you even, the way he carried himself, the carelessness of a teenager.

You smiled back, soft, put your cigarette out in an ashtray on the table, picking up your glass instead.

Hancock said your name, sultry, and that hand finally brushed your shoulder, a gentle, teasing touch.

You answered with a smile, a tilted, " John," followed by a sip from your drink, one you concentrated all your effort into drinking as normally as you could. If you let your tongue slide over your lips to catch the lingering taste, well, no one had to know.

"You know," You said, voice hushed as if you were revealing a great secret, "I feel like I don't know you well enough. You haven't been around enough since you hired me."

"I knew I left the bar in good hands," As if to prove his point, his fingers teased over your bare forearm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Maybe, I should- ah- give you a tour of the Old State House sometime."

The innuendo was painfully obvious, accompanied by a lecherous wink, but you felt your face flush anyway, ridiculously charmed by his brazenness.

Charlie ended up kicking the four of you out, insisting on sweeping before the sun came up. On the way up the stairs, conspicuously a few steps behind Nate and MacReady, the two of you got a bit too handsy, after you'd spent the last couple of minutes petting the velvet of his coat, hypnotized by the luxurious softness of the ancient costume, as Hancock rattled off history facts about Boston, some of which you'd half remembered from history class.

"Found the old fucker's diary in a closet on the second floor," He'd said, as your fingers traced down his arms, across his chest, barely disguised fascination. You wanted to steal his hat, tuck it onto your hair, flick it the way Hancock often did.

"That old bastard was– was kinkier than you could ever imagine," His voice stuttered as your fingers traced near his navel, studying the stitching on the waistcoats he wore.

"Oh yeah?" You snickered, loose enough with drinks to lose your impulse control chasing after whatever felt good in the moment. Mostly that had been cigarettes, but now it was the idea of kissing him, of feeling that mouth on you, anywhere.

"The mayor of Goodneighbor," You breathed, smoothing out his collar, "Keeping himself busy with five hundred year old porn."

Hancock laughed with you.

Outside, the two of you stumbled apart, leaning against the brick wall to share a cigarette, Nate and MacReady somehow still talking, even if Nate was shooting you curious glances and MacReady smirked every time your eyes passed over him.

Eventually, though, when a too loud sentence awoke a grumbling drifted who threatened to hurl a bottle at Nate, it was time to call it a night.

Nate clapped Hancock on the shoulder and kissed your cheek, which got him a punch on the arm, a bit harder than you meant to with the alcohol in your system. He took it like a champ, of course, calling out, "Have fun!" As he rounded the corner towards the Rexford.

MacReady vanished with a tip of his cap, leaving you with smoke in your mouth and the morning sun in your eyes.

"You want to take that tour now, doll?" The brush of a teasing hand over your lower back.

You thought about your dusty apartment, of waking up in a few hours to repeat the same shift for the millionth time. A cold bed, empty.

"Yeah," You breathed, hand catching on the fluttering sash around Hancock's waist, setting a firm pace and tugging him along with you like a dog on his leash. His hands found your hips before you even made it to the door, pinning you against the old wood to kiss you, deep and warm and wet. Your arms slid around his neck, pulling him closer, till you stood hip-to-hip, chest-to-chest.

Somehow, one of you got the door open, falling through the door, walking each other in an embrace towards the staircase. The kiss deepened, Hancock licked into your mouth as you bumped into the banister, struggled to keep your balance.You let him lead, pushing you backwards up the stairs, hands always gentle, ready to catch you if you tripped.

It was a drunken fumble, your shirt rucked up, trying to get all his stupid buttons unbuttoned as you staggered to the stairs, his lips suddenly attached to your neck.

His hands moved to your exposed waist as you reached the second floor, greedy hands moving over the expanse of skin. You huffed against his mouth, finding it unfair as you struggled to even get under his ridiculous fucking shirt, finally managing to sneak a hand under it, nails gently scratching against rough skin. You weren't exactly versed in Ghoul anatomy, but you'd heard enough complaining from drifters at the bar about the lack of feeling in their skin to know you'd have to push a little deeper, press a little harder. Sure enough, as Hancock lead you stumbling towards his bedroom, you pushed your hand up to his chest, pressing down into the meat of one of his shoulders, you received a deep groan against your mouth.

Then suddenly you were in the Mayor's bedroom. Clean enough, by the wasteland standards. Strewn with chems, as you'd anticipated, but the bed looked as clean as you could be.

Hancock had ended up behind you, hands sneaking around to your ass, your collar pushed to the side so he could kiss the exposed skin of your shoulder. It felt... nice. Soft. Softer than you'd anticipated from him. It sent an ache through you, not to your core, though electricity tingled, desperate for attention you hadn't provided it with in years. The ache was in your heart, extending out to your lungs, stealing your breath the way his kisses had, as he gently guided you towards the bed.

You spun around in his arms to capture his lips again, nipping at his bottom lips, hands moving to his waist, sneaking down into his waistband. The two of you danced around the room, lips locked, hands moving as clothes were unbuttoned, tossed to the side, shoes pulled off.

Then you were naked, falling onto a surprisingly plush mattress, as Hancock dropped his coat onto the back of his desk chair, pants unbuttoned and half falling off his skinny hips. He left the hat on, even as he stripped everything else off, and it made you huff a quiet, airy giggle. He grinned back at you, always happy to be happy, as he crawled on top of you, bracketing you between his legs.

His dick was the same as the rest of him, scarred and pocked, but you found you didn't mind in the slightest as your hands wandered downwards, teasingly gentle touches running over him, drawing out airy breaths and groans.

You were quick to guide him into you, pulling him down for a kiss when he entered you, sending shocks of burning pain through you, uncomfortable but manageable. Still, he noticed, unfocused eyes blinking down at you, a frown on his face.

"What's wrong?" "Nothing's wrong," You breathed, even through the tension of your muscles, "Just– uh– been a while. Gimme a moment."

He seemed unsure for a moment, looking as if he wanted to pull out, but you forced a calm through your muscles, slowly feeling him inch his way further inside, until the two of you were hip to hip. You breathed through the sting, shutting your eyes and guiding his face to your neck, happy when he got the hint and nipped at your skin. Your breath got shaky when he found a perfect spit by the junction of your neck and your shoulder, feeling his teeth sink into the flesh, soothed quickly with his tongue, with his spit-slick lips.

"Okay," You breathed eventually, one hand holding the back of his neck, the other clutching at the muscle on his back, "You can move."

"Are you–"

"Hancock," You said, voice firm. In a more sober state, his caution would touch you, but you were desperate to feel the drag of him, to feel his hips working. "I'm a big girl, it's okay. You can move."

He bent down to kiss you as he slowly pulled his hips back. With conscious effort to keep your muscles calm, your side of the kiss was a bit half hearted, but you gasped into his mouth as he pushed back in, the stretch not painful but, "So fucking perfect," You breathed, "Just like that."

Hancock was amazingly receptive, somehow cataloging every moan and twitch, and he had you pushed into the mattress within minutes, gasping and shaking beneath him. His hips drove into you at a perfect pace, his mouth moving to your tits, gentle bites at the soft skin, pulling your nipples into his mouth to flick at them with his tongue. Your whispered words of direction quickly dissolving into moans and gasps of his name.

Almost the exact second the thought of your clit popped into your head, his fingers were there, moving tight circles, pressure just the right side of too hard. You arched into him, a moan so loud it would have made you self conscious if you weren't too focused on driving him deeper, getting him closer, getting as much of his skin on you as you could.

Your orgasm approached with mounting tension in your muscled, strangled cries of more, harder, "Please, John."

You came with a strangled cry, every muscle in your body tensing and then going completely limp, gasps of air as your peak faded, replaced by a pleasant buzzing sensations. John's pace slowed as you shook, hands leaving your clit to grab at your hips, pull you towards him as he chased his own release. You were happy to let him, your hands exploring him leisurely, gripping at his biceps, his shoulders, wrapping around his neck to guide him into another kiss.

You could tell when he got close, the way his hips jerked, thrusts growing rushed and sloppy, desperate, the way his breath quickened, the way his dark eyes seemed to darken even further. At the last moment, he pulled out, wrapping his hand around his cock, haphazard pace the same as he fucked into his fist, a few more pumps and he came over your stomach. You tensed under the surprising heat of it, but relished the soft groan that escaped his mouth, head tilted back, mouth open,

He half collapsed on top of you, breathing against your mouth, only his arms holding him from falling into you. With every inhale, his expanding chest brushed against your breasts, every touch sending electric shots through you.

He collapsed beside you, still panting, one arm curling around your chest, just under your tits, pulling you into his side. "Just– give me a second, I'll get you something to clean up."

"Mmm," You breathed, relishing the heat of him, positive he was warmer than a normal person, the way it radiated off him, heating your skin at the contact points, "Don't worry about it. Deal with it in the morning." Your words were slurring, eyelids heavy.

"Mmm," Hancock agreed, tucking his face into your shoulder. He held you tight, like little kids held onto teddy bears. It was... nice. Unfamiliar to you, but, as you buried your head into the soft pillow, you supposed it was something you wouldn't mind getting used to.

You woke with a start, unfamiliar footsteps thudding above your head. It took a moment to reorient yourself, to recognize the walls you were blinking at, the hand tucked around your waist, the soft snores in your ear. Your head thudded, your mouth dry as a desert, tasting like cigarettes and whiskey. 

"Shit," You whispered, slowly extracting yourself from Hancock's warm arms, getting to your feet. Stark naked. Your pants were slung over a chair, one sock still in the pant leg, the other tossed onto a desk, surrounded by several tins of mentats and empty jet canisters.

"Fuck," You breathed, hopping around trying to get your socks on. One of your boots was on its side, halfway under the bed. Your shirt was hanging on the fucking doorknob and you tugged it on, ignoring the stale smell of sweat and alcohol that clung to it from last night’s shift.

You swept the room, but couldn't for the life of you find your underwear. The thought of leaving them somewhere was mortifying, but when Hancock shifted in the bed, you decided not to risk staying. You pulled your boots on, leaving them unlaced as you crept over the ancient floorboards. Seeing as Hancock was managing to sleep through the ruckus of the drifters on the top floor, you doubted the creak of the house would wake him, but you were still extra cautious as you cracked the bedroom doors open, just enough for you to slip through and rush down the staircase, pointedly not looking at any of the Neighborhood Watch.

Out in the semi-fresh morning air, you took a deep breath, mumbling another curse to yourself as you began a quick jog home, trying to avoid any knowing glances as you rounded a corner and shouldered the door to your apartment building open.

Shower, underwear, find Nate, get him to ask Hancock for the caps while you cowered in the background with sunglasses and a baseball cap over a dark hoodie. Fuck.

The shower was cold, obviously, and you counted your blessings for having running water at all, even if it was a bit too irradiated for comfort. You did your best to scrub fast, hands brushing through sweaty, greasy hair, soaping the necessary areas. You very pointedly did not linger on the dried, flaking cum on your stomach, exorcizing it with a washcloth and curses.

You were busy drying your hair with your dirty shirt, because whenever the water lingered too long it left an uncomfortable sheen over your hair and smelled a bit like a bog. A knock sounded at the door, sending ice through your veins, a response equivalent to the roar of a Deathclaw or the clicking of a Mirelurk.

For a moment, you contemplated crawling onto the rusty fire-escape outside your living room window and walking into downtown Boston to let some Super Mutants eat you.

Instead, though, you stepped over to the door, moments quiet as you contemplated what the fuck you were going to say. Last night was a mistake. You're my boss. I haven't had sex in two years and I'm sorry for leading you on, can I please have my panties back?

Another knock startled you out of your thoughts, fast and panicked, followed by the call of your name from a voice that definitely did not belong to Hancock.

You opened the door to a panting Nate, already back in his suit and armor, gun tossed over his shoulder.

"Nate?"

"Hey! Have fun last night?"

You flushed, even though his expression was nothing but kind; curious and happy for you, like a good friend should be.

"Uh. What's with the get up?" You deflected, which Nate took in stride.

"Distress call from the Minutemen, they asked me to head out west to Graygarden."

"The... farm run by robots?"

"Oh, that's what it is?"

"Wh- Never mind. What are you doing there?"

"Something about the water supply and Super Mutants. I'm leaving in a few minutes"

"Okay, that's fine, I'll drag someone else with me to Diamond City, no stress."

"No, I want you to come with me."

You blinked, hand tensing on the door frame, "Nate I'm not a fighter."

"Yes you are," He said, looking so genuinely confused it made your heart seize a bit, "We fought together. At Anchorage. Did you forget?"

"No, I didn't–" You swallowed. 

After returning home, witnessing massacre after massacre, you'd sworn to yourself you wouldn't get involved in that kind of shit. Even after the world ended, you'd managed to keep that promise. At night, alone in your cold bed, you could still hear the hissing of sentry bots, the creaking of power armor, the whistling of bullets. "I don't do that anymore, Nate."

Nate pulled one of his more serious faces, a rare sight for a man with seemingly endless drive and relentless optimism, even after losing more than you could imagine.

"Look. I understand what you're feeling–" You took a breath to interrupt him, because his blind patriotism had driven him forward when you'd lagged behind, weighed down by the blood on your hands. Nate pushed forward, "I know you don't believe me, but I really do. And nothing helped me heal those wounds like helping people."

"Helping robots." Your voice was flat.

"Who provide food for over a dozen settlements. You'd be doing good."

You bit your lip, casting your eyes over your apartment to avoid the earnest look in Nate's eyes. Sure, you were... content in your life. Goodneighbor was as safe as any settlement could be, you had steady income, some sort of purpose. But you remembered the day Nate had walked into the Third Rail with Nick Valentine on his heels, bleary eyed, vault suit still pristine. The way your heart had sung, the way an aching loneliness you'd felt since coming off the ice had faded.

Was this what the rest of your life would be? Slinging drinks, small talk with coworkers and bar patrons, waiting for the next time Nate would walk in through the doors like some yearning wife waiting for her husband to return from war?

Besides, you weren't going to be able from Hancock in his own fucking town, not for long.

You shut your eyes, feeling the phantom weight of a gun in your hands.

"Fuck. Fine."

The smile on Nate's face was like a kid's at Christmas.

"Great! I'll meet you at the front entrance in..." He glanced down at his pip-boy, "Thirty minutes?"

"Okay."

And he was off, leaving you standing in your doorway, blinking at nothing wondering what the fuck you'd agreed to.

Under your bed there were some loose floorboards you'd been using to store the important things. Your spare caps, your vault suit and pip-boy, your 10mm pistol and your combat shotgun. The former was familiar to you, used centuries ago in a war no one understood anymore. You'd grabbed it on your stumbling way out of the vault, and it was a good thing to or you would have gotten gored by some very territorial mole rats before even making it to a settlement. The shotgun had been stolen, in your trek to downtown Boston, taken off a raider you'd knocked out with a lead pipe. He'd clearly made some adjustments to it, with a hair trigger, less recoil than expected and a scope you'd never needed to use. You'd been meaning to sell it since you'd gotten in, but it had ended up in the floorboards where you'd simply hoped it would stay unless you were strapped for cash.

A knapsack was quickly filled with everything you needed, a change of clothes, a portable water purifier, all the food that would go to waste if you didn't take it with you. You tucked some spare caps into a hidden inside pocket, wrapping them in cloth to keep them from rattling. Your spare 10mm ammo, a few packs of cigarettes, a lighter, a flashlight.

The pistol was strapped into a thigh holster, a gun belt held your shotgun rounds. The shotgun went around your shoulder. They felt heavier than you remembered them being, their weight an oppressive reminder with every step you took out of your apartment. You'd need to let Charlie know you wouldn't be in for a while, and you'd need to stop by KL-E-0's for some spare parts. Easy enough, it was just the matter of avoiding certain tricorn-hat wearing mayors.

You kept your head down as you made your way through the street. You cut a more imposing figure with your armor, with the glint of weapons. People moved out of your way as you jogged towards the Third Rail, sliding in through the door like a mouse darting into its burrow.

You rattled like a tin can chime as you walked down the steps to the bar, announcing your approach before you could be seen, a cat with a bell. You were skittish, pausing at the last step to peek into the lounge, trying to spot a red coat, a familiar smile. Coast was clear.

"That the new uniform, then?" Charlie's voice nearly sent you flying, a squeak leaving you as the Mr. Handy suddenly appeared in view. The three eyes didn't exactly convey emotion well, but you could hear the dry amusement in his tone, maybe a hint of judgement.

"No, I uh–" You shook yourself, loosening the cotton in your brain, "Nate asked me to accompany him on a mission. Shouldn't take more than a week."

"Seven days and I'll file a missing person's report." Dry, dry, dry.

"Right," You breathed, gripping the banister like a life line, "Right. I appreciate the uh– The thought, Charlie. I'll see you around." Saliva filled your mouth, and you had a second to panic about throwing up on the floor as your stomach rolled, before the feeling faded.

Charlie didn't dignify you with a response, going right back to... whatever it was he did when the bar was closed, so you turned around, rattling right back up the stairs. First vacation in two years.

Again, you kept your head down as you walked through the alley towards Kill or Be Killed, pointedly avoiding letting your gaze slip to the Old State House, like the building itself would summon him. Something burned in your chest, not quite shame, but the next thing to it. In another life, you would've considered chewing on a baby aspirin, kept the landline in view, ready to dial 911, if you were having a heart attack. Now, though, you shrugged it off, grabbing your canteen and taking a greedy drink, washing away the cigarette taste that still lingered in your mouth.

KL-E-0 was in her usual place, piercing red eye landing on you.

"Well, don't you look dressed to kill."

You'd wondered, sometimes, if she had been especially programmed to sound so sultry, or if it was just her natural charm.

"Heading out for a while," You dug your bag of caps out of your pocket, placing it on the table as your eyes roamed over the wares available, "Think you could spare some grenades and shotgun shells?"

"Let's get you outfitted, killer."

The word left a sour taste in your mouth that had nothing to do with the cigarettes. You made it through the trade quickly, enough ammo to last you several encounters, enough grenades to get you through a couple rough spots. You left with your pockets lighter, your bandolier, pack and shoulders weighed down.

"Have fun, baby."

"Yeah, thanks, Kleo."

Nate was standing by the entrance, a respectable distance from the Neighborhood Watch, a focused frown on his face as he fiddled with his Pip-boy. He looked up when you approached, frown turning to a bright smile.

"So," you said, shouldering your gun, "Ready to head off?"

"Not quite, we're still waiting on the rest of the party. You know how he is, always fashionably late."

You didn't manage to get out your confused "Who?" Before a familiar hand was clapping Nate on the shoulder, saying, "So! Ready to get this show on the road?"

Fuck.

Notes: This is so insanely self indulgent it’s crazy, but I do hope you enjoyed at least a little <3

[bonefall]

How did palefoot make it to Starclan, I thought you needed a proper burial in order to get a fetcher? Especially since his body was hidden. Did he just happen to get lucky and they found him before he got his spirit trapped in the dark forest?

Also, him then becoming the patron of finding bodies is a bit funny, like a car crash victim becoming the patron of surviving car crashes. Then again, you can't really complain about getting prayers I guess.

Nope, BB!Cats don't need a proper burial to get to StarClan! It's just extremely disrespectful from the living, and denies the family a chance to grieve since they can't sit vigil and share tongues with their loved one. It's a deeply malicious mortal action.

Also LMAO yeah Clan cats are brutal with their ironic patrons. They love it. It's exactly like how Catholic saints become the patrons of things related to their insane deaths or just straightup insults. Like Saint Elmo who is the patron of tummy aches because they gutted him like a fish. Or how Saint Drogo who was allegedly so ugly he is now the patron saint of the unattractive (and also coffee).

Quick dribble on Fetchers;

Their basics are covered over in StarClan 101

Fetchers can be anyone. They're usually a family member, or a guardian angel, but there's no hard rules with Forest Four.

SkyClan DOES have a hard rule; Cloudstar is the "Grim Reaper" for SkyClan, in what he feels is repentance for his time as the Rat Leader. He is their only Fetcher.

They have to come down and find your spirit. Some Fetchers are better at this-- just because they have a better sense of when death is near, or they were nearby, or they were fast, or you invoked them shortly before the death, etc.

It's possible to run away from your Fetcher if you want, or hide.

BUT, Dark Forest cats can ALSO Fetch you.

In the case of cursed bloodlines like the Appledusk Lineage, very strong fetchers are sent who can fight the rival demon effectively.

Flametail was immediately dragged down to the Dark Forest because of this. That wasn't an accident; they killed him and then kidnapped his soul.

RiverClan cats believe that if your Fetcher doesn't come for you, Ripwater will find you first and bring you to the Dark Forest.

You NEED a Fetcher to get to StarClan. If you are a spirit who looks for StarClan on your own, you will find the Meadow of Young Stars first, and then the Dark Forest.

When you die, you usually get "knocked out." Your Fetcher can bring you to StarClan while you're still asleep, making it seem like you "woke up in Silverpelt"

However it IS possible to die awake. You will suddenly not feel the pain of your injury. It's extremely alarming.

So, Palefoot was able to get to StarClan. It actually did take the Fetchers a while to find him though. He was killed and buried very quickly, and it took him a while to wake up and realize he'd been shoved in a bog. He didn't realize he was dead at first, he thought he'd just been beaten up and thrown in the mud.

He wasn't really taking it in that he was kinda numb, and in spite of being in the autumn bog for a while, he wasn't cold. It wasn't until he got back to the camp that he realized no one was responding to him, and then it hit him that he didn't need to breathe anymore.

(I like to keep the rules 'loose' for situations like that, lmao)

[katsus-world]

I love the idea of fantasy!bakugou who takes his s/o out in a forest. 🥹

Heavy boots crush fallen leaves, twigs snap and break as he takes the lead. Making sure nothing happens or comes in touch with you. Fingers interlocking with yours so that you’re close to him.

“Katsuki we’re dirty! We can’t go back and your parents see us, me, like this!” You grumble, worried about making a wrong impression so early into the arranged marriage.

“You worry too much! They don’t care if we come back lookin’ like this! As long as we’re not bloody and bruised, you’ll be alright.” Katsuki huffs as he continues to walk. He feels your eyes bore holes into his skull, but ignores it. He likes to see you frustrated.

“I’m being serious kat! You’re used to being dirty I’m not!” You yanked your hand away as you crossed your arms. His gaze turned to look at you with sharp eyes, annoyed at the fact that your touch wasn’t on him anyone.

“Shitty women, then whaddaya’ wanna do?? You wanna go take a fuckin’ bath in a lake or something?” He growled as he walked closer to you, his large figure looming over you. You smiled as he scowled, eyebrow jumping at the question.

“Y’know that doesn’t sound bad.. can we?” You replied coolly as you looked around, obvious that the river wasn’t going to just pop out of nowhere.

“No, stop being dramatic.” He said flat as he pulled your hand back into his.

“Hey I’m being serious! Let’s go swimming!”

“You’re being ridiculous! We don’t have time for that shit!”

“We’re not doing anything today except this!” He cursed something under his breath, head throwing back as he looked at the sky.

“Fine! Fuck fine! If you find a lake, we’ll swim. Now go find one sweetheart.” He said with an irritated grin, knowing that there was no lake close by.

“Fine! Watch me.” You said as you held your head up high.

30 minutes passed and you finally heard water rushing and crashing into some rocks, your eyes widened at the beautiful sight of green patchy grass and various flowers with different color rocks. Some having little black and pink crystals lodged deep inside the hard stones.

“Katsuki I’m stripping!” You said with a laugh as your shirt fell to the ground.

“Might as well, I’ll kill anyone who comes near though.” Katsuki took off his large leather boots with a thud, his lingering eyes looking at you with heavy lids.

Your body was created by the gods, he thought as he took you in. Each curve and dip, every little mark and scar. Handcrafted by the gods themselves.

“So’ fuckin pretty.” He rasped as he watched you slip in the water, your laugh flowing like a melody as the water crashed into the rocks, small fishes danced around you as you continued to swim further down the stream.

“Ay! Don’t go too far! The current is gonna get you!” Katsuki’s heart skipped several beats as he saw how the water watched you up cleanly. Skin smooth and glowing in the hot sun.

“Katsuki hurry up!” You called out as your head went below the surface, then coming back up a second later, your mouth parted slightly as in gasping air.

“I’m right here. Quit going ahead of me.” His hand met your hips as he pulled you against him. His heart rate speeding up at the feeling of your bare skin against his.

“Sorry, I can’t help it! I need to see everything.” You smiled up as him with a gentle grin. Katsuki lowered himself as his lips met your forehead.

“Let’s go then.”

:3:3:3:3:3:3:3:33:3:33 :3:3:3:3:3:3:3:33:3:33 :3:3:3

LMAO IM STILL ALIVE!! I’ve finally made more time to write!!! Anyways not proof read, sorry for any misspelling!!

[dilatorywriting]

Hi!

I love Siren Vil!!! 😭😭😭💜💜💜 Could I please be tagged?

Also I think we all agree that MC just accidentally proposed to Vil OOPS lmao I’m sure that won’t cause any misunderstandings 👀😅😂

But also… am I the only one side-eyeing the octopus like

“WHY YOU KEEP SHOWING UP, HUH?! WHAT DO YOU KNOW?! WHO DO YOU KNOW?! ARE WE GONNA GET AN AZUL CAMEO AND GET MC TURNED INTO A SIREN TO BE WITH VIL ALA REVERSE LITTLE MERMAID AT THE END OF THIS?! IS THAT WHAT IS DANGEROUS ABOUT THE SEA WRECK?! IS AZUL HIDING IN THERE?! WHAT IS YOUR PURPOSE LITTLE OCTOPUS?! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS!!!” 🐙

🤣🤣🤣🤣

I'll see if I can try, but the tags are closed just because there were so many that tumblr would just like, snipe my posts and crash the page when I would try and put them up lol

But lolol that poor lil octopus is having the roughest time--trapped in a wade pool with a maniac feeding him shredded fish and talking to him like a therapist. he deserves to be Freed

[thatdeadaquarius]

@goldensunsetchild Asked:

Hello there! I know that you might be busy right now but I wanted to let you know an idea that I have, greatly inspired by your post: spanish reader who gets homesick but instead of getting depressed by it starts to do things they used to do back on their world. Dancing to their traditional dances while singing their accompanying songs, teaching the children the games they used to play when they were younger and also telling folktales to everyone who is interested in listening to. If you decide to do this idea and want to incorporate things from Costa Rica, please let me know and I'll help you with anything you need (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

(Content under cut)

HELLO YES SORRY IT TOOK ME SO DAMN LONG TO GET TO THIS!! 😭 /gen

I went to Costa Rica back in highschool in 2018? I think, and when I tell you I FELL IN LOVEEEE <3333

Costa Rica is a beautiful country and everyone was really nice, vibes were immaculate 🤌 ✨

☆

Sun: Costa Rican Reader! (you/they/them)

Stars: Sumeru cast

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: None known & Trigger Warnings: alcohol usage/drinking game.

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

☆

when u first crash landed in Teyvat, people luckily recognized you from when u were a player!

and u took in whatever culture and traditions everyone was so excited to show you as they were kind enough to give u clothes/food/shelter etc.

butttt… it did get overwhelming after a few months, and u got homesick more and more often :(

after all there wasn’t really an equivalent country to Costa Rica, and you couldn’t just take a plane back home, you were stuck here for… however long it takes someone to leave a video game universe??

You decided to actually do smth abt the crippling depression and “outsider” feelings instead of just rotting away, and went to Sumeru to get closer to the greenery of your home,

it made you feel a little better, but it could be the best, so u decide to lowkey force everyone in Sumeru to convert to Costa Rican LMAO

so ofc u did the most logical thing to convert ppl to a culture, the food!

u helped fund a small restaurant full of classic Costa Rican foods (coughandsoyoucaneatitwheneveryouwantcough)

(u still have the insane mora leftover from what u had in game so ur basically one of the richest ppl in Teyvat ngl 💀)

u recreated just the basic gallo pinto/casado with what was available (some beans from Natlan and rice from Inazuma/Liyue, the Ajilenakh nut from Sumeru acc kinda acts like plantains :0 and local fish/greens for salad)

Needless to say Sumeru is fascinated by the new cuisine and esp since its not a secret that you’ve funded it/made the menu from your homeworld

Alhaitham orders the casado most of the time bc he “admires the exact proportions, its all the nutrients you need, perfectly balanced” NERDDD

Tighnari likes barbudos bc there's not a lot of egg dishes in Sumeru but there are a lot of greens, so he “likes the familiar in unique combinations!”

unsurprisingly, Cyno likes Chancelta bc he can pick it up, eat it quickly, and go on with his patrol

Collei, Kaveh (and secretly Dehya lol) really like being able to munch and snack on sugar cane, (and the plantain imitation desserts!)

(u found sugarcane deep in sumeru forests, it was like on ur world, but sweet flowers sprouted out of the stalks too!)

You decide the next phase was to introduce dances and other fun stuff!!

Nilou was literally shaking with excitement to learn the traditional dances <3 (and also getting ur permission to add fun twists or Sumeru elements to them)

the kids that like to hang around and watch the troupe practice (and join) absolutely got obsessed with swing criollo, it was so cute to watch them all pair up and kinda trip over their own feet trying the footwork out

(u may or may not have teared up bc the band learned how to play a Spanish song for u guys to dance to, just for you)

teaching the theater troupes musicians how to adapt upbeat songs like Caballito Nicoyano or Ticas Lindas

omg getting Nilou Kaveh Faruzan Cyno Dehya (and Dunyazard!) to do the calipso limonense always cheers you up, (which is why they are so eager to do it when ur feeling homesick ❤️‍🩹)

Kaveh steps on too many people’s toes, Dehya gets dizzy from the spins/turns easily, Faruzan keeps spinning for too long, Nilou and Dunyazard are actually secretly latina bc they're so good at it (did they outdo you?? no, no they couldn't possibly-)

and Cyno just really likes the little dance line everyone makes lol

speaking of the General Mahamatra

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

u CANNOT teach Cyno a new game from your home country, and expect him to NOT be the most competitive mf in Teyvat abt it

that's actually how u spread any games from back home, Cyno just does all the work for you and challenges ppl to things like jackses and no one knows what it is

which he then proceeds to strong arm them into learning and beat their asses at it

(yes Cyno wins against you a lot, sorry lmao)

You definitely had a drinking game centered around it one time and the consequences changed with each person who lost

like Cyno had to learn how to cook tamales that were edible, and more importantly..

Alhaitham had to at least attempt the swing criollo lol

(was it unfairly attractive? maybe. was watching Nilou, who was teaching him, and Alhaitham both do swing criollo 2x as attractive?? that's just for u and the Sumeru vision users to know)

SPEAKING OF ALHAITHAM

absolutely hilarious, yet also impressive?? how quickly he picked up ur slang

smug bastard picked it up based off sheer context/vibes too, u didn't even explain it to him, just u trying to go sit down in ur Costa Rican restaurant and he pulls u back before someone mows u down saying “hey, suave un toque-”

YOUR NECK FUCKING CRACKING BC U WHIPPED AROUND TO LOOK AT HIM SO FAST LMAOOO

(ngl u scared the fuck out of the poor scholar before he got all smug abt knowing slang)

accidentally spread this knowledge to other vision users bc he got in the habit of casually using it, tbh more often when ur not around lol (Alhaitham being caught having habits bc he's fond of other ppl?? never)

his favorite is “qué chante…😒 ” obv lol

so now the forest rangers use stuff like pura vida and tuanis sending each other off on patrols! Collei so cutely excited to explain to other Sumeru ppl or tourists where the words come from and what they mean, spreading ur Costa Rica agenda very well 👌

and the mahamatra like to use “Jale pa’la choza” when coming back from the desert to Sumeru city homebase! :)

ALSO bonus:

u absolutely got leyendas into the bedtime warning/ghost stories of the entirety of Sumeru children lmao

u start spooking kids like Dori (Nahida finds them fascinating)

and after awhile u notice Cyno and Dehya mentioning watching out at night for La Llorona or los cadejos 💀??

like you've genuinely made them paranoid, bc they wanna be sweethearts and protect you from them, like even if they don't believe they exist, they're worried you do and are trying to make u feel better lol <3

☆

an iced coffee? for me?? :O 

Blessed be Costa Rica, such a lovely country when I went, and as soon as I got off the plane coming back the first thing I did was make a Costa Rican meal the best I could

like got my mom to prep from dry black beans and rice etc. as fresh as we could get (nowhere near costa rica level btw) and made fresh guac and fried plantain chips and salmon I think? literally cooked the first night back bc I knew I missed the food already/knew id get sick

and I was RIGHT, that food I made was fine, but any other American food so bad I got nauseous

I literally got sick COMING BACK TO THE U.S like 😨???!!! I knew it was bad but not THAT bad lmao

and the first meal I had after that was still a homecooked meal, like my mom made it💀

love the coffee from there too, we even ordered coffee from the farm we visited when I got back to US it was so good (10x better than American obv)

THANK YOU BTW GOLDEN!! FOR BEING SO PATIENT AND LOVELY TELLING ME ALL ABT COSTA RICA <3333

I hope this did some amount of justice to ur beautiful home! :)

Safe Travels Golden Child,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/specifically this AU/fandom, please!")

♡my beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!! (Yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (Next)

(Part seven lmao)

Sometimes Danny hated being right. Mentally he cursed himself as he clamored into his lifepod. The Aurora was spilling radiation into the water just like predicted it would. A damaged drive core... That didn't bode well for him or the local wildlife. He was a Fenton! He knew the terminology for "This might blow up," in every language, no matter how needlessly complicated you said it.

A radiation suit would be helpful when the ship blew up, if not for him, then for the other survivors. Danny grew up surrounded by radioactive material, he was about as fucked up as one could get, but there was still time left for the other survivors. If there even were any left.

Shaking his head, Danny opened the storage plucking out the remaining Creepvine clusters, and started fabricating. It was hypnotic, Creepvine clusters to lubricant, copper and mushrooms to a battery and copper wire all that and a piece of titanium gave Danny a functioning Seaglide. The device was heavy, the PDA altering the blueprint so it was usable for him.

Opening the hatch up, eager to test his new toy out, Danny dove back into the water faster than ever before. Propellers spun at speeds that would chop his finger clean off if he touched them. A glowing map at the top and a flashlight he could turn off by squeezing the handles. Quick enough to keep up with the peepers while still being able to make quick sharp turns.

The Device whirled as he swam in circles, up, down, left, right, zigzag! Through coral tubes, around stone arches till he got dizzy, divebombing fish and kicking up sand.

"Congratulations, survivor. you have exceeded your weekly exercise quotient by 500 percent. Data indicates that swimming was your favorite activity,"

Heck yeah it was! Swimming is great! He's fast as hell man, radiation could eat shit! Stalkers wouldn't stand a chance, he'd just outpace them! Swimming around, breaking outcrops, and taking samples of table coral for a computer chip. Danny was having a blast!

In time he would have the materials to fabricate a habitat builder and in turn a super cool sea base! A home away from home while he's stuck outside federation space. Currently, the seabase blueprints he had were...limited, but he could work with that!

Rushing to his fabricator the blue lights felt agonizingly slow as he bounced on the heels of his feet, flippers squeaking against the floor. A habitat builder fell into Danny's impatient hands.

Back in the water, Danny scoped out the area. Access to an abundance of resources, food, and water was a necessity. Along with awareness of local predators. The shallows are a perfect place for him to build right now. A temp base to rest and store stuff before moving somewhere more convenient as he explored and met up with any of the other survivors.

Deciding to test out his new tool, Danny placed down a basic compartment. A tiny little tube that would've been big enough if he only needed a place to sleep. Yeah, that wasn't going to work. How was he supposed to pace aimlessly while he wrote notes? How was he supposed to work and live in a high-tech pool noodle? Disassembling the pathetic tube, Danny swam through the shallows plucking up the quartz needed for glass. More materials would be needed to build his base. Thankfully, he’d crashed in a ship made from and carrying the materials he needed. Danny saw no moral issue with “borrowing” titanium from supply crates light enough to lift, but the PDA seemed to have a small issue with it. With a few minutes of tinkering, it was easy to change the machine’s artificial mind.

A loop, he was going to make a base shaped like a zero because that’s how many fucks he gave about Alterra’s dumb rule. Placed upon foundations was the start of his perfect space base. The sides of the Zero became glass compartments, a perfect place to observe the local wildlife. Solar panels mounted jumpstarted the oxygen production, lights blinding when they snapped on. Fish drifted by his base, some ducking underneath his foundations settling comfortably in the shade provided. Maybe if he was here long enough, he’d grow some plants for fish to nibble on?

A hatch was placed on the front of the Zero, finally giving him access to his new base. Cold air punched him in the face as he stepped inside, but it was a welcome attack. Air conditioning at last! Throwing himself to the floor, Danny giggled, noise bouncing against barren walls. A sterile smell cycled through the base with the air filtered in. Like his parent's lab or a hospital room freshly sanitized. Familiar, it smelled like home.

Peeling off his flippers, Danny propped them against the wall. Bare feet against metal floors, Danny took to running through the loop. Brushing his hands against empty walls, he ran laps like it was gym class. The only difference was this wasn't gym class, so it didn't feel like hell. Several laps ran throughout his base until his breath ran out, and he collapsed to the floor.

Winded and panting, he glanced around his base mentally, planning where everything would go. Blueprints were limited, but brainpower wasn't. Making new blueprints for shelving units or a bed should be easy enough. The hard part would be finding the space for it. If he tinkered with the PDA, he could fabricate some blankets and pillows that he could sleep on and store away when he was awake.

First things first, he needed to get a fabricator and some storage set up. A few wall lockers on each side of the fabricator made his little crafting station. His base still felt bare. White walls would get boring real fast. No paint or paper he could use to decorate. No stickers or wallpaper to paint his base to match the stars. Untapped Potential, something to add to his to-do list. If he couldn't decorate anything else, changing the locker's text font would have to do.

Walking in a loop, Danny muttered, his brain working better than his mouth. Words failed, coming out jumbled if they were more than one or two easy syllables. Fangs created a lisp that'd get him verbally castrated if he was back at Casper. That was if he didn't maul them with his newfound face knives. Like a piranha, he was dangerous! Fierce!

Tap...Tap...Tap

Feet freezing, Danny turned to the window, heart jumping to his throat. Several glowing eyes stared back at him, burning a hole into his soul. Stripes of colors ranging from blue, purple, and forest green ran along its massive scaly body and dragon-like head. Two razor-sharp fangs poked out of a closed mouth. Arms glowing blue that faded to pitch black when reaching its four-fingered hands, each claw sharper than a sword. Hands, oh ancients, why does this one have hands? The other one didn't have hands! Curled up, it would be the same size as his base. Danny pointed his scanner at the guy, the results striking terror into the deepest depths of his core...

What the fuck do you mean this guy's a juvenile!?!

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim

[1425fivefive]

Maxcar and carcar for the ship game!!!

Amazing, two of my favorite ships for entirely different reasons.

Maxcar - makes sense, compels me

I love Max and Oscar as a ship. It took Grill the Grid to get me interested (I became convinced Max would have a crush on Oscar for out nerd-ing him in Grill the Grid) and then I was LOCKED IN.

I find them to be really similar in a lot of fun ways. Both absolutely love racing, love the history of the sport, probably would prefer it not to be the media circus it is. I also think they’re both extremely competitive in the same intense way, both cope with pressure very well. If you haven’t, read “Eat Them Alive” by @drivestraight, it’s just like … every single thing I find compelling about Maxcar.

CarCar - doesn’t make sense, compels me

CARCAR. The ship that fully got me into writing F1 rpf. They don’t make sense, they have barely any interactions, they crash all the time, and yet I’m obsessed. But because they don’t interact, I literally had to set them in an a/b/o AU in Sexy to Someone to force them to interact lmao. Little dialogue snippet from that fic that captures what I love about them:

Though Oscar stayed silent, Carlos grinned, clearly noticing Oscar’s admiring gaze.

“You think I am attractive, no?” Carlos asked.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Carlos, stop fishing for compliments. It’s not a good look on you.”

“Everything looks good on me,” Carlos said. He then had the audacity to wink at Oscar.

Oscar groaned and covered his face with his hands. “Fuck, I forgot how annoying you are.”

“Yes, yes, I am very annoying,” Carlos said. "Now let me make you come again.”

Ship ask game here