#no one told me how emotional op is

[lawsbbygirl]

I’m 500 chapters into my first read of One Piece and I’ve sobbed uncontrollably around 50 times.

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

Sometimes I forget how sensitive I am and then something really tiny upsets me and I’m like ‘DAMN bitch your skin made of fuckin rice paper or something????’

[steddiealltheway]

Thinking about Steve who has not a single idea about how social media works, but he downloads a few things like Instagram and Twitter only to check in on the kids. Other than that, he has zero knowledge of pop culture and kind of lives in that blissful bubble. Every once in a while, the kids will get a bit exasperated with him, but he enjoys listening to them explain things - and he knows they secretly love being able to rehash all the gossip.

And honestly, being out of the loop has it’s perks. Especially when he’s on a plane to Los Angeles, California to visit the Byers while they’re there for a concert and to do some sightseeing in the meantime. He’s sat next to someone who sits by the window seat but wears a baseball cap and sunglasses, curly hair tied back in a ponytail. He seems strangely on edge - maybe suffering from a hangover or scared of flying.

Steve can’t help but tap him on the arm. When the stranger turns, he has his mouth in a flat line looking strangely done with the conversation before it’s even begun. “Sorry, I was just going to ask if you’re okay,” Steve says.

The man frowns and tilts his head. He hesitates to reply, “Yes, I’m just… a bit on edge.”

“Tell me about it. This is my first time on a plane.”

The stranger’s mouth twitches. “Is it really?”

“Yeah. What about you?” Steve asks.

“I’ve been on hundreds of planes - would rather be on the road though,” the stranger says reaching up to grab at the end of his ponytail and twirl it around his finger.

Steve smiles and replies, “I get that. I’m Steve by the way.” He holds his hand out to the stranger who eyes it wearily.

“Eddie,” he replies quietly and shakes his hand.

Steve gets distracted by the rings on his hands and finds himself asking about them. The stranger looks at him for a moment, and, even with the sunglasses on, Steve can tell Eddie is strangely taken aback. Steve is about to take it back and apologize for… mentioning the rings? But Eddie points to the first one and explains.

The rest of the plane ride goes well, amazingly well even. Steve finds himself chatting away with Eddie and throughly enjoying his company - especially when he holds his hand while the plane takes off. He especially enjoys the moment when Eddie briefly takes his sunglasses out to look at the clouds, and Steve gets to see his beautiful brown eyes.

A range of emotions pass through those eyes before Eddie puts the sunglasses back on. Steve almost asks him to keep them off - entranced by the way they express everything he’s thinking. But that can be a dangerous thing, so he doesn’t press him about it.

When the captain announces that they’re about to land, Steve is truly upset to think about not getting the chance to see Eddie again. Maybe it’s the fact that Steve has taken a risk and finally left Indiana for once or maybe Eddie’s just one of the first people he’s hit it off with in a long time, but Steve asks, “Do you want to get coffee? After we land.”

Eddie’s tongue rests on his top lip, tracing it back and forth as he considers it. He finally responds, “I would love to, but I have an appointment as soon as we land.”

Steve lets the disappointment settle in him but tries his best not to let it show. “It’s alright.”

But Eddie fidgets with his rings, tongue still resting on his top lip as he debates something. “Do you have an Instagram?” He asks.

Steve laughs bashfully. “I do, but I never use it. Well, I do sometimes just to keep track of some kids I used to babysit honestly, like Dustin who I told you about.”

Eddie’s smile turns into a full blown grin. “Of course. Well, do you mind if I get your Instagram so I can message you with when I’m free? I would give you my number but… I’m afraid of it getting out. Not that you would do that but… people listening and whatnot…” Eddie spins his rings so anxiously fast that it makes Steve nearly laugh.

“Yes, I hope I remember it correctly because I didn’t come up with it,” Steve confesses. Eddie passes him his phone with the notes app open. He types in steve.the.hair.harrington and hands the phone back.

Eddie takes it back and laughs as he reads it. “It’s fitting,” he explains and reaches out to mess with a few strands.

“I try my best,” Steve replies with a shrug, wondering how he can get Eddie to touch his hair again.

“My hair stylist would love you,” Eddie says then freezes.

Steve smiles. “You have a hair stylist?”

Eddie struggles to respond but is given an out as the plane finally lands. He’s immediately reaching out to grab Steve’s hand, and he forgets all about the question.

Eddie doesn’t let go until people start making their way off the plane, using his hand to tilt his baseball cap a little lower and tuck in on himself. It’s as if he’s trying to avoid having someone see him, but Steve doesn’t want to pry so he doesn’t ask.

Eddie follows Steve off the plane and glances around once they get to the terminal. Then, he quickly pulls him into a hug and whispers, “Thank you for a normal flight.”

Steve has no idea what he means by that, but he just squeezes him back tighter. Eddie pulls away and lingers in his arms. Steve wants more than anything to take off his sunglasses and look into his eyes again.

There’s a sound of a camera going off that has Eddie jumping away and putting his hands in his pockets. “Think we’re near someone famous?” Steve jokes.

“Oh, I know we are,” Eddie says with a small smile that makes it seem like he knows something that Steve doesn’t. Before he can ask, Eddie is saying, “I hope I’ll see you again. Goodbye, Steve.” And with that he’s rushing off, pulling his baseball cap a little lower and directing his gaze towards the ground.

He’s strange, but Steve likes him.

The rest of his day, he has a spring in his step. And by the time he gets to his hotel, he collapses on his bed with a sigh of relief. He pulls out his phone and checks for any notifications before he realizes his phone has been on airplane mode. He turns it off and waits for a message from Robin or Dustin to appear on his screen.

Instead, he’s bombarded with notification after notification - including 27 missed calls from Dustin. He calls him immediately.

The phone rings for not even a second before Dustin is answering with a scream of, “Steve Harrington, why have you not answered your phone?!”

“I’ve been sightseeing. Is everything okay?”

“Check the photos I sent you!”

Steve rushes to his messages, finding them filled with people he hasn’t heard from in years. He ignores that and goes to his pinned messages with Dustin. He clicks on the first picture he sees.

It’s a poor quality photo of him and Eddie hugging in the terminal. He swipes to find a photo of him and Eddie holding hands on the plane. Then another one of him lingering in Eddie’s arm looking… very smitten. “Dustin where did you get these?” Steve asks swiping and even coming across a video of them talking on the plane, with Steve laughing as Eddie dramatically tells some sort of tale.

“Better question, how did this even happen Steve? Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Steve is thoroughly confused. “Dustin, I just met Eddie today. But seriously, how did you get these?”

There’s a pause on the other line and a breathed out, “Oh my god.” He can hear Dustin take a deep breath before he asks, “Steve, please tell me that you know who Eddie Munson is.”

“His last name is Munson?”

There’s a muffled scream on the other line before Dustin is launching into a speech about how Eddie is one of the most famous up and coming artists right now. And yeah Corroded Coffins does sound familiar, but it doesn’t click until Dustin explains that’s who Steve and the Byers are going to see in concert.

Oh.

Steve thinks back and everything clicks - especially the number of people who were staring at him and trying to sneak photos while he was out. He scrolls to a screenshot of a Twitter post with the caption, “did anyone else know that eddie munson has a boyfriend???”

Steve’s eyes widen. “Dustin, how many people think we’re dating?”

“The entire internet so basically the whole world,” Dustin says, and Steve doesn’t have time to even process that statement before Dustin is yelling, “Oh my god!”

“What?”

“Eddie Munson just liked a photo I was tagged in! Holy shit, he’s seen my face!”

“Yeah, dude, I told him all about you on the plane,” Steve says. And boy, that probably will not help with the kid’s ego.

Steve opens his Instagram, ignoring Dustin’s little screams on the other line, and takes in the sheer number of notifications. He quickly goes to his requests in his messages and finds one from therealeddiemunson. “Hey, Dustin, what does a blue checkmark mean?”

Dustin groans on the other line asking why it was Steve who got to meet him before finally explaining it. Steve accepts the request and stares at the message hey, you still on for that coffee?

Steve clicks on Eddie’s profile and his heart thuds. He’s pretty sure people aren’t supposed to have a “K” in their follower count. He looks at the recent photos and feels himself turn a bit red. He almost has no clue how the Eddie he met on the plane and Eddie Munson are the same guy.

“Dustin, if I turned down Eddie Munson for coffee would you ever be able to forgive me?”

“Don’t you fucking dare, or I swear to god I will never let my mom bake anything for you again.”

Steve laughs and with that he goes back to the messages and sends Absolutely :)

[diejager]

Nooo but there is something about the monster au where there is a casual mention from her that she won't live as long as them (I assume monsters/hybrids are longer lived plus she is a lot more likely to die on mission), like she probably just jokes about it offhandedly and it sends all of them feral because... no? Absolutely not? Insulting. Ridiculous. Not happening.

Cue ultimate clinginess, all rushing to be more intimate because the thought of her not being around is abhorrent. Soap maybe losing it a bit going off on a line of thought about how he could mate her right? Would it be awful if there was a way for her to be a wolf shifter?

I AM GOING TO LOSE MY MIND

Change cw: mention of turning, mention of death, joking about death, tell me if I missed any.

All options are on the table at this point, death had always been something that loomed over them like a shadow, the veil and sickle of death following you wherever you went. You’ve had more than one reminder of your short life, your vulnerability as a human, weak and tender skin, short lives and a delicate body. There were so many things in the world that could pose a possible danger to you and they hated that.

You lived shorter lives than most monsters or hybrids, you grew sick and frail whereas hybrids could fight any viral infections or diseases, you didn’t have thicker skin despite all the extra layers of protective gear and you were a target of many for your choice of career. They were reminded of you mortality whenever you get hurt, blood painting your skin with a strong, metallic odour.

And it didn’t help that you’d often joke about it, throwing offhanded comments that made their hackles raise, body tense and mind brewing with what ifs scenario that has them tearing their hair from the root. While some monsters were more solitary than others, all of them were possessive of what they deemed their family —pack.

Ghost and König stuck closer during training, a tall, imposing figure behind you that acted as a guard dog to ward away anyone they deemed a danger. Soap and Horangi hung around you in the rec room, either laying on you or clinging to you, putting a show of ownership over you. Rudy and Alejandro, the ever active couple, were always finding you around the base, striking up a conversation and wrapping their arms around you. Gaz would was the cuddliest of the group, finding time outside of his busy to snuggle up against you and cover you with his wings, pulling you to sleep on his shoulder. Price, the man with the most authority in the TF made sure that you were always with someone on every Op, having someone to back you up in the most dire situation.

Every visit to the medic made them wild, it brought them closer to desperate measures. Would it be so bad to turn you in one? Would it be so bad to let Soap bite you during the full moon, his bite infecting you with his power: thicker skin, sturdier build, longer lifespan and better sense? The only draw backs were the higher wildness, near feral during full moons and a competitive mindset over the possessiveness and brattiness of a young werewolf.

Would it be so bad to make you return as a wraith? While Ghost learned to control his powers alone, the pain and emotions building up in his body without any way of letting it out, you had him, you wouldn’t be alone with the resurrection. He didn’t want you to feel the terror and agony by yourself —he didn’t want you to know how it felt to die and come back.

Would it be so bad to have a vampire turn you into one without becoming a thrall? You couldn’t walk in the sun, something you told them you enjoyed, you’d be restrained to specific activities and you wouldn’t like that, being limited by the sun. Granted, there were solutions to that, but none very comfortable.

They knew you were aware of your mortality, made fun of it and laughed as it this was your last day, but you didn’t fear death, you only feared leaving them. You were open to their thoughts, listening to their ideas and options with a neutral expression, but you didn’t reject the idea of turning you. That was a good thing, a step forward in their mind.

Now all that needed to do was to let you decide which path you wanted to walk.

tag list: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel

[anemptypuddingcup]

Imagine trying to leave Yandere Op men.

Part 1 Part 2

does contain dark themes with manipulation, possessiveness and probably dub-con in some.

Luffy.

-He’s not going to allow it. Once you’re with him you won’t be able to leave.

-After Ace’s death, it definitely threw him off the edge and caused him to become more clingy and possessive and maybe even a bit insane.

-The feeling of losing his brother made him feel alone until you filled that void in his heart, he couldn’t even compare you to his friends because that’s how wonderful and meaningful you were to him.

-As much as you loved Luffy, his murderous tendencies bothered you heavily to the point where you were fearing your own friends lives and yours.

“Oi. Where’re ya goin’?”

-He’s definitely gonna stop you from going and he’ll do anything to gain you back on his side.

“See? Told ya~ No one else can do this better than me.” Luffy’s lust-filled and lovestruck stared deep into yours as your as he thrusts his cock into you sloppily yet hungrily. He was so needy for you and it was a shame that you thought you were gonna leave him.

“L-Luffy~ Mhh~ F-Feels so good~” As much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t stay away from Luffy because of his loving affection. It was one of the easiest ways to win you back over and he knew it. Crawling away from him wasn’t an option as if you could think about it.

The rubber man fucked you so wonderfully that you couldn’t leave him. Giving him a loving kiss on his warm-chapped lips threw your mind in for a loop as you started to grow drunk on his cock.

“Ya not gonna leave me are ya? Y-Ya gonna stay here with me aren’t ya!?~”

“Cmon!~ Answer me baby! Is m’dick makin’ ya go dumb!?~”

Zoro.

-Zoro likes to linger and stalk your every move. As someone who doesn’t express his emotions often, he sits back and watches your every move but plays it cool to keep it low.

-But the thought of you leaving him affected him badly. He couldn’t suppress his emotions once he found out that you were trying to break the ties with him.

-He absolutely wouldn’t hesitate to use force to keep you with him.

“Hey. Where do y’think you’re going?”

-While he was watching and trying his best to keep his composure, noticing you sitting by Sanji and speaking with him (presumably about leaving Zoro) enraged him.

-A harsh grip to your wrist and a trip to the bathroom made your heart pound with fear yet slight excitement.

“What’re you planning? Are you going to leave me?” Zoro’s hand was tight on your neck his his hips had rutted into you harshly, pressing a hard and heavy kiss against your cervix. You couldn’t even answer the moss-headed man as he fucked his anger out on you.

“N-Nooo~ N-No m’n-not!~ Z-Zoro!~” You moan out, a bit of drool falling from your lips as the lack of oxygen made you lightheaded. He grins widely as he hears those words, the words making his heart pound with excitement and giving him a rush of adrenaline.

With his hips speeding up, you moan louder against him, your legs wrapping around his hips tightly as you felt your orgasm rising.

“Good girl, stay with me and I’ll keep makin’ you feel this good~”

“You better not think of leavin’ me ever again.”

Sanji.

-Sanji is very begging and possessive. He’s doing all he can just to keep you by his side but in his eyes he realizes that his efforts just aren’t enough for you.

-Surely it wasn’t him and his attitude towards anyone who even bothered to speak to you, it couldn’t have been that.

-So what exactly made you feel like you could leave him, even if he tried to respect your decision he just couldn’t.

-He can’t let you go, not a precious and rare gem.

“P-Please love! D-Don’t leave m-me!”

-He would try anything. Buying you gifts and cooking good food. But the thing that actually wins you over is once he fucks his love back into you, taking your heart back.

-Anytime you’d felt that you wanted to leave, he would give you more love just so you could stay and eventually you’d grew addicted and accustomed to him.

-You started to get so used to it that you would sometimes ask him to fill you up, and that’s when he knew that such a method of brainwashing and brain-fucking had worked.

“Ahh~ Y-You feel so wonderful!~” Drool slips from Sanji’s lips as he fucks into your cum-filled hole, your cunt already full and leaking from the recent rounds. A heavy gasp leaves you before your eyes rolls back as you feel him kiss your cervix.

“M-More!~ Give me m-more, Sanji!~” You moan out all whiney under him as he pressed smooches and kisses against your body, a little chuckle leaving him as he did so.

“Take it all!~ T-Take all of my love inside of you~”

“You want more? You want to take more of my love baby doll?~”

“Y-Yes! Yes Sanjiii!~”

You’d reach out your arms to him, filled up and so drunk on his dick and gets still yearning for more affection.

Usopp.

-Usopp won’t be able to accept your decision. Whether you keep it low key or tell him straight to his face, he’ll melt down into an emotional mess.

-He wouldn’t be able to handle the thought of you leaving his side, which is why he has his ways of keeping you close to him.

-Doing fun little things with him like your favorite hobbies and giving you attention slowly made you feel that maybe it was a bad idea to leave him.

-He could manipulate you or trick your mind into staying knowing damn well you’ve been planning to leave him.

“See? Isn’t this so much fun? Don’t you want to do this more often!?”

-He knew what he was doing and somehow you didn’t see it when you’ve had a chance.

-And now you were stuck in this constant loop with him, not remembering that it was a horrible idea to stay with him.

“Mmgh~ U-Usopp~ Y-You’re doing so good!~” A moan leaves your lips as you wrap your arms around Usopp, your legs wrapping around his waist as he softly ruts into you. He trembles from your praise, his body growing hotter the more you praised him.

He was doing so good pleasing you, his inner mind happy that he’s still able to have you in his arms.

“Y-Yes! I am doing good~ Y-You want me to do better?~”

“I-I’ll fuck you better this time than I did the last~”

Ace.

-Ace would laugh about it. As if! As if someone like you would leave someone like him!

-It didn’t take very long for him to process the information and realize that you were serious about your decision.

“Wait- You aren’t really going to leave, are ya?”

-He was burning up once he heard so and he wanted to take you back with force.

-But he couldn’t just do that. It would be wrong and disrespectful right?

-It sure wasn’t hard to take you back over when he fucked you hard one night and you came back asking for more.

-He would joke and rub it in your face, finding it amusing that you would even think of such a decision.

“What’s wrong? I thought ya wanted to leave me?” Ace chuckles as he kept your hands pinned above your head, his cock buried deep within your cunt.

You give him a displeased yet sorrowful look, apologizing to him without exchanging words. His grin grows wider as he realizes that you’ve finally realized your mistake and fixed it.

“It’s okay baby! I’ll forgive you with fucking you to sleep!~”

Sabo.

-Sabo would take your words into consideration and plan something out.

-He didn’t want to think of something so dark to take you back over but he couldn’t act like it didn’t cross his mind once or twice either.

-After you’ve told him, he’s not gonna let you leave after you’ve only spoke to him. You genuinely have to prove to him that you want to leave him.

“Hold on Angel, don’t think I’m gonna let you leave with just your words.”

-If you can’t prove that, you might as well give up on the thought.

-He knew exactly how to keep you intact while the decision makes you both feel good.

“I thought you wanted to leave angel, it certainly doesn’t seem like it..” Sabo taunts you as he buries his cock deep within your gummy walls, a heavy gasp leaving you as you feel him kiss your g-spot. You whine out in your shame, a bit ashamed as you enjoyed his cock plunging into you.

“I-I don’t wanna leave S-Sabo!~” You moan out, your eyes crossing as he pulls your hips farther into his. A smile tugs at his lips before he chuckles and presses a kiss to your neck.

“Aww, was it just a feeling then? Changed your mind?”

[merbear25]

Asking One Piece characters if they would still love you if you were a worm😭

I love that you sent this because I had so much fun writing it. Hope you found it as silly and funny as I did. 💜💜

CW: SFW, gn!reader, headcanons/scenarios, humor

But what if…you were a worm? x OP

Of course I would! (honest): Sanji, Koby

They were completely smitten with you. Even if you were turned into a slimy, wiggly creature… Well, you were still you! Truth be told, if there was even a chance you retained your memories, they couldn’t break your heart. 

Of course I would! (bombastic side eye): Nami, Buggy, Caesar

They understood the test and passed it, saving themselves from the waterworks. But, they couldn’t stop themselves from judging the absurdity of that question. “Asking me if I’d love a worm… What’s gotten into them?” They mumbled, while giving you a concerned look.

Just as out of pocket: Robin, Law, Mihawk

They took your weirdness and uno reversed it. “If a bird didn’t eat you first, then yes.” That didn’t help, like…at all. In fact, now you were stuck in the hypothetical thinking about being eaten. Blinking at you as you nodded and walked away, they were quite sure you wouldn’t be asking such silly questions again any time soon.

Upsets you (unintentional): Zoro, Usopp, Luffy, Ace

The look on their face said it all. You were unreasonably heartbroken and immediately started asking them “Why not?” They hadn’t even said anything but felt like they needed to apologize. “It’s not like it’ll ever happen, right?” Oh, no that made it worse. “Oh boy…” they sighed.

Upsets you (doesn’t care): Crocodile, Kid, Doflamingo

Ask stupid questions, get burned. That wasn’t at all how the saying went, but that was exactly how it went down. You were wasting their time asking about such pointless hypotheticals. “No, I’d probably just end up stepping on you anyway.” You would be itty-bitty, so it wasn’t like it’d be hard to.

Flat out doesn’t understand: Luffy, Zoro

What the heck were you on about? If you were a worm, they’d probably lose you. Then you started getting emotional, which made them even more confused. Why were you crying about not being a worm? Make it make sense.

[jelzorz]

183.

The damage to the castle is pretty extensive. Callum doesn't need to be architect to know that. He and Rayla had managed to fly back in just after dawn this morning, their hearts clenching at the sight of its broken silhouette on the horizon, afraid to even wonder who'd made it out and who hadn't and whose bodies might still be in the rubble. It's pure coincidence that they spot Soren and Opeli riding in from the South Gate with a handful of troops, every one of them haggard and obviously exhausted, but alive in spite of the blood and ash on their faces.

"We're all fine," Opeli tells them while Soren is barking orders at the soldiers to start a sweep for survivors and to salvage what little they can. "Most of us, in any case but there are a number of civilians who have not been accounted for. We've sent word to King Ezran to inform him of what happened but it could be days yet before his return, and even longer before we get anymore aid."

Rayla presses her hand over her lips, her face pale. "How can we help?"

"We need supplies for the rest of the survivors," Opeli tells her briskly. "And we need to start retrieving bodies. Those who were unlucky deserve their rites and their families deserve closure. Help the soldiers, if you can. Bandage up any survivors. It's all we can do. If you'll excuse me, Your Highness, My Lady." She nods at them both and hurries away, first aid pack swinging from her shoulder to help a couple of the soldiers drag an unconscious civilian out from beneath the rubble.

Callum just wants to throw up.

Soren gives them more specific instructions when he spots them—"Check the East Wing for survivors, let us know if you find anyone,"—before he too hurries away to help pull bodies from the ruins. Callum has never heeded any instructions from him in his life, but he and Rayla do as they're told without argument.

They pick their way across the ruins, sifting through powdered bricks and molten stones for people, for supplies. Rayla finds one of the maids trapped under a support beam miraculously still alive, and Callum finds a number of slightly singed bedrolls that still work perfectly and are better than not having one at all.

He doesn't tell anyone that he's on the hunt for a third thing in the ruins of his old bedroom. It's neither a person nor a supply and can't be considered a priority in any regard but it's still important, if only to him, and it'd be a heavy loss indeed if he doesn't find it: a book, bound in blue and gold, small enough to fit in his pocket but unlikely to have survived.

His dad's poetry collection.

Callum doesn't remember him very well at all, but he was a good man who loved him and his mother with all his heart. He wrote more books, but this one was written for his mother, and for him when he was born, and if it's gone too—

It's not the same as another death, but it's something else lost. Something else to mourn.

The hours pass. The sun begins to set. Soren calls off the search for the day at dusk and starts herding soldiers and civilians back to the carts at the gates. Callum is still moving rubble when Rayla gets to him, her touch soft on his shoulder.

"We have to go," she says quietly. "We're losing light. We can keep looking in the morning."

"It's not—" Callum stops, his throat clogged emotions he'd managed to bury until now. This was his home. There are a line of bodies in the square, people whose names he'd known growing up, people who'd helped his mother through her grief when his father died, all of them lost to anger and violence and hate. His dad's book is nothing in comparison but it's all he has left of him, and everything else is gone so if he just—

"I can't stop yet," he manages. "I need to find it."

"What's 'it'?"

"My dad's—" Callum swallows. "My dad's poetry collection. It's—I don't have anything else, and everything else is gone. I just—it's all I have left of him, Rayla."

Her eyes soften. She touches his face. "I'll help," she says quietly. "Let me tell Soren we'll meet them back at the temples and I'll help you look, okay?"

"You don't have—"

"Shush." She presses her lips to the corner of his mouth and brushes his hair out of his eyes, her touch jarringly soft against his skin after a day of shifting rubble and ash. "I get it," she says. "After everything you've done for me and my parents, helping you find your dad's book is nothing. I'll stay. Okay?"

Callum swallows. "Okay," he manages. "Thank you."

She squeezes his hand.

She's the one who finds it, in the end. It's a little singed on the edges but was well protected under his collapsed bookshelf, and the gold lettering still shines in the moonlight when she presses it into his hands. Callum breaks when she hands it to him, his exhaustion and his grief catching up with him in one great rush, but Rayla's arms are warm and steady, her presence a shining beacon in the dark.

She is his truth for a reason, and in the ruins of his old home, he's grateful to still have one in her.

[literaticat]

I'm at my wit's end. I've spent a decade trying to break through - 10 years with 5 novels coming super close with a variety of big publishers, who rave about my writing, ideas, etc. Feedback has been mostly positive. One even rejected saying "I don't know why we're rejecting this, it's EXACTLY what we're looking for and ticks all our boxes, but we feel compelled to reject it anyway." Is there just a "Do Not Publish" sign on my head? How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

(OP continues...) "Sorry about the rant, Jenn, and I know there's not much you can say as you don't know my specific situation. But it's just maddening. 10+ years of my life! I know everyone faces rejection, but I seem to mostly get positive feedback and so many "close calls" of almost getting a deal - a lot of interest, but then it just peters out. That "compelled to reject anyway" just made me start feeling like I'm just fated to never be published, no matter what? I'm unagented now, starting from scratch..."

OK first of all -- that rejection, if that is literally what they said, is utterly insane. I have to presume (HOPE? PRAY?) that you are paraphrasing, that that is what it *felt* like to you, but that's not LITERALLY what they said??? Because there are certainly things where, on the surface, yes, this is what a publisher is looking for and it "ticks the boxes", but ultimately, it doesn't have that X-factor, je ne sais quois, or whatever -- so I can see a publisher saying something like, "while the writing is admirable and the premise is interesting, ultimately, we weren't compelled enough to make an offer for publication" -- which is ALMOST what you said, but there's a key difference that makes it actually normal and not insane. Because in YOUR version, it sounds like they are under an imperius curse or something, where they don't know what they are doing or why they are doing it, they just have to do it, even though it is against what WOULD be their better judgment if they weren't cursed. And... it's wild to think that a publisher would make a statement like that. (Maybe they were having a very OFF DAY???) -- BUT ANYWAY, on to the crux of your question/rant:

I understand your frustration. If it makes you feel any better (??), you're not alone. I know many -- MANY -- MANY career authors, who spent 10 years honing their craft, trying and failing, getting rejections, getting close-but-no-cigars, etc. I was chatting with a wise (and now famous) author I know, who spent 10 years or so in the query/wrong-agent/rejection/close-call trenches. She told me a theory that I feel pretty sure is right, though I don't have proof per se, it does track with my observations. She said:

Just about everyone who sticks with writing or the arts in general as a career has about a ten-year rough patch. That doesn't mean it takes everyone ten years to get published! (Though it does take LOTS of people 10+ years) -- Some lucky people get their break a lot sooner than that. BUT. Everyone has to pay the piper that ten year fee, either all at once, or in installments. So let's say you sell your book right away and start raking in the accolades etc -- fab! Just know that nobody stays popular and beloved forever, and at some point, the ten year slump is coming for you. Aren't you lucky that you're getting yours out of the way now?

OK, if that didn't work for you, how about this:

How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

You know you don't have to, right?

Like, if writing and seeking traditional publication is making you miserable -- you can stop. In fact, stopping may be a great idea.

I say this not to be discouraging, but rather, encouraging, actually. I encourage you to give yourself permission to prioritize your own mental and emotional well-being.

If you realize you miss writing and can't live without it -- go back to it! But maybe instead of having "publication" as your goal, your goal can be writing for the pure joy of it, without worrying about future queries or would-be agents or anyone else's expectations. What freedom! Embrace that!

Then when you do have a brand-new shiny manuscript, you can decide your next steps. Maybe it's trying again for traditional publishing, and this is the turn around the track that changes everything. (It should be close, if the 10 year theory is correct!)

OR, maybe it's self-publishing. (Lots of people have a lot of success there -- maybe you're one of them!) --

OR, maybe it's just chilling out and writing some more for your own pleasure -- creating art for the sake of creating it, for fun, for self-fulfillment, etc. Like, you know, a normal hobby, that nobody is expecting you to monetize or make into a "gig".

[sen-ya]

part 5/7

is it silly that this is my favorite in this series? i really enjoyed writing kaya and I wanna do it again at some point :')

[op comic masterpost]

[pg1] panel 2: Kaya: Oh! Dr. Law! I didn't expect to find you in our library.

panel 3: Law: K-Kaya-ya!

panel 4: Law: Uh. Ahem. Excuse me. I hope you don't mind me borrowing your books.

panel 5: Kaya: Oh of course not! I'm just shocked to hear we have books you don't! What are you studying?

panel 6: Law: UHHHHH

[pg2] panel 10: Kaya: Oh! Is someone on your crew pregnant? Ikkaku??

panel 11: Law (thinking): She doesn't know Ikkaku is trans. Does she not know that I am?? I just assumed Nose-ya would have mentioned it. But that makes sense. If Straw Hat didn't already know Nose-ya was trans it's not like I would have told him.

panel 12: Kaya: ...?

panel 13: Law (thinking): Fuck, I've been quiet too long. I can't throw Ikkaku under to bus. Just say something.

panel 14: Law: No. Kaya: Oh. Then why...? Law (thinking): Wait, shit

[pg3] panel 15: Law: My, uh...brother...'s...wife. Yeah, we're taking him back to Zou soon...because his wife is pregnant...and I...want...to help...?

panel 16: Kaya: Oh, how sweet! Congrats "Uncle Law" hehe. If you have any questions I could help with let me know!! I specialized in traumatic injury, but I did deliver a few babies in Syrup Village! On smaller islands like that you wear a lot of hats.

panel 17: Law: And you've...been pregnant. Kaya: Well, yeah, but I wasn't my own doctor! Could you imagine if I had tried to deliver the twins myself? Even a doctor needs a doctor, you know that.

panel 18: Law: ...right.

panel 19: Law: ...what...what was it like?

panel 20: Kaya: Oh, my pregnant patients were actually pretty fun! I suppose it makes sense that as a pirate ship doctor you wouldn't have had to know obstetrics. But it was always so lovely to hand a parent their--

[pg4] panel 21: Kaya: ...newborn...baby...?

panel 23: Kaya: ...I'm sorry, Dr. Law. If there's context I need you'll have to give it to me. I'm not good at guessing.

panel 24: Law: What do you mean, I just gave you context. Kaya: With all due respect, you're full crying. It's a new sight for me!

panel 25: Kaya: You can tell me what's going on! I'm told I'm a very good listener

panel 26: Law: ...You Straw Hats sure are a pain Kaya: Sorry, hehe

panel 28: Law: ...I...ahem...so number one, if you didn't know...I'm...I'm trans.

panel 29: Law: But not like your husband. He got the works from Ivankov-ya...I never felt the need to seek that out.

[pg5] panel 30: Kaya: ...I see

panel 31: Kaya: How far along are you? Law: ..12 weeks, give or take. Kaya: Well, I've provided obstetric care of all kinds. So whatever questions you're researching here...why don't you ask me instead of being your own doctor?

panel 32: Law: ...Same question. What was it like?

panel 33: Kaya: Being pregnant was a horror show!

panel 34: Law: A glowing review. Kaya: Oh, sorry! I can lie if you'd prefer!

panel 35: Kaya: I was just so sick my first trimester! Law (speaking over her): KAYA-YA I THOUGHT I WAS DYING FOR TWO WEEKS WHEN WILL IT STOP I CAN ONLY EAT RICE.

panel 36: Kaya: It's different for everyone. By the end it wasn't quite so bad for me, though. And I love my kids so much. They were such cute newborns!! So I was alright being uncomfortable for awhile. Because that's what we wanted, you know?

panel 37: Kaya (off screen): What do you and Luffy want, Dr. Law?

[pg6] panel 38: Law: ...We haven't decided yet. We're giving it to the end of the week. I'm trying to think about it rationally. But I just keep getting emotional any time I talk about it. It's strange.

panel 39: Kaya: An emotional decision and a bad decision aren't inherently synonymous, you know.

panel 40: Law: ...your bedside manner is impeccable, Dr. Kaya-ya. Kaya: Well, thank you! Next time let's meet in the infirmary, mine or yours.

panel 41: Kaya: I'll be your doctor through this, okay?

panel 42: Law: ...Okay...Thank you. Kaya: Of course!

[kaivenom]

Omg omg, OP Dilfs with a virgin reader? 🥺

One Piece Dilfs first time with a virgin reader HCS

Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks

A/N: omg people, i am freaking out of how much love the posts about these men are getting. For the past few weeks all i am getting is Dilf fans. Thank you so much.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

He doesn't care.

If he is in a relationship with you, then you would have to had sex for the first time, what's the difference if it's your first first?

He see it as both firsts, becuase he doesn't know how would you be in sex.

The thing it's that you didn't know the answer either, so, you were really lost.

The good thing is that this man is really good at saying orders which means that when the time came, you were at his mercy.

It was like being hipnotized.

"Take off your clothes" "Come here." "Kiss me" "Use your mouth"

There were no words of reasurrance but you didn't care, his touches told you he was enjoying your actions.

Something in the atmosphere was extremely serious but deep and lovable.

Gentle and stoic, even when he just told you to suck him off.

All your intrusive thoughts were gone every second his touch was on you.

He would look like he doesn't care but if it's important to you, then he would make it important, even if it's not with his words.

When he isn't giving you orders, he needs to have his lips on you somehow: kissing your neck, your lips, your tits.

Aftercare based on service acts, like rubbing your hair, cleaning you up, giving you water.

He had everything prepared and set, to make you feel good and cared.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He got an instant boner and wanted to take you right there.

The mere thought spliting you in half with ruthness made him all worked up but being the first one to make you feel it was his wet dream.

He was being dominant and agressive, eager to be inside you.

It was intoxicating and almost obsesive.

You were sure it was bad idea to tell him because now he won't be gentle with you, and you were right.

When he tried to put his dick inside you and you began to cry a little and scratch his arm, he stopped instantly.

He knew that you would have that reaction and on his mind he would like it like he always likes the idea of torturing others but suddently it was different.

His mind was racing between all the posibilities while you try to prepare yourself for the pain.

Then he was a little softer, scarily softer, starting to touch every sensitive area with care.

You started to relax and the cries transformed into whimpers, without you knowing, you were finally able to take all his shaft.

He left out a small unexpected groan and slowly started to move.

Your wrap around his arm was still strong but now the pain transformed to pleasure.

When you both finished he putted you on his arms and waited for you to fall asleep.

He was surprised of himself, he always likes to hear the cries and bruises of his lovers, maybe you are something else and he doesn't know what to do about it.

Sr. Crocodile

He couldn't care less.

But he understands that is important to make you feel comfortable and secure, to make you sure that you are not being used and that nothing would be wrong.

He is a very good dealer so, when you said you were a virgin but you wanted to be with him, you both sat down and talked.

You both talked long and deep about all things and emotions possible.

He was confident and calm, everything you needed to feel safe to say everything out loud.

Then, he got up and started to kiss you, it was the time.

He took you up in bridal style and left you on the bed.

His movements are slow, you though it was because he wanted to make you feel safe but in reallity he was a little nervous.

He is used to breaking things not trying to keep it together.

He swears that your dove eyes while naked in bed, expecting for him, just makes him feel something primal.

He carreses your skin and never breaks eye contact, that makes you embarrased and at the same time excited.

He is a somehow scared that he would crush you with his weight but still he gets on top of you and kisses you with passion.

Painfully slow but is worth it, he is concious men.

In aftercare, he just lets you tell him what you need.

Smoker

I think he would be a virgin too.

Too focused on his job and duty to do these things until he met you.

I picture him as akward, he will try to look tough and masculine but he would be like a pudding, soft and shaky, but also tender.

He will set a cozy aesthetic cheeky room for you two.

Rose petals making a trail to the bed, candles, heart-shapped cushions and chocolates, all that manual sappy things.

He will be waiting for you in the bedroom only in boxers, he will never admit it but he was feeling cold.

You got there all flustered, knowing from the start what was everything about.

He went to you with a soft smile, and started to undress you carefully.

Soft and tender kisses while he takes you to bed.

Incredibly passional and masculine, just as he wanted.

Very traditional but yet still exciting.

Amazing with his fingers and very carefull all the time, he knows he is stronger.

Good old missionary, his moans on your neck almost made you cum.

And he almost cummed by the time his dick passed thru your slit.

He knowed it would feel good but never imagined that good, but he last good and gave you the pleasure you deserved.

Aftercare like a god, like he read everything on a book.

Big secret, he read a book, and listened to a podcast, and asked other woman at work (he died of embarrasment).

Akagami Shanks

He is surprised at first.

He pictured you as someone who already had some type of intercourse in these but when he tried to make the move and you flintched, he was shocked.

His first thougth was that you had a traumatic experience, but then you both talked and he was recalculating everything.

His goal now it's to make you have the best experience possible, to the point were he put a little to much effort on himself.

So you needed to remind him that the two of you were going to have sex and that meant that he can get pleasure too.

Very cute from then, little laughs and reasurance.

"I am going to move.... ouch, a cramp." you both laughed while he laid on your tits.

"Now i want you to ride me so..." and now you are both on the ground.

It's really funny beacuse he is amused by your beauty and by being your first and having his dick inside you for the first time, that he isn't aware of anything else, which makes these kind of situations (even after your first time).

Very giggly and cute, i can't say anything else, if you were nervous and insecure at first, all that would be wiped away in a second with his laugh.

[tinydefector]

Hi! I have to say that since I read your energy fluid au, I couldn't stop thinking about it haha. I could have tfp optimus x gn!human!reader With energy fluid au? That the human is his first time to try something like that.

Tightly Wound energyFluid AU

TFP optimus Prime x human reader

Warnings: Smut, Blowjob, Handjob, fingerings? Valveplug

Word count: 2k

Optimus Prime masterlist

Request and Ask open read pinned post

__________________

"I mean it Optimus, you look like you have slept in nearly a week,I know Cybertronian's probably work differently but you still need rest" the human argue at the Autobot leader, he hadn't been taking care of himself that much was evident to everyone at base. Ratchet had told him off for it too, the others weren't willing to talk back to their leader, but Optimus human charge, They are determined to make sure he rests. They softly scold him as he makes his way towards his quarters. 

Optimus vented softly at their persisting concern, touched by their care for one so much larger than themselves. "Your care for my well-being is much appreciated,but I can guarantee you, I am fine," he states, trying to plead his case, he had more work to do, scans to run and areas that needed to be patrolled. “Don't give me that shit Op, your optics look like they are ready to fall out of your head!” They argue back, it only earns a sigh from the Prime, he knows he's not getting out of this, they were to firey when it came to him looking after himself. 

Settling back against the wall of his berth, he tucked his legs beneath him and gazed down at their small form nestled against his chassis. After a moment's quiet contemplation, he conceded softly, "Very well. I will take your advice and recharge this night cycle. Satisfied?" His optics shoot from them, he knows if he looks them in the eyes he wouldn't be able to fight them at all. “I will be once you lay down” 

A gentle rumble built in his spark at the feeling their presence brought, even as his systems attempted to power down in preparation for repairs. Some battles were won through force, this one was going to be won by his charge, and they knew full well they were already winning, their stubbornness reminded him of megaton at times, not willing to back down, and they were willing to take even himself on For that, he was grateful, they didn't shun away just because he was a prime.

They lay against his chassis watching him vent trying to fall into recharge. It's silent between them for a long while before they finally move. His optics flicker back on watching them move. They sit up against his chassis. One of their hands reached up to his face, tracing it slowly. " can't sleep?" Their voice is tender now, the fight from earlier had left them as they watch Optimus struggle to find recharge.

Though his systems urged him toward recharge, his processor refused to shut down, Optimus could not fully power down; he was too wired, wanting to get things done. His optics flickered warmly as small hands traced gentle patterns along the seams and plating of his facial structure, he  into the gentle touch and a deep noise vibrated through his chassis.

" rest does not come as easy," he rumbled softly, careful not to disturb their exploration. Lifting a digit, he softly returned their touch, letting its tip graze their back with the lightest of pressures. "Forgive me, my processor won't shut down." He sighed, Duty was not easily set aside for him, so many things were at stake. 

 Gazing down at their small form outlined against the blue glow of his sparkchamber. " talk to me Op, what's wrong?" They ask softly. Their eyes looked up at him worried over what was wrong, they press little pecked kiss to his helm. In truth Optimus was frustrated and didn't know how to address it. For a moment, no words came as buried memories and emotions swirled within.

Then, venting softly, he spoke in a low rumble. "There have been many vorns since last I self serviced. Much has changed, I'm as you would say ‘Pent up’ " His voice took on a weary edge. "The burdens of leadership are not easily set aside, even in recharge. Responsibility for so many weighs heavy, and some days the path ahead seems shrouded in darkness. I strive always to make the choices that will safeguard our future...yet doubt can linger that I have made the right ones. And I have Neglected my own sensors"

He gazed off into the distance as centuries of struggle flickered across his optics. "It's something I haven't had the opportunity to fix." His plating fluttered faintly, a faint expression of inner turmoil.

They lean up and press an ever so soft to his lips, " can I help anyway?" They inquiry. Small hands cupping his face as they continue peppering small kisses across his frame. "Blowjob?" The human jokingly asks as laughter spills from their lips. "Sorry, sorry." They laugh more, pressing their face into his chassis. 

Optimus sighs wearily, field damping the warmth of your affectionate touches. While their humor and willingness to aid are well-intentioned, certain acts would go against his principles.

"I thank you for the offer of assistance," he rumbles gently, servos enveloping your smaller hands where they cradle his faceplate. Optics crinkling, he adds, "But I fear certain... biological functions may cause unwarranted distress to your human systems."

Lifting them closer, he gazes down at them with a small smile. His field radiates gratitude and care. While desire is not unknown to him, duty to his cause and their safety comes first. 

"Optimus the size doesn't really phase me if that's what you're worried about" they reply moving further down his form. "Would it help you recharge with some release?" It's an inquiry while they slowly move down his tanks to the interface panel. They run their hands over his form gently in circles. “I'm offering Optimus, I know it may be hard to understand but you deserve to relax and have someone take the burdens off your shoulders even if it's just for a little” 

Optimus vents softly, gazing down at them with gentle optics. While their intention is clearly to provide relief and pleasure, his worry is certain intimacies that could endanger their small frame.

Still, their caring touch along his plating brings serenity amid endless conflicts in his own mind. "You have a kind spark," he rumbles softly. "However, as your Guardian I cannot in good conscience engage in acts that could risk your well-being, no matter how well-meaning the offer." Lifting their face with a digit, he strokes their cheek with another. 

"Optimus just for one night, what do you want, not what you think, what do you want" they ask while pressing soft kisses to his plating. Orion stirs within at the words, 

Their delicate touches along seams and plating bring solace yet kindle fleeting fantasies, he wanted them, but it wasn't something he could allow him. 

"For one night don't be the leader just be Orion, relax, let me look after you" they argue back, and in that moment Optimus realises that he wasn't going to win this argument. " trust me, i know you struggle with trust but trust me " they state pressing kisses further down his interface panel.

He Venting softly. “I haven't done this before” he states. He's worried over so many things but the moment their lips press against a tender spot it has him gasping loudly, as a servo gripping the side of his berth.  His armour plates part with a hiss, baring the metal within to your exploration.

They smile as his spike pressurises. Small hands wrap around him. Slowly moving up and down, they slowly press a kiss to the base. Their eyes flicker down to his valve. "Just relax" they call out to him. 

 Optimus releases a soft ventilation at their careful touch, mental disciplines the sole barrier against fully surrendering to sensation, He traces their back with gentle digits as their tongue teases along heated metal and wiring. An age-old ache stirs within as desire threatens long-banished fantasies. 

The human's exploration pulls sounds from his vocalizer unheard since vorns ago, He meets their upward gaze, One of His digits trace cheek in gratitude. 

One of their hands moves down to Optimus' valve slowly teasing him open, they run their tongue along nodes as they move further down. Their eyes widen at the sweet taste. They dive in for more of Optimus' sweet taste. A soft shudder runs through Optimus' frame as their questing fingers dance across nodes and explore, delving deeper. It has him arching with a sinful moan slipping from him.  

He releases a quiet rumble at the sensations. His spike throbs as their tongue teases unseen nodes, coaxing transfluid rich glowing arousal from hidden manifolds. Their mouth drinks it as quickly as they can, and for a moment he worries over the effect of it in a human's system, but the worry is thrown out the window the moment they take his spike into their mouth. 

A whimpered sound leaves him, optics shutter at the sinful feeling of their mouth against his spike. "Damn you really are pent up" they tease, lips tracing patterns against  his spike, lapping up the small amounts of transfluid dripping from him. "God you taste amazing, so sweet " they call out before trying to take him further into their mouth.

Optimus releases a soft groan at their teasing words, optics brightening at their evident enjoyment. The praise and eagerness to please stir long-dimmed responses deep within his core.

He ventilations deeply as their lips and glossa work flicking lights that line his spike, coaxing fresh waves of transfluid from him. He had never had a partner tend to these sensors so caringly. So many things he didn't know were possible. 

His servos gently cradle them against his spike's pulsing heat, digits tracing their form in wordless rapture,  moans, cries and deep vents fall from him. They take him further into their mouth transfluid leaking from the sides as they lap up the sweet pink fluid. pulling away from a moment before moving right back down to his valve, rotating between both as they work Optimus up slowly. "You look so pretty like this you know" they call out.

Optimus utters a loud gasp as they redouble their attention. “please, please” he all but sobs out, rocking into their touch. Their praise had him melting under them. For the first time since before memory itself. strain-knotted lines, awakening his frame and he's nearly begging for release.

As ecstasy rises within burning waves, "That's it, so good for me, gonna overload for me sweetheart?" They call out, lips wrapping back around his valve node, sucking harder as they press their hand into Optimus' Valve, thrusting in and out quickly. Tremors run through Optimus' frame at their eager ministrations bring him swiftly cresting toward his peak. 

Their hands and sweet mouth coax ecstasy ripening within hidden nodes newly sensitised. Pleasure rends seams locked up his systems And as peak claims his senses, he cries out rocking desperately into each touch.

When Optimus finally overloads, he goes lax against his berth. Their lips and tongue work swiftly with licking up more of his transfluid. his optics online again it's to the view of their lips against his spike lapping up the pink fluid. 

Optimus vents softly as awakening creeps back into weary systems, steam vents from him, fans kick in as he lays there body almost like jelly. He trails gentle digits across their cheek, “what are you doing?” he asked with a static to his voice. 

They continue drinking up his transfluid, trying not to let it drip down onto the berth, eager lips taking as much as they physically can, their smaller body leant against his thighs as they clean him. “enjoying myself” they chuckle. His systems sink into peace, welcoming the touch as they devoted attention to every crease of his plating. They are dedicated to making sure no drop goes to waste, worshipping each sensor until static fades into serenity. 

“never thought you'd taste like Blue V” they chuckle while lapping up more of him, when they do finally pull away from his spike it's with a loud pop. 

"I think I'm going to have to make this a common thing, because i rather enjoy how nice you taste," they call out. Their tongue is stained pink but they continue sucking the sweet tasting liquid from his plating. Optimus ventilates softly at their suggestion, optics half lidded. 

Optimus vents softly as recharge's gentle tide pulls at weary systems so recently stirred alive. His frame relaxes into deepening rest with a contented rumble, his human's smaller form nestled safe against his thighs and interface panel still thrumming warmth. Their face pressed into the metal as they find sleep against his form. 

“You did what with a human!?” Ratchet nearly shouts, he looks ready to fall over when Optimus inquires about the effect of Transfluid on a human's system. 

“Ratchet please, I will explain but I need to know if it is harmful to a human” he pleads. He's worried about his human ward. 

Ratchet sighs as both Ratchet and Optimus stand there researching the effects. 

“no it isn't harmful, but you are now getting a full check up and you are going to explain how this happened!” Ratchet growls as he points a digit at the Prime. 

[hyallulonelyhime]

Hyahime presents: That time when a jsk became an ironing board cover..

Today i'm sharing a classic from cgl many of you have definitely heard about: The ironing board fiasco. The story of a girl, her dad's fiance and many feels.

Everything started when OP shared this image and said the following:

Due to some unusual circumstances, I'm currently living in a partially-renovated house with my dad and his fiancé.

His fiancé is a very sweet lady who is very thrifty. She makes all her own clothes and and will usually find a practical use for something, rather than throw it out (i.e recycling old bottles and jars to pot plants).

I had a Baby The Stars Shine Bright Strawberry and Cherry Ruffle jumperskirt that I didn't wear anymore, so I was planning to sell it. From memory, it cost about $400.

I put it out in the main room next to a pile of clothes I planned to donate to Good Sammies, so I'd remember to take photos of it for the sale. I then went away for a week to visit my grandparents

When I came back, I noticed the pile of clothes had disappeared. Cool, my dad and/or his fiancé had donated them for me. But wait… Where was the jumperskirt?

It was then that I saw the sight portrayed in the uploaded. My dress had been cut up to to make an ironing board cover and a tablecloth. I don't know where the rest of the material is.

It appeared that my dad's fiancé had assumed the jumperskirt was part of the donation pile, and thought there was no harm in 'recycling' it for her own uses. In her efforts to pretty up the concrete-y wasteland of a house, she had unknowingly destroyed an expensive brand dress.

Literally the only thing I could do in that moment was stare blankly. I can't even be mad at her, she had no idea.

So now I have a BTSSB ironing board and table cloth.

the story immediately caught the attention of users as they scrolled. Some found it terrible, others couldn't help but laugh..

Though some were quick to say it must've been fake.

So.. did OP fake this for attention? Let's investigate.

It is very unlikely the fabric was gathered from a replica, judging by the print details and the fact that this isn't a very sought-after or popular piece you'd see everywhere.

But how did one dress result in so much fabric? Although it looks like a lot, one anon pointed this out:

But she knew she'd get the attention, right? ...yes, but I don't think anyone would come up with this specific odd way to recycle a lolita piece and make the community react.

OP responded to the questions and thoughts with the following:

At this point, some anons were pretty much just fighting over if it's okay for OP to be so calm or not. Which.. is a little bit weird. Others were more emotional about this than the victim themselves.

But what you may not know is.. there's more. There's more to the Kawaiironing fiasco.

Op comes back.

I queried the whereabouts of the remaining material and she showed me. She said my dad told her I was "throwing them out" (I have no idea where he drew that conclusion as i specifically said I was donating a bunch of clothes, so at the very least he should have assumed I was, you know, donating them), so she thought it was fine to cut up. My fault anyway, didn't separate the "sell" pile from the "donate" pile. HOWEVER… There were a few other brand dresses I was planning to sell. I assumed they had been donated with the rest of my clothes, as they were nowhere to be found. I was a little sad about that (they were valuable Angelic Pretty, BBSTB and Metamorphose), but oh well. Then I looked in her material bag and found they had also been cut up… When dad said I was "throwing THEM" out, he did not state a plural by accident… Pics to follow.

If anyone wants individual versions of those pics lemme know.

The loli gods frown upon me today for my unbecoming carelessness in handling burando.

Op decided to keep the truth a secret: ignorance is bliss, and her stepmother did not deserve to feel the guilt of ruining so much burando.. or to know that so many lolitas were in shambles knowing about her crafts.

..Although, anons said this wouldn't stop her from doing it again. Maybe she should know so she doesn't cut up even more dresses.

One thing is certain. that's a really cute ironing board cover. Maybe the fabric could become even more random burando stuff: headbows, little makeup bags, cup coasters, mats.. oven mitts?

Lolita home goods for all! we demand a cute life!(✧∀✧)/

[dbphantom]

I'm a OP manga reader, sell me on watching G-8

Sure!

G-8 is post Skypiea filler and starts with the Strawhats landing right in the middle of a walled-in marine base after they fall from the sky island. They have to figure out how to escape this 'impenetrable fortress' with Merry without anyone getting captured or killed.

To do this, most of them go undercover and infiltrate the marines so they can buy time, regroup, and figure out a plan.

It goes about how you'd expect.

(If only Garp could see him now, lol).

The guy on the left in the above picture is this arc's amazing antagonist, Vice Admiral Jonathan.

He is so cool that he cameos in both Stampede and Film Z.

G-8 has some of the funniest jokes in the series, including this iconic scene:

The way it pairs off the Strawhats at the start leads to some great extended interactions between crew members who don't directly talk to each other too often, like Nami and Chopper + Usopp and Robin. They're all very in-character, too.

It also lets the Strawhats show off in their respective areas- Chopper ends up in the medical wing, Usopp works with the shipwright, Sanji is dragged to the kitchens...

[Spoilers in case you're not post Water-7]

It even takes time to emphasize the set-up for the Klabautermann reveal, just to make sure you remember it before the emotional gut punch that is Water-7.

[End spoilers]

It's got a really endearing and memorable cast of side characters as well, who all get roped into the Strawhats' shenanigans.

G-8 also has one of Robin's coolest outfits.

The entire arc is basically a 4D chess match between Jonathan and the Strawhats, except the entire crew is shoveling pieces into Luffy's mouth as fast as they can whenever Jonathan isn't looking.

G-8 is what I show people who want to get into OP, but don't know if they'd enjoy it. It's short (only about 11-12 episodes iirc) and it encompasses everything I really love about early One Piece. I think it's a great litmus test for if you'd like the vibes of the show as a whole. Also, it is so well-integrated into the story that most anime-onlys don't even realize it's filler unless they're told.

Honestly, I would put G-8 on the same entertainment level writing-wise as some of the better movies. It's fun to watch, the jokes are great, and the characters are all enjoyable. I really recommend giving it a go.

[warningsine]

Living online means never quite understanding what’s happening to you at a given moment. Why these search results? Why this product recommendation? There is a feeling—often warranted, sometimes conspiracy-minded—that we are constantly manipulated by platforms and websites.

So-called dark patterns, deceptive bits of web design that can trick people into certain choices online, make it harder to unsubscribe from a scammy or unwanted newsletter; they nudge us into purchases. Algorithms optimized for engagement shape what we see on social media and can goad us into participation by showing us things that are likely to provoke strong emotional responses. But although we know that all of this is happening in aggregate, it’s hard to know specifically how large technology companies exert their influence over our lives.

This week, Wired published a story by the former FTC attorney Megan Gray that illustrates the dynamic in a nutshell. The op-ed argued that Google alters user searches to include more lucrative keywords. For example, Google is said to surreptitiously replace a query for “children’s clothing” with “NIKOLAI-brand kidswear” on the back end in order to direct users to lucrative shopping links on the results page. It’s an alarming allegation, and Ned Adriance, a spokesperson for Google, told me that it’s “flat-out false.” Gray, who is also a former vice president of the Google Search competitor DuckDuckGo, had seemingly misinterpreted a chart that was briefly presented during the company’s ongoing U.S. et al v. Google trial, in which the company is defending itself against charges that it violated federal antitrust law. (That chart, according to Adriance, represents a “phrase match” feature that the company uses for its ads product; “Google does not delete queries and replace them with ones that monetize better as the opinion piece suggests, and the organic results you see in Search are not affected by our ads systems,” he said.)

Gray told me, “I stand by my larger point—the Google Search team and Google ad team worked together to secretly boost commercial queries, which triggered more ads and thus revenue. Google isn’t contesting this, as far as I know.” In a statement, Chelsea Russo, another Google spokesperson, reiterated that the company’s products do not work this way and cited testimony from Google VP Jerry Dischler that “the organic team does not take data from the ads team in order to affect its ranking and affect its result.” Wired did not respond to a request for comment. Last night, the publication removed the story from its website, noting that it does not meet Wired’s editorial standards.

It’s hard to know what to make of these competing statements. Gray’s specific facts may be wrong, but the broader concerns about Google’s business—that it makes monetization decisions that could lead the product to feel less useful or enjoyable—form the heart of the government’s case against the company. None of this is easy to untangle in plain English—in fact, that’s the whole point of the trial. For most of us, evidence about Big Tech’s products tends to be anecdotal or fuzzy—more vibes-based than factual. Google may not be altering billions of queries in the manner that the Wired story suggests, but the company is constantly tweaking and ranking what we see, while injecting ads and proprietary widgets into our feed, thereby altering our experience. And so we end up saying that Google Search is less useful now or that shopping on Amazon has gotten worse. These tools are so embedded in our lives that we feel acutely that something is off, even if we can’t put our finger on the technical problem.

That’s changing. In the past month, thanks to a series of antitrust actions on behalf of the federal government, hard evidence of the ways that Silicon Valley’s biggest companies are wielding their influence is trickling out. Google’s trial is under way, and while the tech giant is trying to keep testimony locked down, the past four weeks have helped illustrate—via internal company documents and slide decks like the one cited by Wired—how Google has used its war chest to broker deals and dominate the search market. Perhaps the specifics of Gray’s essay were off, but we have learned, for instance, how company executives considered adjusting Google’s products to lead to more “monetizable queries.” And just last week, the Federal Trade Commission filed a lawsuit against Amazon alleging anticompetitive practices. (Amazon has called the suit “misguided.”)

Filings related to that suit have delivered a staggering revelation concerning a secretive Amazon algorithm code-named Project Nessie. The particulars of Nessie were heavily redacted in the public complaint, but this week The Wall Street Journal revealed details of the program. According to the unredacted complaint, a copy of which I have also viewed, Nessie—which is no longer in use—monitored industry prices of specific goods to determine whether competitors were algorithmically matching Amazon’s prices. In the event that competitors were, Nessie would exploit this by systematically raising prices on goods across Amazon, encouraging its competitors to follow suit. Amazon, via the algorithm, knew that it would be able to charge more on its own site, because it didn’t have to worry about being undercut elsewhere, thereby making the broader online shopping experience worse for everyone. An Amazon spokesperson told the Journal that the FTC is mischaracterizing the tool, and suggested that Nessie was a way to monitor competitor pricing and keep price-matching algorithms from dropping prices to unsustainable levels (the company did not respond to my request for comment).

In the FTC’s telling, Project Nessie demonstrates the sheer scope of Amazon’s power in online markets. The project arguably amounted to a form of unilateral price fixing, where Amazon essentially goaded its competitors into acting like cartel members without even knowing they’d done so—all while raising prices on consumers. It’s an astonishing form of influence, powered by behind-the-scenes technology.

The government will need to prove whether this type of algorithmic influence is illegal. But even putting legality aside, Project Nessie is a sterling example of the way that Big Tech has supercharged capitalistic tendencies and manipulated markets in unnatural and opaque ways. It demonstrates the muscle that a company can throw around when it has consolidated its position in a given sector. The complaint alleges that Amazon’s reach and logistics capabilities force third-party sellers to offer products on Amazon and for lower prices than other retailers. Once it captured a significant share of the retail market, Amazon was allegedly able to use algorithmic tools such as Nessie to drive prices up for specific products, boosting revenues and manipulating competitors.

Reading about Project Nessie, I was surprised to feel a sense of relief. In recent years, customer-satisfaction ratings have dipped among Amazon shoppers who have cited delivery disruptions, an explosion of third-party sellers, and poor-quality products as reasons for frustration. In my own life and among friends and relatives, there has been a growing feeling that shopping on the platform has become a slog, with fewer deals and far more junk to sift through. Again, these feelings tend to occupy vibe territory: Amazon’s bigness seems stifling or grating in ways that aren’t always easy to explain. But Nessie offers a partial explanation for this frustration, as do revelations about Google’s various product adjustments. We have the sense that we’re being manipulated because, well, we are. It’s a bit like feeling vaguely sick, going to the doctor, and receiving a blood-test result confirming that, yes, the malaise you experienced is actually an iron deficiency. It is the catharsis of, at long last, receiving a diagnosis.

This is the true power of the surge in anti-monopoly litigation. (According to experts in the field, September was “the most extraordinary month they have ever seen in antitrust.”) Whether or not any of these lawsuits results in corporate breakups or lasting change, they are, effectively, an MRI of our sprawling digital economy—a forensic look at what these larger-than-life technology companies are really doing, and how they are exerting their influence and causing damage. It is confirmation that what so many of us have felt—that the platforms dictating our online experiences are behaving unnaturally and manipulatively—is not merely a paranoid delusion, but the effect of an asymmetrical relationship between the giants of scale and us, the users.

In recent years, it’s been harder to love the internet, a miracle of connectivity that feels ever more bloated, stagnant, commercialized, and junkified. We are just now starting to understand the specifics of this transformation—the true influence of Silicon Valley’s vise grip on our lives. It turns out that the slow rot we might feel isn’t just in our heads, after all.

[harrysfolklore]

thinking about yn taking bubba into the phone booth and leaving a cute message for harry 🥹 -🫶

STOP DOING THIS TO ME. I CANT STOP WRITING ABOUT THEM

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated ! | if you like what i post consider sending me a tip <3

PHONE BOOTH MESSAGES

With your three year old in hand and covered in your husband’s merch, you walked through the halls of Chicago’s United Center.

Harry was always skeptical about letting you and your baby go out of his sight and roam through the arenas, but he knew how important was for your son to be outside and interact with other people so he doesn’t get overwhelmed with the constant traveling that the tour life required.

Of course, his two bodyguards were following close behind you, he gave them the order to never leave the two of you alone or let anyone get too close to the point that it could be harmful. And they knew better than to let anything happen to the people their boss loved the most.

To celebrate Harry’s sold out shows at United Center, the arena set up different photo ops, Harry’s House themed spaces and what they called “Late Night Talking booths”, and that’s where you were both heading.

You absolutely loved the idea of fans recording messages for your husband that will be on a personalized vinyl for him, and you thought it was a great idea to surprise him with a message from his little bubba, who was getting more and more talkative by the second.

“Mummy, where we going?” he asked in a small voice and you bent down to pick him up, internally groaning because your baby surely got big.

“We’re going to record a message from daddy, baby. Over there in the red booth.” you pointed towards it as you got closer to the place, luckily, not many fans were inside the arena yet and the booth was empty.

“Love daddy.” he cooed, every time his dad was mentioned, he gave a similar reply, the little boy adored his dad more than anyone in the world.

“I know you do, baby.” you cooed back as one of Harry’s guards opened the booth’s door for you, you thanked him quickly before getting inside and grabbing the phone and placing it close to your boy’s little face.

“Go ahead baby, what do you want to tell daddy?” you told your him and it only took a few seconds until he started babbling and babbling about his favorite person.

You knew your husband was going to tear up when he played the vinyl and realized his baby’s voice was there.

//

The five sold out shows in Chicago were a bliss. You got to enjoy watching Harry doing what he loves the most in the world, and you got to show your son that what his daddy did was something special.

Of course, Harry couldn’t help but mention your baby any chance he got, multiple videos of him saying stuff like “My bubba is in the audience tonight!”, “Look at my bubba, isn’t he cute, he’s so cute” we’re already viral on all social media platforms.

Now you were in your Los Angeles home, getting some rest before he had to go back to playing shows there. Sitting in your large couch with tea mugs in hand and watching your baby play with his plush toys on the floor, you knew it was the perfect opportunity to get him to listen to the vinyl.

“You haven’t played the vinyl they gave you in Chicago, have you lovie?” you asked him as you cuddled to his side, putting your hand on his chest and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw the engagement ring and wedding band -matching his- resting on your finger.

“I surely haven’t, honey. Let me get it and let’s listen to it now, I’m curious about what kind of messages are there” he kissed your hand as he stood up and went on to look for the vinyl, he put it on the record player you kept at your lounging room and his fan’s voices echoed through the room.

You surely got emotional at some of their messages, some saying meaningful stuff like “Thank you for saving my life” “I met my fiancé because of you” “You helped me when no one else did”, and other messages were rather funny, with stuff like “Thanks for draining my bank account” “I skipped school to be here but it was worth it”.

But it was when the little babbles and toddler voice was heard around the room when you fully turned to your husband to see his reaction.

“Who’s that? That’s my bubba, isn’t it?” he said with a small smile as the he heard his little baby babbling stuff like “I love daddy. Daddy is the best and he gives the best hugs”

“Oh baby” Harry cooed as he picked his baby up from the carpet and placed him on his lap, the boy instantly giggling and wrapping his little arms around him “You recorded that for daddy, and your mummy was a cheeky little thing and didn’t tell me” he obnoxiously kissed the boy’s cheeks making him squeal and laugh.

The three of you were the perfect little family, and Harry thanked his lucky stars every night for that.

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight t @daydreamingofmatilda @sunflowervolume66 @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore e @leadmetogarden @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @ivegotparticulartaste @eviesaurusrex @olivialovesh @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @gumballavocadoharry @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas s @rafeyyyyy @tinydeskwriter r @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry

[barefoothighlander]

absolution - to be alone

-simon ‘ghost’ riley x wife!reader

-warnings: mdni (18+) angst, canon typical violence, death, kidnapping, mentions of blood

-word count: 3.5k

-summary: the secret of your marriage gets out and you and Ghost have to deal with the consequences

prev chapter masterlist

a/n: fair bit of violence this chapter, apologies that it took so long to write I’m having insane writers block, not proofread

“What do you mean Price knows” His voice was calm, he never yelled at you but for some reason you wished he was. His stoic state making you even more nervous,

“I had to tell him Simon he knew something was up”

“He didn’t know shit”

“Whatever he did, or didn’t know, or thought he knew, it doesn’t matter. He knows now, he understands why we didn’t tell him but atleast that weights of our chest”

“It’s not off our chest, what happens when he had to put it in our files? When he accidentally let’s slip that we’re married?”

“He wouldn’t do that”

“And you know that how?”

“Because you trust him, you’ve trusted him for years”

“Yea well the people you trust can hurt you the most” He says, standing to leave the room,

“Simon please, I’m sorry”

“It doesn’t matter now”

He closes the door and your emotions hit you, you regret everything about your decision to go to Price, but the sinking feeling in your chest wouldn’t let up until you told him. He had been surprised at first, he just assumed that the two of you were hooking up, he had no idea that you were married let alone knew each other prior to the mission, your file had pages about your previous ops but none mentioned the Lieutenant. Price was understanding in your secrecy, a little offended that Simon didn’t trust him with the knowledge but understanding none the less, he promised to keep it from the team no matter what and that was good enough for you.

Simon on the other hand wanted to wring the Captains neck, he could try to threaten him into sworn secrecy but he knew it wouldn’t work, he was furious. His only rule for your relationship being that it stayed between the two of you, and now it was compromised, yes he trusted Price with his life, but not with yours.

Simon marched his way to Prices office, his hands clenched at him sides as he knocked on the door, opening it once he heard the Captains voice.

“Simon”

“Sir”

“I understand congratulations are in order”

“Don’t”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You know why”

“I’ve read everything in your file, i know about your past, your family”

Simon winces at the mention

“You can trust me with this son”

“You need to take her off the op”

“You know you can’t make that request”

“I’m not asking as her Lieutenant”

“She’s an imperative part to this op”

“Find another sniper”

Before Price can respond Simon breezes out of the room, a cloud of fury following behind him as he storms through the halls to his shacks. He releases a deep breath, pulling his mask from his head once he’s inside. He felt betrayed, a vow as sacred as the ones you made the day you got married and you had broken it, technically he understood why, you were never great under pressure from higher ranks, he knew you couldn’t keep a lot of things to yourself given all the gossip you had told him over the years, but he trusted you with this.

He feared for you mostly, he knew he was in danger everyday, he had enemies across the globe and if word got out that you were married, a big red target would paint itself on your back. He didn’t want to think of the things his enemies would do to you in order to get to him, it made his stomach churn.

You stand in your quarters, thinking of all the things you could say, how you could apologize, and nothing comes to mind. You understand the weight of your decision but you’ve had people trying to kill your for years, you’ve made enemies of your own, you huff a breath holding yourself high.

You walk down the halls to Simons quarters before Price calls you into his office,

“Yes sir?”

“I have a favour to ask”

“Sir if it’s anything about my private life I ask that you keep it to yourself”

“It’s nothing about that Strider, trust I’ll keep that information confidential”

You nod “What do you need”

“I need recon on the building, you’re the only one with training that suits the op”

“Are you sure”

“I need the others here, you’re my only option Sargent”

“When do you need me”

“You have 3 hours to prep, a car will drop you at your view point and you’re alone from there, it’s a 3 day op but you’ll have comms”

“You need me to watch for three days?”

“There’s intel stating a transfer will occur within the week, I need your eyes to track movement”

“So no engagement”

“You do not have execute authority”

You nod, “Okay”

You leave his office, your argument with Simon gone from your mind, replaced with the anxiety of your mission. You approach his door and knock, you hear shuffling in the room before he opens it.

“Hi”

He opens the door to let you in, his head leaking out to make sure the hallways were clear. You glance around the room, his desk is a mess with open pages,

“You’re writing again?”

“Just, had some stuff I needed to get out”

“Si”

“I don’t want to fight about it, what’s done is done”

“Okay.. I’m leaving for a few days”

“What do you mean? You’re going home?”

“No”

He raises an eyebrow in question,

“Solo recon”

“Absolutely not”

“Simon please”

“Is he trying to punish me for not telling him about us?”

“What are you talking about”

“He’s sending you out alone, to punish me”

“Simon no one’s punishing you, this is the reason Price asked for me”

“I don’t want you out there with no backup”

“I’ll have comms to the base, I won’t be close enough for them to get anywhere near me”

Simon’s skin heats with anger, you move toward him, hands holding his at his side as you try to calm him.

“I’ll do this, then i’ll go home” You say with a heavy breath. You feel his muscles loosen slightly, his head moving down so his eyes can stare into yours, those dark orbs so full of emotion.

“Three days” He says and you nod, bringing your cheek to rest against his chest, his hands moving to roam your back.

“Three days and i’m back home”

“Safe” He mutters, his arms holding you against him.

You leave Simons room a few minutes later, bidding your goodbyes before moving to your quarters to pack your gear. You have 20 minutes before you have to meet your car, you’re breathing deeply, the mission wasn’t rare to you, spending time alone peering from rooftops was practically half your job in your last team, but being there, knowing Simon was only so far away. You knew he risked his life every time he left, you never asked the details, you didn’t want to stress about every little thing, this felt different, you were so close yet so far apart, you throw your bag over your shoulder and walk towards the outer doors.

Ghost is standing beside the car, his arms crossed over his chest.

“What are you doing here”

“I’m driving you, Captain owed me a favour”

You scoff at him jokingly before loading into the vehicle, as the two of you drive off. Your position wasn’t that far, about a 40 minute drive till you got dropped off and had to walk the rest of the way.

“Keep channel 4 open, that’s where you’ll contact me”

“I’m only supposed to talk to Price”

“Keep it open” He says with a glare, his gloved hand moving to rest on your thigh. You watch the terrain pass you by as you keep driving, dry mountains breezing past your eyesight. You arrive at an dirt road and Ghost turns the engine off, he sits silently for a few minutes, his free hand roaming across the wheel before you turn your body, taking his hand in yours.

“It’ll be okay”

“I know”

“I’m very good at what I do”

“I know that too”

“I’ll see you in three days”

He huffs a breath and nods, hands moving to pull his mask up slightly before leaning in to kiss you, he holds your cheek deepening the kiss before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours.

“Just be careful”

You squeeze his hand tenderly before stepping out of the car and grabbing your gear.

“I love you” You say

“I love you too doll”

You begin walking away, while Ghosts sits in the car until your figure fades from view, there was nothing he could do now but leave, he had to trust you.

Your walk was harsh, the dry terrain mixed with the beaming sun doing damage to your lungs, huffing your way across the ground before you made it to the small city, navigating around back alleys. You locate your view point, climbing an outer ladder to reach the top, sneaking into an open window where you position yourself, your scope settling on the target building in the distance.

“Alpha leader this is Strider how copy?”

“Good copy Strider, are you in position”

“Affirm”

“Alright, keep eyes, take note of any movement in or out, I want a head count”

“Copy, out”

You settle in to your position, eyes locked onto the building for signs of movement. Hours pass without anyone going in or out, you’ve traded your scope for spotting binoculars as the sun went down slowly, the warm air encompassing you in the abandoned building. No movement anywhere that you could see, no cars, no people, you had no idea what you were looking for.

Night falls and you have to toss your visionary aids aside, relying on trying to spot lights from the building, there’s a single room illuminated, you can see through the window but you can’t make out any bodies. You return to your scope in hopes of recognizing someone in the room, watching but you see no shadows or movement.

“Strider how copy?” Ghosts voice rings through your comms.

“Hey babe”

“Keep it professional, may have prying ears”

“Copy”

“You alright”

“No movement, getting bored”

“Bored is better than dead”

You huff a laugh, “That’s true”

“How are things on base?”

“Price wants us shipping out in the morning”

“So you’ll be gone when I get back”

“Most likely”

“Alright” You try to hide the sadness in your voice

“He thinks the mission should be finished within the the next weeks”

“Oh”

“I’ll be home with you before you know it”

“I’ll be waiting”

“I have to go, be safe”

“I love you Simon”

“I’ll see you at home”

You smile, only a handful of days and you’d be back home, safe with your husband, not worrying about the state of his life, just enjoying being with eachother.

“Strider this is Price”

“Sir”

“Reports of a convoy moving near your position, do you have eyes”

You take a minute too look around, your scope landing on a group of trucks passing by a road.

“Copy, count 5 vehicles”

“Are they carrying anything”

“Negative, doesn’t look to be any cargo”

“What about people”

“Count maybe 17 men, all armed”

“Do you see our hostage”

“Sir I thought this was recon”

“Do you have eyes Strider”

You look around, “Sir is that?”

“Affirm, you see her?”

“Affirm Sir, I have eyes on the hostage, she’s bound, they’re moving her into the house”

“Copy, keep watch, do not engage under any circumstances”

“Copy Sir”

Your comms go silent as you watch the scene in front of you, a middle aged woman with blonde hair has her arms bound behind her, a cloth mask over her eyes as the group of men force her towards the building before disappearing inside. You aim your scope at the windows, trying to get a view but all the curtains are drawn, you can vaguely make out shadows passing by.

You watch as the figures look by the windows, they sit the women down in a chair, 3 men gathered around her. You can’t make anything out, adjusting your scope to get a closer look before your eyes sting from the light, one of the men had opened the curtains to look outside, leaving them that way, enough space for you to get a clear view.

They’re yelling something, speaking to each other, you watch the woman tremble and flinch every time one of them shouts. You know your orders but every bone in your body is urging you to help.

“Sir permission to assist”

“Negative, do not interfere”

“Captain they’re going to kill her”

“Your orders are to watch Sargent”

“Sir”

“Do not engage”

You think over your options, your instincts taking over, fuck it I’m off the team either way.

You race down the side of the building, disassembling your rifle for close range shots, your legs are moving faster than your mind as you sprint towards the building, you find a high point and settle into the grass. There’s atleast 15 hostiles in the building, you scope around, 7 outside scattered, you can pick them off.

“Strider, report”

“Sorry Sir”

You take your ear piece out, with a deep breath you push yourself from the ground, hastily moving through the darkness, advancing towards the house. You make your way around the back, pulling out your knife, one man turns the corner and you grab him, digging your knife into the side of his neck as his body drops.

You make your way around the perimeter, killing them one by one, your breath heavy for the exertion. You find the last man, your hand moving to cover his mouth as you slice his throat, the blood pouring from his wound coating your skin seven down, eight to go. Your whole body feels sticky, covered in a layer of blood, sweat and dirt as you wipe off your knife, putting it away in favour of your sidearm.

You attach the silencer and open the front doors, immediately firing off two rounds into the heads of the men.

six

You turn your body, peering around corners, there’s one in the kitchen.

five

You clear the bottom floor, slowly inching up the stairs, one at the top and you shoot him, his body falls down the steps, landing with a thud, you pray it wasn’t loud enough to alert anyone. You start upstairs, clearing the rooms, two are arguing in the office.

two left.

You clear the rest of the area, making your way to the large bedroom at the end of the hall, even through the men arguing you can hear Prices yells through your comms.

You take a breath, counting your bullets, you had three left. You open the door firing one off into the head of the man in front of you, the woman in the chair screaming as the shot rings through the air.

You move to fire at the other man but he grabs your hand, you miss. He pushes you to the ground, your bodies fighting for control as his weight pins you, your arms reach for your gun as his hands grasp around your throat. You’re thrashing under him trying to throw him off, choking for air as he tightens his grip.

Your vision spotty as you lose strength,

“Strider! Get out now!” Ghosts voice comes through your comms, enough to bring you back as your fingers feel for your weapon, grabbing it and hitting it against the man’s temple. He releases you, stumbling over your body as you brave yourself and shoot, his body falls onto you with a thud, his blood pooling around your head as you gasp for air.

You use all your strength to push him off, steadying yourself before stepping towards the woman, she’s writhing against her constraints.

“It’s okay, you’re safe, i’m gonna get you out”

You slowly pull the mask from her eyes, they’re bloodshot and pooled with tears.

“I’m with Captain Price, I’m gonna get you home”

She’s a wreck of choked sobs as you cut her constraints, her body falls against you as you hold her up, walking her out. She’s looking around as the mess of bodies, clinging to you as you descent the stairs.

You exit the building, walking slowly in tandem with her as you reach a patch of grass tall enough for cover.

“Here, sit down” You hand her a small bottle of water and she takes it with shaky hands, gulping down the liquid before settling.

“Thank you”

“Does she know you’re here” You ask

The woman nods, “She watched them take me”

Your hand moves to slowly caress her arm, a small attempt to comfort her.

“Price”

“Sergeant you better have a goddamn explanation”

“I have the hostage, she’s safe”

Price signs deeply, “Are you hurt”

“Negative”

“Get her to the city, we’ll extract from there”

“Copy Sir”

You sit for a while, allowing the woman to compose herself before you help her up, the two of you making your way back to the streets of Panama.

The noise was overwhelming, a stark contrast from the silence you kept the last 24 hours, you find an old building, smashing the window to access the door lock before guiding her in.

“Shouldn’t be long”

She nods

“Does she know I’m safe, does Kate know?”

“I don’t think so”

“Okay”

Ghosts voice calls through your earpiece, “Strider, what’s you position”

“In an old building, northeast end of the city, there’s a small restaurant across the street”

“Copy, closing in”

You wait in silence, the sound of tires passing over dirt grabs your attention, you move to the window to look outside. You see Price and Ghost exit the car, looking around for hostiles, you move back to settle at the woman’s side,

“Okay” You touch her shoulder

“Monica, my names Monica”

“Okay Monica, my team is here, they’re gonna bring you back to our base where the doctor will check you out, then we’ll get you home”

“You trust them?”

“With my life”

She nods, you lock your arms under her shoulders, helping her to stand as the two men enter the building, dropping their weapons when they spot you.

“Jesus christ Strider, did you kill then all yourself”

“Something like that”

Price takes over hold on Monica, helping her to the car as Simon stands in front of you, his eyes staring daggers.

“Si”

“I don’t want to hear it, you’ll go home tonight”

“What, I have to make sure she’s safe”

“The team will take over, you disobeyed direct orders. You’re going home Sargent”

You stand to argue but he just turns and leaves, you’re alone in your anger before you walk to the car, settling in beside Monica in the back as Price turns the engine on. The ride was dead silent, not a word exchanged between the four of you, Monica had stopped shaking by the time you arrived back at base.

You help her out of the car, moving to help her inside before Price stops you,

“Your flights in two hours, be on deck before then”

You stare at him, unable to hide the disappointment in your face as you walk to the medical wing. You get Monica settled in to the bed and she falls asleep almost instantly, the stress taking a toll on her body. You sit with her for a few minutes, ensuring that she was okay before you move to your room to shower.

The water runs red as you wash the blood from your skin, feeling like you could finally breath, you need to talk to Simon but you don’t know what to say. You know if you leave base angry it won’t do you any good, he didn’t do well with emotions, he’d bottle them up before even dating to expose himself.

You spend some time packing your things, making sure to grab everything, your hands toying with the ring around your neck making your way to the plane deck.

Simon is standing in front of your plane, you move to him with regret in your eyes, your arms wrapping to envelop him but he pushes you back.

“Keep it together”

“I’m sorry Si”

“No time for that now” His hand moves to grab yours, his thumb rubbing tender circles over the skin. “I’ll see you at home”

He leaves without another word, you watch his form recede before stepping into the plane, the sound of the engine drowning out anything else before you feel yourself lift into the air. You’re filled with dread as you watch the base get smaller, you won’t be able to contact your husband for upwards of a month, and your last memory is him mad at you, you hated arguing in any form.

You lean your head back, settling in as the plane reaches the clouds, closing your eyes in an attempt to dream of anything but your anxiety.

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