#not that they sold fresh food anyway

[shoku-and-awe]

I had a couple really wonderful porcini mushroom dishes earlier this year and have been absolutely haunted ever since. Porcini aren't widely available in Japan, and they're definitely not cheap, so I've been trying to control my craving for ages, like some kind of angsty 90s vampire, but I finally broke down and bought this porcini cream flavored instant soup pasta.

I'm not a soup pasta person, but this was surprisingly pretty satisfying. The pasta was still a little crunchy after the printed cooking time, but the broth was much more porcini-y than I'd even hoped! I was expecting a generic mushroom flavor (which *was* the case with the mushroom pieces) or maybe—in the worst case—that awful, cloying fake truffle flavor, but no, this did deliver! Especially considering price and availability.

[llatimeria]

The most important invention of the 2020s so far is chocolate-dipped fruits that you can just buy in bags in the freezer aisle of many groceries. please for the love of god keep this up

[obstinaterixatrix]

Also it looks like I’ll be taking ex-coworker out for pho this weekend, she’s never had it before :V if I’m being evil and strategic, I won’t tell her that it’s a cash only place so I can pay her back for the burger. but I suppose the fair thing to do is give her autonomy and fight over the bill on equal terms rather than having an unfair advantage.

[kennys-parka-jacket]

Last post got me thinking. It's the most random thing to make headcanons on, but it got me thinking

[moonbaby26]

Title: Before the Storm

(Chapter 17 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader

Chapter Warnings: language, binge drinking, vaginal sex, toxic relationship, dubious consent, depression

Chapter Synopsis: The very night of your official engagement to Doflamingo, you are also made to sign your life away to Dressrosa’s king.

You spiral, punishing yourself as he plans to change your past even further. While others still move as distant pieces in the even larger game. 

Author’s Notes: For those that do follow this story and read as soon as it updates, I’m so sorry you had to wait 5,000 years this time! I wish there was more here as a reward for that patience. I’m sure there are still typos too. Please proceed with caution! It just needed to be out of my drafts. I’ll proofread after I sleep again. Maybe. 😅

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5, 6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

——————————

—————————— 

Something was going wrong with the submarine again. Nothing catastrophic, but it could always progress to that if they didn’t take the time to investigate and repair as they went. Pieces became worn and overtaxed easily. Noises that weren’t even there yesterday would suddenly manifest, anxiety inducing, so many fathoms deep in the darkness.

Law was sure there was a metaphor for their lives in there somewhere too. Just like he and his crew. How much this craft could really endure, until one day it just wouldn’t anymore.

He’d still felt that mental weight on himself as well. Fresh and nagging ever since Doflamingo’s name had been put back to the forefront of his mind with those first reports from Scylla just days ago.

Ghosts of his past had churned up enough that Law was almost glad when that bearing in the engine room had started making a newer, awful whining sound.

It was excuse enough to breach the surface and focus on anything else as they’d headed for another island to both look for parts and avoid the heavier than normal marine patrols in this region of the North Blue.

There’d been a pirate attack on a nearby island called Orlinde. At least that’s what Law had heard. Some shithole port town there, with no real wealth or industry of its own had been burned to the ground. And it hadn’t made much sense as to why. Seemingly foolish to risk the ire of the navy when there’d be no treasure or significant beri to even be had in a place like that.

But whatever the reasoning for those other pirates, their actions there had the marines now swarming. To the point that it funneled anyone actively trying to avoid arrest or other harassment further east.

To an unaffiliated island chain that Law had ordered his crew to then disembark at. All save for Bepo anyway, as strolling through the center of town with an overly nervous ball of white fluff wouldn’t have helped much in their bid to keep a low profile.

They had intended to be here just long enough to find what they needed and to make repairs. But every other outlaw in the area had much the same idea. Crew after crew camping out here as an easy stopover while waiting for the larger marine presence to die down nearby.

And this many egos all right on top of each other became a perfect powder keg for disaster really.

Shachi and Penguin were now on either side of their captain, trying to look as unbothered as he seemed while all three boys stuck tightly together.

They walked past the crowded stores and food stalls. With drunken cursing, and all other sounds of debauchery already going on this soon after sunset.

An old man at the harbor had said there was a store in this direction that sold supplies for ship building. It was worth a try to start there first.

But that unsettled feeling was still in Law’s mind. He was too inexperienced to fully understand it yet. The unnamed intuition which had more to do with what would be happening rather than just what could.

“Hey, Spots!”

And there, a male voice had called out loudly. The first inkling of trouble just this soon.

Law’s eyes had flitted up to an open doorway of one of the bars farther up the street. But the teen kept walking, silent to show his crew he expected much the same from them.

Yet the stranger’s second try to get their attention was even louder than the first, as the owner of that voice stepped into the muddy street in front of them. “Hey, I’m talking to you, you prick!”

And Law did stop reluctantly then, not in fear, but in annoyance. He knew an immediate waste of his time when he saw one.

The man that’d been yelling was about his own age though. Young and snide with a grinning girl under one arm. The man’s other hand held a large blade that now pointed towards Law and his crew.

“Are you hard of hearing? I mean that’s what’s on your hat, right? Black spots? You all look damn stupid I think. But my girl likes your hat. So how much do you want for it, kid?”

The stranger sounded a bit drunk actually. And the girl ribbed him in her reaction. “Fur is in fashion, Sarquiss! So don’t be so stingy. Make them an offer! You know Joker’s gonna pay us good this time regardless.“

Sarquiss? Joker? Those were just two more names that Law had never heard before. They meant nothing to him as the idiots continued to talk.

“This kid’s pretty skinny though. What if he freezes, baby? It’s awful cold out here.” The man smirked down at her, flirting abruptly in return as if he hadn’t just been the one that’d started this whole confrontation.

What kind of fool ever looked away while in the middle of threatening someone though? 

These dolts would have been eaten alive in the ways Law had originally been taught. Because seeing the first opening only meant that the first move was his.

It would have been the first kill too if Law had still been that literal to those old teachings. But he left his own sword sheathed against his shoulder.

As it was now, he had no interest in making a scene. Law had planned to initiate a room and simply swap the blade that man held for some of the fresh horse shit he’d already noticed piled up along the street’s edge.

The resulting shock and disgust would have caused plenty of distraction for him, Shachi, and Penguin to quickly be on their way.

But that heavy feeling within Law had somehow remained, even as his hand and lips had begun to move with that whisper of a room.

A dread in him that was not explained until the moment that stranger’s coat had opened further with his playful movements against the girl.

And Law’s eyes had widened as he finally saw the distinct tattoo across that man’s chest. That feeling clicking in him as he knew the absolute mistake he was about to make even before it happened.

No.

He could not stop himself.

He didn’t want to.

“Takt.”

Shachi and Penguin’s surprised gasps were drowned out as the girl’s resulting scream met Law’s ears. 

Her boyfriend’s body had been ripped away from her without warning. And flung like a ragdoll, straight through the bar’s long window and all those wooden slats which supported it. 

It was a terribly loud crash, so many eyes then looking to Law and his friends from both sides of the street.

The Heart Pirates didn’t hesitate either.

“Go!” Law yelled. 

And all three of them had doubled back, beginning to sprint for the harbor.

——————————

Sarquiss had landed hard, stunned and sprawled on that barroom floor to the brief silence of so many other pirates inside. His own crew was chief among them.

The circular tattoo on his chest now smiled to the ceiling. Its left eye struck through, and its wide grin becoming accented with fresh red as blood began to seep from so many cuts dealt from that broken window.

“I don’t…I don’t know what happened.” Sarquiss stammered, bewildered and in pain as another pirate’s boots came to stand near his head. 

“Somebody got a cheap shot in while you were buzzed on this shit liquor. That’s all.” The owner of those boots scoffed indignantly. “They’re trying to ruin our party.” But Bellamy still grinned in a practiced copy of that now scratched up jolly roger on his first mate’s chest.

He motioned for his other crew to help Sarquiss up off of the floor while he strode for the door. “It’s fine. I was getting bored of this place anyway. Gladius said we only had to lay low for a day or so after Orlinde before we could put our flags back up.”

Bellamy stood in the doorway then, just seeing the backs of those other young pirates disappearing behind a building further down the street as they ran.

“So meet me back at the ship.” His legs were already coiling as he readied to jump and start clearing right over those buildings to catch up with them. “I’ll get us some fresh meat, and we’ll have a little fun while we wait on Joker’s next instructions.”

——————————

The return to the palace had come soon enough. And you were drinking whiskey straight by that point, no ice, no mixer. Right out of a fancy cabinet of top shelf bottles that likely weren’t meant for anyone but the king himself. 

You were still in uniform, but long off duty in your own mind. With one of your legs crossed over the other, and an arm over the back of Doflamingo’s couch in his office. 

Whatever anger remained in you for your lack of choice in all of this, was enough to keep even the three executives away. That danger must have been exuding in your body language still. Though you felt their eyes on you intermittently regardless.

They were here to witness your defeat, and to congratulate their master on his success in spinning this into exactly what he wanted it to be. 

But you were staring at nothing while they talked. Your gaze on an empty corner currently, and miles from this well appointed room as you drank yourself away just as you’d wanted to do on that dark beach earlier this evening.

You were quietly furious for this treatment. But you also believed you were every bit as responsible for how quickly this relationship had escalated.

No one had picked up or dialed your phone for you the night you’d first called Doflamingo and asked him to meet you in Scylla.

No one had actually put a gun to your head and drug you into that beautiful church to wait for him alone.

No one had told you to fall for him.

Regardless of any blackmail he’d used to this point, you could have been less willing to let it work. You could have told the truth from the beginning and hid behind your betters. Tsuru, Aokiji, or likely even so many others who would have at least tried to help you.

The truth would set you free.

Wasn’t that the old saying? What an optimistic mismatch of words.

More like the truth would cut your heart out and feed it to you with a smile.

“(Y/N).” And his voice did easily rise through that other chatter.

He was the only one here that still would make you pay attention as you looked back to Doflamingo’s desk. Where he now sat, binding you to him for life with each additional swipe of his pen.

“Answer the magistrate’s final questions. It’s required.” The warlord ordered you then, yet with a veil of patience not yet fully undone.

Besides yourself and Doflamingo, the only others in this room were the executives and the government official that had arrived with all those stacks of paperwork and questions.

Questions for you too that you’d mostly ignored, especially once you’d been several glasses into the whiskey.

While peasants may just do a quick hop over to the local justice of the peace and call it a night, anyone becoming property and consort to a world government endorsed king seemingly had far more to worry about.

And when your gaze did go back to that thin little government busybody, he reminded you only of a small rat. Fussing with his hands in such a nervous way as the papers shuffled through them. Like wringing little paws, frightened and stuck between all the monsters now in this room.

“Why can’t you answer everything for me?” You exhaled back to Doflamingo though, the accumulating burn of the whiskey making your body feel so warm at least as you finally responded to the pirate.

“Because that’s not how this works.” Doflamingo replied, still tolerating you even then somehow. 

Your eyebrows raised. “Yeah? Since when? Because that’s all I’ve ever seen here.” You answered. He always spoke for you. He chose for you. He was the perfectionist. He was the control freak.

And you were the idiot.

A depressed woman who’d attempted to bury all her problems with a devil, just to be as surprised as anyone when she’d inevitably woken up in hell for her efforts.

“What’s the next question?” Doflamingo just asked the official directly then, all while looking back down to the papers he was still signing.

That warlord didn’t explode, he didn’t even raise his voice that time.

And you didn’t dwell on it as you went back to drinking, having gotten what you wanted if even for a moment in being left alone.

It was only the executives that seemed to take notice, subtly surprised as Doflamingo allowed that little pushback.

“Ah, well…” The official still stammered. “Sire, the next section was about the verification of her birth status. She was born on the island of Orlinde, correct? Within the North Blue?”

“Yes. That’s already in her marine record.” Doflamingo’s tone was notably shorter with the official too, further confirming the clear difference in treatment you had just received.

“Well, there’s a slight discrepancy…a clerical error I’m sure.” That small man produced the weakest chuckle you’d ever heard. “I just needed her to say it was indeed an error.”

And Doflamingo did look back up at that, those facial muscles of his tightening in a way which never meant anything good. “What error?”

“The more discerning background check required for unions of this, um, level. It…it noted her name on the registry for Orlinde as being born to a…well, to a slave woman, sire.”

You felt the room change.

The official became even shakier too, horrified really as an inhuman growl came from that desk before the magistrate could say anything more.

“She was never born of a slave. So your first assumption of that being bad data was the correct one. Is that understood?”

And you were just watching. Observing these further lies as Doflamingo told them.

His lips were pulled back from his teeth in an expression you fully recognized too.

Note anything different and I’ll gut you where you goddamn stand. 

That’s what that energy so clearly said. 

“Of course, your highness! I’m fixing it now! I’ll correct it all immediately!”

You knew how fucked up it was for you just to be an observer to such bullying of the weak. You were supposed to protect others, even when they sniveled and whined like this man now was.

But you didn’t feel that guilty either as you uncrossed your legs and shifted on the couch.

And Doflamingo’s head turned the moment you had moved even that much again. 

You knew he had to do that, to properly see you at this angle. But something about that instant attention made you look at him even longer in return.

Because what did he think you were going to do?

What did he want you to do?

“King Doflamingo and Ms. (Y/N), that only leaves the oath itself…” The official’s fully uneasy voice interrupted those additional odd thoughts.

“Then go ahead.” The warlord commanded him just as quickly. “Read it to her.”

The official nodded, with a pen clutched in one of his sweating hands. And the final pages of all of that paperwork in the other as he looked down to read it.

“Ms. (Y/N)…do you hereby agree to loyalty until your death to King Donquixote Doflamingo of Dressrosa? Do you also understand the legal bindings of this union? And the consequences of non compliance, up to and including charges of treason against this aforementioned monarch and our World Government via his status as a sanctioned vessel beholden to our Holy Land of Mariejois?”

You really were too far gone for this shit.

So what? If you got into another fight and decked him when he deserved it, that’d now be the same as rebellion against the Red Line itself? Just because he was a government backed dictator?

Was arguing with him treason too? What about ever leaving this island? Was that desertion and dereliction of your soon to be wifely duties? 

Even signing your marine recruitment papers hadn’t felt this restrictive. And that’d been you literally agreeing to march to your own death if your commanding officers simply said to.

“Yeah…what else am I supposed to say?” You knew you weren’t going to be let out of this room otherwise. And you did want out as you stretched your legs away from you, still seated on that couch. 

Things were starting to feel too much for you again, like everything was closing in once more. “Fuck it…yes. I guess I do.” You forced another couple of breaths as you brought the whiskey glass to your lips again.

Or at least you’d tried to.

The strings that then looped around your wrist had jerked your hand hard enough to splash that liquid down the front of your shirt instead. Right before you were being pulled up and onto your feet.

“I already said yes, you-” You started to bitch at him immediately. It was hard enough to catch your balance when this inebriated without Doflamingo also pulling you so roughly to his desk.

“And I accept your agreement.” He laughed abruptly, cutting both you and the official off before any other response could be given.

It hurt you as your hips hit his desk. And with him already seated, he didn’t have to lean as far down to reach your mouth across that desk either.

Doflamingo got to taste the full brunt of that alcohol you were now hiding behind as he kissed you.

While you got to taste his still enduring desperation for any piece of you that was left for the taking.

It was going to be a very long night.

——————————

The paperwork was done and sent. Clothes were scattered across the floor, and Doflamingo was already back over the top of you in his massive bed.

A large glass of his best cava was in his hand as his hips pumped against you slowly while he drank. He was savoring the drawn out pressure of you around him, mixed into that chilled feeling of the sparkling wine now flooding down his throat.

He swallowed again, then moaning as his mouth came back off of the glass.

“You fucking lush…you’re such a bad influence.” He laughed a little after, running his thumb firmly over your parted mouth while his cock continued to move in and out between your legs at that languid pace.

He could nearly get off on just the sound of his own voice by now though. He was so stimulated. Everything felt good. Everything felt right.

Because he’d done it.

You were his in every legal way that mattered. 

And you were still somewhat conscious this time. The alcohol metabolizing enough by now to mostly take your voice. But you were watching him as he fucked you. His every action slow and deliberate as he fully enjoyed himself and this renewed lack of your resistance.

You even gave a few little moans and gasps as he rewarded you again by angling himself just right.

“Good girl…such a good girl for me. It feels amazing, doesn’t it?” He panted a bit anyway, his lust driving up his body temperature regardless of the careful pace. He reached briefly to set his now empty glass back onto the nightstand.

“I want this all the time…all the damn time. You know that right? I can’t stop…not when it’s you.” He just kept on, using that steady, long lasting rhythm.

He did try to keep his full weight off of your wounded thigh at least. Mindful of where he moved your leg as he took you. But this was still a celebration after all. He also wanted to feel you under him in all the right ways.

“Doffy…” You did grimace a little as the tip of him kissed against your cervix again.

He smiled at the plea of his name from your lips though. You were so pretty like this. And all of it was for him.

Maybe tomorrow your brain would be back to functioning well enough for him to explain your other wedding gifts as well.

Ever since the two of you had first sailed from Scylla together, he’d gotten busy with moving his chess pieces all over the board for you.

The nearest loyal mongrels Gladius could assign for him to your home island of Orlinde, had already razed that brothel you’d been born in to ash in a much needed cleansing of your pedigree.

While another official on Doflamingo’s payroll had just as recently planted forged documents of your revised parentage for Big News Morgans to find instead. 

Doflamingo had already teased you with the idea of gifting that Scyllian villa to you. The villa that became the first nest the two of you had ever slept side by side in, would of course now be important to him as well. It was not leaving your and his new family no matter what now.

But that was still not enough.

With the machinations he had going, your bloodline was going to be from Scylla.

Any children you could give him would then have both Dressrosa and Scylla to their credit.

Which, that was now another thing he needed to follow up on starting tomorrow. Caesar had had well enough time to deliver.

Doflamingo smiled again though as you shuddered quietly beneath him. 

“Still with me?” He hummed, seeing your eyes close then as he rubbed his hand down your side and you stilled again. “Or have you forgotten your own name, dear, while that poor liver of yours cries out from abuse?”

The moonlight highlighted his entertained expression as his lips pulled back from his teeth again. His hand had moved up to your throat as he gripped it in his continued pleasure.

He watched as your breasts rose and fell a little harder with those deeper breaths your body was then forced to take as he gradually restricted your airway.

It made his cock twitch so well inside of you.

“Forget your name anyway.” Doflamingo growled as he felt himself nearing that edge of climax when you finally coughed beneath his ever tightening hand. He was beginning to choke you, and it only made him want more of that feeling. “Because you’re a Donquixote now.”

Or at least the property of one as he felt your own hand then move to close on his larger wrist weakly.

Your body was too drunk to stop him, but that reflex of self preservation still flickered up in you all the same.

Doflamingo moaned loudly too as he saw your eyes reopen, half lidded to look at him in that new, pitiful way.

That helpless look is what did send him over the edge. As you tried and failed to breathe in his grip, he only bucked his hips that much harder as he spilled himself out into you yet again.

This is what it meant to truly own you.

——————————— 

“She hasn’t called?” Aokiji asked as he’d entered the other admiral’s office without warning.

But Kizaru looked unbothered as usual even at the surprise visit, just glancing up from a report that Sentomaru had sent in.

“Well…hello to you too. You’ve been off base quite a while.” He did comment though, watching Aokiji through those amber tinted glasses. “We were starting to think you may have gone rogue actually.”

It was said so calmly, but with just that hint of a smirk. “Sengoku wouldn’t have liked that.”

“I went patrolling on my own for a few days. That’s nothing new.” Aokiji frowned, and not taking a seat as he continued to stand. “But did Captain (Y/N) call today? Akainu’s got the Fleet Admiral in a meeting, and no one else seems to know.”

Kizaru shrugged. “I haven’t talked to her.” He looked back to his paperwork, but with noticeable disinterest in it now. “Why don’t you just call her yourself if it’s really become that distracting to you?”

But the resulting silence did make Kizaru finally look up again. That slight amusement was clearer on his face now. “Oh? Are you afraid to call her?”

Aokiji’s arms were crossed, his whole demeanor looking incredibly stern. “This isn’t about me. So get that stupid look off of your face.”

Wasn’t this his normal face? Kizaru thought to himself. Regardless, he didn’t seem insulted. “Hmm. Think you might say something unprofessional if you did call?” He mused to only add to this instead. “I guess that could be embarrassing for someone of our rank.”

And a cold palm did slam down onto the desk then. Aokiji could hold back much longer usually. But that cool composure was seemingly less and less lately. Especially when it came to the subject of you.

“Enough. I’ve told you so many times…” The ice admiral still warned.

Yet Kizaru barely reacted to that flare of temper, just glancing to the now frost covered hand and then back up into the frustrated eyes of its owner.

“Yeah? …You think you’ll just endanger her if you make any obvious fuss, don’t you? Doflamingo is quite an unstable man. But how many years have we known each other now? I’d say you’ve already made your move if I was to bet.” Kizaru nearly smirked again. “Where have you really been these past few days?”

“You’re no help at all. As usual.” Aokiji grumbled, just stepping back from the desk at the accusation.

He didn’t deny this either.

But Kizaru simply watched him, rather expressionless once more. “Did you ask for my help? I don’t recall that happening.”

Aokiji’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at him. “You’d be in Akainu’s ear in a heartbeat if I did.”

“And so what? We’re all comrades in arms…aren’t we?” Finally there was that minuscule trace of a frown on Kizaru’s lips. 

They were supposed to work together.

But that look of disappointment was just for a moment before he set his pen down and grabbed the receiver from off of the large transponder snail on his desk.

Aokiji’s eyes widened slightly at this movement, surprised and untrusting as Kizaru leaned back in his chair while the operator connected.

“Yes, admiral?” HQ’s switchboard girl answered kindly.

“Hello, Miss,” He said with a new, slight smile. “I need you to ring someone for me.”

“Of course, admiral. Who do you want me to connect you to?”

“Pull the warlord numbers if you please. I want Donquixote Doflamingo’s most direct line.”

There was just the briefest pause there too. Her voice changing a little. “The Fleet Admiral has put a restriction on that line, sir. No non-emergency calls. Is this considered an emergency?”

“Sure.” Kizaru was patient as anything, almost relaxing in his chair. “Let’s say it’s an emergency.”

“Yes, sir. Then I’m connecting you now.” Her nervousness gave way to dutiful obedience quickly enough as there was a click followed by momentary silence.

“The hell are you doing!?” Aokiji snapped at him in that brief delay before the line began to trill in new ringing. 

Kizaru looked back up at him, unfazed.

The phone continued to ring.

“It’d be pretty late in Dressrosa right now wouldn’t it?” Kizaru just thought out loud instead of giving a proper answer, glancing at the multiple clocks across his wall which denoted the different times across  the seas.

But Aokiji was not amused at all, starting to reach to hang up that transponder snail himself before a loud click had both admirals pause.

“This better be good.” Came the noticeably sleep hazed voice. A sharpness to it already though, with that transponder snail scowling up at them now.

“Oh…did I interrupt your beauty rest, pirate?” Kizaru responded, watching that snail as Aokiji went fully silent. “This is Kizaru.” He then identified himself simply.

There was a moment of hesitation and maybe even a bit of surprise on the other end of the line as the snail paused. But the warlord’s acceptance didn’t take long. Because there weren’t many men that would have been so casual as this with him. And those that would, didn’t sound like that.

“Heh. To what do I owe this pleasure then?” Doflamingo did recover quickly, dark voice sounding more interested now.

“I’m calling from HQ.” Kizaru drawled. “Seems our captain that you appointed to your island recently hasn’t reported in to us today. And you wouldn’t have had anything to do with that little lapse in her communication, now would you?”

The implied threat didn’t even have to be overt. It was well enough for any of the three navy admirals to take a personal interest in anything like this of course.

And this would now be the second admiral to do so in your name if the rumors of Aokiji’s previous visit to Doflamingo’s house in Sabaody were to be believed.

And Kizaru did believe it.

What he was surprised by was that it hadn’t been enough. 

A pirate that didn’t have the sense to back down for even an admiral.

It was a problem.

And the snail had quieted for another moment, its serious expression seeming to consider the weight of this new questioning from the admiral.

But Kizaru was exactly correct. Doflamingo understood the threat.

Doflamingo chose not to heed it.

Because the snail smiled then, wide and cruel as the warlord’s decision was made.

“Well…it is late. But if you insist, then why don’t you ask her yourself, admiral? It really has nothing to do with me.” Doflamingo replied with an all new goading.

And there was a sound of a bed creaking. 

The warlord’s voice became slightly quieter as he’d moved away from the receiver.

“Captain…hey.” It almost sounded gentle. But that snail was still grinning, Doflamingo’s dark voice still close enough for his real expression to be picked up. That smug pride radiating even as the intentional softness continued. “No…you need to wake up. You’ve got a colleague on the line…come here.”

The two admirals stared at that snail.

“…what?” A confused female voice finally protested.

“The phone, darling. It’s your work. Already not respecting your off duty hours at all it seems…”

The temperature now plummeted in Kizaru’s office at that vulnerable sound of you, as well as the full implications of what this truly meant.

But Kizaru cut in before Aokiji could. Even as both admirals’ breaths were then coming in trails of vapor within the room.

“Captain.” Kizaru said louder and firmer than he ever normally would to you.

And you heard it. Also recognizing his voice that you’d heard far more times than any warlord ever would.

There was more noise of the snail moving then. Like you were now picking it up from off of the bed. “…Admiral?” You asked in delayed surprise.

But there was more to it than that. You didn’t sound right, even in just these couple of words.

“Yes. Checking in, Captain. You didn’t give your status to anyone today.” Kizaru answered.

“I…” You tried. “There was…” Yes, they could fully tell now. You were trying so hard, but slurring every brief word none the less.

You were fully drunk. 

And you finally gave up, starting to actually plead in that humiliation of being ambushed in this way. “I…I’m fine. But I can’t…debrief right now. Sir…I’m…I’m sorry…”

The snail trembled, its eyes heartbreakingly defeated.

It was worse than any of them had ever thought then.

This was not the woman they knew.

Aokiji was about to snap. And Kizaru considered transmitting himself towards Sengoku’s office here and now.

But their shared enemy still most running this show wasn’t ceding his spotlight yet either.

“Admiral.” Doflamingo’s voice came back, shamelessly calm in contrast to your now evident emotions. “The Captain can speak with you later. I’m sure you’d agree that there’s nothing wrong with a little over indulgence when off the clock…we’ve all been there.” 

And he even made a noise as if he was comforting you beside him. Hushing you with a mimicry of affection before he spoke again. “…I’ll try to have her touch base with you tomorrow if we have time. Once she’s sobered up of course.”

Yet that snail also showed its teeth again before it was done. The harsher expression forming which didn’t match that measured tone at all.

“But tomorrow we’ll be very busy as well. Some news will be coming out, and her work for Dressrosa will be taking priority. The mission always comes first, correct? And she is one of your most dedicated.”

The snail’s tongue moved across those teeth. One final jab then added like a garnish on the heap of bullshit already being presented.

“This king is certainly glad to have her services at least.”

And Kizaru was forced to make a choice. 

He disappeared in a flash of yellow light, taking the snail with him as Aokiji had reached for it to speak.

No one could match Kizaru’s speed. And Aokiji had then turned, the purest rage within those dark eyes as Kizaru now stood all the way out in the hallway, holding that snail.

It was already back asleep as Kizaru had disconnected the call even before he’d moved.

“I’ll kill him.” Aokiji breathed, ice having already overtaken half of his face.

Kizaru was initially silent. His eyes had narrowed as well behind his glasses.

But then he spoke to his peer, blunt and sure. “They’d order me and Sakazuki to erase you for treason, brother. And that wouldn’t help anybody. Now would it?”

Aokiji gave him a look of disgust. Words seemed pointless by now. They both knew how wrong this was.

Yet Kizaru did begin walking back to him. A show of continued trust really. Because they were not enemies.

“Whatever you already did…” Kizaru started. “Is that going to help her?”

Aokiji’s shoulders sank ever so slightly, but his ice did not recede.

“Temporarily…but I came back here to do the rest of it. I am going to get her off of Dressrosa. No matter what that takes.”

——————————

Borsalino had actually hung up on him. The least passionate of all three admirals, and Doflamingo was certain he’d still gotten under that man’s skin.

Were you really that important to all of them then? Doflamingo’s own ego was happy to believe that you were.

Because it made you feel even more hard won if so. His marine treasure, stolen straight from the top and now further slipping through the hands of even the world’s greatest soldiers.

And how interesting that they didn’t seem to know about your public betrothal yet. Kizaru was a hard one to judge though. He hadn’t mentioned it at least.

Hopefully this really did mean that there were no marine spies left on Dressrosa to call and tattle to HQ. None outside of the toys working in his underground port anyway.

And he’d taken your own phone away immediately after the incident with Crocodile. You’d only been allowed to make calls right in front of him now.

Morgans’ reporters were likely playing things close to the vest too, to not share anything until those newspapers went to press. They wanted the first and only scoop for tomorrow’s worldwide release.

But there was nothing Sengoku could possibly do to reverse this either once he would find out. You were still a marine, just as Doflamingo had promised he’d let you remain. But you were also now his wife, with all of the added immunity that provided for you.

You couldn’t be fired, or even demoted. Not unless Doflamingo wanted you to be.

The five old men on the Red Line had reluctantly agreed to this in his stipulations. No doubt just humoring the traitorous brat that they still thought he was.

If they believed he was distracted, it made their lives easier. Less trouble he could cause for them.

Perhaps you’d actually thank him some day though. He was a generous master after all. Pulling his strings all the way from heaven to hell in this whirlwind of a love affair with you.

But tonight you were still too upset. Still too close to it all to realize how lucky you actually were to have his attention this deeply.

Your head was on his chest once more as he rubbed your back idly in the dark.

He could feel that dampness against his bare skin. Your silent tears as you surely thought your career was now dead and gone.

You were crying yourself back to sleep like the pitiful, broken thing you still were.

But he didn’t mind. 

Doflamingo kissed the top of your head as that new whim overcame him.

You were his responsibility now.

His prize and his companion to defend. 

Dawn would come again tomorrow, and with it the world’s reactions to what he’d done to you. But he welcomed that challenge and whatever new enemies it would bring him.

Because he’d bury them all like the good mate he was. He would protect you. This was his nest and his woman. 

He nuzzled his face back down against your hair. Hiding his scarred eye as the other eye watched the room for a bit longer before also drifting closed.

Your arms were tight around him. It felt right. But even in all his intense possessiveness that this inspired, there was something else so wholly new as well.

He felt safe.

He felt needed.

Until death do you part indeed. As that would be the only possible way for anyone to ever carve you from him now.

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[astermath]

sweet like you🍓

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: carmen stumbles across a local farmer’s market on accident and discovers a family run strawberry stand. he discovers that not only the strawberries are delicious and sweet, but so is the girl selling them to him.

word count: 2.1K

notes: yk what’s really funny,, i never realised so far a lot of my fics involve the color red. perhaps it’s becoming my new favorite color and I love to make it obvious dsgdfsj,, anyways first time writing for carmen, been obsessed w him since the bear came out. i’m a whore for jeremy allen white in case you haven’t noticed. anyways this will def get a part two!!

P.S. let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, requests are open!

Saturday was farmer’s market day.

Every Saturday morning, dozens of independent businesses, farmers and food stands would come together at Lincoln Park to sell their wares. It made for a colorful and interesting blend of smells, sounds and sights, and for most, a great way to start off their weekend.

And Carmen was no exception to this. He’d first stumbled upon it by accident on his way to the Beef. Taking a wrong turn because of his still waking morning head resulted in him walking through the park and, unavoidably, being distracted by what vendors there were. A chef at heart, he couldn’t help but look around the wide array of fresh ingredients available for purchase. He’d taken out his notebook and started writing down business names as he tried a sample every now and then. 

He held a bag of fresh paprikas in one hand, making his way down the line before he came across a peculiar and seemingly very busy stand. The fresh, sweet scent of strawberries allured him, stepping closer to take a look at what they had to offer. And it was exactly that, just strawberries. It appeared to be a family business, your mother and father packing orders, and you at the front taking them and accepting payments. For a second he just kind of stood there, bag in hand, staring at you. There was no way you were from here, Chicago doesn’t let a smile like that survive very long. Or maybe that was just his cynical mind doing its usual thing.

He snapped out of it when you glanced his way, looking to the side. He felt his cheeks getting warmer, embarrassed that just looking at a pretty girl got such a reaction from him. He’s a collected person, he should be acting like one. He took a deep breath and got in line. Lord knows what he’d be using strawberries for, he’d figure something out, might as well just eat them as a snack while the season allowed it.

“Hi! How many?” Your voice was sweet and chipper, something he couldn’t even think of being after taking orders all morning. Somehow, you kept it up.

“Oh, uh...” He looked at your display, before remembering that all you sold were strawberries, so browsing just made him look even more stupid. “How many... Strawberries?”

“Boxes. They’re 500 grams, 5 bucks each. So how many?” Your smile remained the same, though you were slightly amused by his confusion. 

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He could have sank into the ground right then and there. Of course you meant boxes, who in their right mind is buying individual strawberries? “Uh... Just one box is fine, please.” He reached for his wallet while you took over a box from your mom.

“Great! That’ll be 5 dollars please.” You took the slightly crumpled bill from his hand, storing it in the tin box in front of you and quickly writing down something on a paper. Seemed like you still did everything by hand, he couldn’t imagine what a mess it would be if he had to do that at the restaurant.

“Here you go, have a great day!” The box you gave him was neatly wrapped in brown paper, with a sticker serving as a business card on top. 

“Uh...” He stared at the sticker, reading over it before looking back up at you.

Ask for her name.

“Yeah...”

Her name.

“You too.” 

You idiot.

He picked up the box and walked away, walking a little faster than usual. He was never good at talking to people, but god, that was just embarrassing. He opened up the packaging, and took out a perfectly plump strawberry. He took a bite, humming as the juicy sweetness washed over his tastebuds.

Lunch rush had just ended, and Carmen was sat outside the back of the restaurant with Richie, smoking as per usual. Except now, a small cardboard box sat between them. It was almost empty as the two of them snacked on the fruit between puffs of their cigarettes. 

“Ya know, I read somewhere on Facebook that these are supposed to help with uh... Cancer or something.” Richie said, throwing the green leafy part back into the box. 

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, cousin.” Carmy smiled to himself, back leaned against the wall as he brought the cigarette to his lips.

“Oh, why’s that huh? Cause I can’t read shit online anymore without having to do an hour of research behind it?” Richie furrowed his brows, blowing smoke out his nose.

“No, stupid,” Carmen put the cigarette out on the concrete. “Cause you’re fuckin’ smoking, man. The fuck is a strawberry gonna do against that.”

“Yeah, well... I try to stay positive, you should fucking try it sometime, ya depressed asshole.” He grabbed another strawberry. “Where d’you get these from anyways? Shit’s pretty good.”

The image of you working at the stand flashed through his mind. “Passed by some random farmer’s market this morning. Might stop by there again, got a ton of fresh produce there for not much money.”

“Speakin’ of produce.” Richie used his thumb to point back over his shoulder to the kitchen. “Place’s out of onions. Your magical farmer’s market got those? Cause we need more by the dinner shift.”

Carmen groaned, wanting to curse at Richie for not letting him know earlier. But honestly, if it gave him a chance to go back, get more delicious strawberries and possibly redeem his awkward first impression to the pretty girl there... It might not be a bad idea. He checked the time on his watch, early afternoon, you’d probably be wrapping up right now. If he was fast, he could totally still make it. “Fine, but I’m taking your car.”

“Don’t crash it.” Richie said as he got up, ready to get back inside.

“You’re the one with a suspended license.” He joked, catching the keys Richie threw at him that were totally not aimed at his head.

“Fuck you cousin.”

Parking was a bitch, as always, but Carmen had managed to find a stall selling onions for about half of what he usually got them for. He was starting to like this market, not just for the prices, but because these were all people who worked hard and loved their products. A lot of work goes into putting something out there to sell, he would know. 

He realized he might be pushing his luck if he still wanted to see you, but he decided to take the chance nonetheless and walk down the lineup. It seemed to be his lucky day, as he caught sight of your parents loading up mostly empty boxes back in the car. You were working on breaking down the stand, doing so with relative ease. You were currently folding up the tables, kneeled down onto the ground. 

Again, he stared. Honestly, how could he not? It wasn’t every day he saw someone so beautiful, and with a sweet personality to match. Granted his only interaction with you had been brief, but still, he got a good vibe from you, and he was usually so distrustful.

You looked up, and by pure coincidence, your eyes met. His eyes were so intense, hues of blue that anyone would recognize, even from a mile away. You certainly recognized them from this morning at least. Your face brightened with the same smile he saw you had before, and for a second he wondered if it was just a customer service thing. 

“Hi! Hope you enjoyed your strawberries!” You got up, holding the folded table under your arm. 

“Sure did.” He put on a bit of an awkward smile. God, why was he doing this... What was he even supposed to say?

Your eyes squinted slightly when you read the words on his shirt. “Nice shirt... Oh, wait, you work at the Beef?”

His body tenses up a little when you mention the restaurant. Given its... Peculiar reputation, that question could be followed up by any kind of statement. “Yeah, yeah, I uh... I kinda run it now.” He decided not to mention Mikey. Seemed a bit overkill to mention your dead brother to someone whose name you don’t even know.

“Ohhh, that’s you! Yeah, I’ve seen you smoking outside before.” You extend your hand and you both introduce yourselves. “I work at a café just two blocks over. You might have seen it, it’s called Odette’s?” 

Carmy nodded. He knew that place. He also knew the cranky old French lady who owned it. “Ah... Yeah. Menu still the same?”

“As long as Odette is still alive, I doubt she’ll ever let me change anything. ‘Over my dead body, cherie’”. You jokingly imitated her French accent, chuckling to yourself.

Carmen smiled, glad that he’s at least not making a complete fool out of himself now. This was good, he knew this, work and food, those were his safe topics. “Yeah, well... Maybe if she tasted one of these strawberries first, you might convince her.” 

“Huh,” You thought to yourself for a second, imagining your usual grumpy boss overflowing with glee after trying the fruit from your family’s farm. “You know what, I’ve never actually thought of that. Maybe I’ll try it out!” You smile. “You know I’ve been meaning to try and serve some of my pastries there. I’m a huge baking fanatic, but she’s so... Set in her ways. I don’t know if my amateur baking skills could possibly convince her, no matter how tasty the strawberries I use are.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like...” Carmen thought about his crew, and how much they loved their so called ‘system’. Change was good, change meant progress, but it was also scary. On that part, he didn’t blame her boss for refusing to switch things up. “If you want, I could help you out. I’m a full time chef, so... Always willing to taste test.” He hoped his poorly masked excuse to stay in touch came across as friendly, and not pushy. He always felt like he was overthinking everything when he was trying to socialize, like he was reading off some type of script. Your chipper personality made things a tad easier, at least. 

“Really?” You seem to brighten up even more. Carmen is sure there’s light shining from your face from how excited you look, but he doesn’t mind. It’s amusing, almost... Cute.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. Just uh... Let me know when.” He puts his hands in his pockets.

“Of course!” You pause, realizing he’s probably expecting you to give him some kind of contact information. Unless he was planning to use telepathic communication. You put down the folded table. “Right, sorry, uh...” You laughed awkwardly and pulled out a pen and an old receipt from your back pocket to scribble your number on, before handing it to him. “There we go!” 

Carmen’s eyes went over the number, putting it in his wallet so he wouldn’t forget to save it later. “Cool, cool... So uh, text you later.” He silently cringed at his own words, trying painfully hard to play it cool. 

“Yeah, totally!” Your mom called your name, and you look over your shoulder, seeing her gesture to you to hurry up. “Be right there, mama!” You chuckled. “Sorry, duty calls! But yeah, I’ll hear from you. And if I don’t, I know where you work, Berzatto.” 

He chuckles slightly at your joking threat. “Sure, I’ll hold you to that.” He gives you a curt wave before walking off and letting you go back to work. 

He really hoped you didn’t mean that “threat”. He’d rather die than let you see him at the Beef right when they got such a bad hygiene rating. 

He was laid down on the couch late at night, watching an episode on the food network about an olive farm in Italy. He wondered if your family’s farm was anything like this one, and remembered he hadn’t even saved your number or texted you yet. Carmen rubbed his sleepy eyes and pulled out his phone, saving your number under a new contact and typing out a few quick texts. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, realized he was overthinking it and fell asleep not long after, the sound of an elderly Italian woman speaking on TV in the background.

[unknown]: hey, it’s carmen

[unknown]: guy from the beef

[unknown]: next thursday work for you?

You groaned in your bed, looking over at your phone and cursing yourself for forgetting to turn off your notifications. “The fuck...” Your eyes squinted at the brightness of the screen. A sleepy smile adorned your face when you read his name, saving his contact and texting something back quickly before putting the phone away and going back to sleep.

[y/n]: for sure!

[y/n]: let’s do 4:30 PM? café closes at 4 anyways so we’ll have the kitchen to ourselves :)))

[alternate-triforce]

I promised you all a map, so here is a map of Castle Town (for now)

Some descriptions of areas and an overview under the cut.

CASTLE TOWN

The largest city in all of Hyrule, and the only one not significantly damaged by the Mage War. It is separated into five color-coded "corners," each with their own function. Hyrule Castle is, of course, at the center. It has a rivalry with the second-largest city, Loomington, located in southwestern Hyrule.

Adventurer's Emporium: A one-stop shop for potions, shields, weapons, and anything one might need on a long trek through the Hyrulean wilds. Though most of its goods are of fine quality, they tend to be on the expensive side…maybe try one of those other stores first.

Mystic Violet Market: More of an event than an actual place of interest, but by most tourists it’s treated like one anyway. Merchants from all over Hyrule come here to buy and sell exotic wares, from enchanted stones to strange meats to rushroom oil and anything in between. Entertainers will squeeze in between stalls looking for a generous person to give them some rupees for their time. There are even some special games to play, like bombchu bowling and digging for treasure. After you get past all that glamour, wagons of fresh food from local farms, prepared food and snacks from bakeries and candy shops all across town are usually towards the back. Make sure to watch your purse, though: pickpockets love to sneak into crowds here.

Rogue Soldier Plaque: A large, decorated plaque commemorating the capture of Castle Town's first enemy after Rebirth, a renegade soldier that sacked buildings and burned them with his group of vagabonds.

Flowering Square: Some like to call this the prettiest part of Castle Town. Several years ago a well-respected member of town made it her mission to beautify the Red Corner with flowers cultivated from the nearby mountains, and this is the result of her efforts.

National Library: A large, ornate building with most of the records and knowledge to be had before Rebirth. It has large swaths of resources concerning magic, history, biology, architecture, engineering, and everything in between. Some of the greatest minds in Hyrule linger for long hours here studying, as well as printers transcribing some of the more popular tomes to be printed and sold. The library doesn't allow books to be taken out of its walls, and damaging or destroying an original copy is considered a great crime.

Old Prison: A dingy-looking collection of cells and a connected guardhouse with a small armory, one floor above-ground and the other below. Despite its humble appearance it's contained some of Hyrule's most dangerous criminals. Contrary to the name, this is actually a jail: ALT!Hyrule does not have prisons or a proper prison system.

Old Barracks: If soldiers from the nearby training camp don't have a place to stay, they can cheaply reside here, if they choose. After Rebirth, this was the place where the last remaining soldiers from the Mage War were found.

Magic College: A place of great learning for those interested in becoming mages! Students from all across Hyrule come here to study both magic and how to use it responsibly. The professors here are on the cutting edge of magic, always developing novel ways to apply it to everyday life.

Hyrule Castle: The epicenter of Castle Town, this mysterious building was attacked by Ganon twelve years ago, and it's where he was sealed away yet again by Zelda and the True Mages (or so they say.) Some of its many towers and nooks still remain hidden from the public eye.

Reformatory: To keep people off the streets and give them work to do, the True Mages have developed a system of rounding up the poor and sending them here until they have another place to stay. Despite the apparent good intentions of the project, it's rumored that the Reformatory doesn't treat its residents well.

[jellyfishoreo1206]

WE ARE NOT SEEING ENOUGH OF MIRAGE GUYS

So I'm taking matters into my own goddamn hands-

Meeting Mirage ;)

Either Noah or Mirage might be a little OOC, but I'm giving it a shot

Takes place after the movie, with fem pronouns

Enjoy!

-------

Dude, where the hell are you?

Y/N was currently sent a page to Noah, her best friend of 3 years. He was suppose to pick her up from work, as her car broke down and is still getting fixed at the mechanics, but it was well over 20 minutes and he still hasn't showed. He was suppose to be there at 7:30, and now it's almost dark.

I'kl be there in 10 minutes! Domething just csme uo

Several typos, whatever the hell is happening over there is really making him either rush or panic... actually those are both kind of in the same sense.

Letting out a sigh through her nose, Y/N quickly typed out a response.

Yeah, yeah. Better keep to your promise, Sonic.

Not even letting him respond, the H/C-nette shoved the device into her coat pocket. Sure it may be the beginning of the summer, but she get cold easily.

And I mean very easily.

"Man, I really need a hot shower right now."

10 minutes breezed by quickly, seemingly in a blink of an eye. About to page Noah again, Y/N stopped in her tracks when a honk sounded in front of her.

Looking up, her eyes widen in complete surprise at the image in front of them. Her best friend, Noah Diaz, in a fucking Porsche. Well, it looked like it seen better days, but still.

"Yo, you gonna get in or are you just gonna stand there looking so surprised?" Noah shouted from inside the car, a smug look on his face.

Snapping out of it, Y/N got inside the car, buckling in her seatbelt.

Once the seatbelt clicked, Noah started the car onto the route back to Y/N's apartment complex. 5 minutes in and the two are making small talk and all that before Y/N asked him a question.

"So, what happened?"

"Hm?"

"To the Porsche. Looks like Frankenstein's monster."

Noah let's out a small chuckle at the comment, "Oh uh, some guy sold it to me for a good price. Because it was all banged up and stuff. Couldn't even start."

"When did you get it?"

"Got it 2 months ago, still has some kinks that need to be fixed. But we've made some progress." He patted the dashboard in a comforting way, a somber smile on his face.

"2 months ago? Weren't you in Perú during that time? Also is Reeks helping you fix the car?"

"Yeah. I think I made a pretty good decision going there..also Reeks is just helping me get the parts, I'm mainly doing the fixing."

"Mm, pretty good job so far. I could help with the paint job? The blue and silver seems to be fading out, but I think it a fresh coat will make it look gorgeous."

After she finished that comment, the car felt like it heated up a little. Not too much to notice, but just enough.

"By the way, what did you do in Perú again?"

"Oh, to study for a job I was doing..got to see some of the landscapes and all that..and nearly died-"

"What was that?"

"Wha-nothing! Don't worry about it at all."

A silence fell between you too, an awkward silence to be exact. He's a little more fidgety than usual.. probably from exhaustion. It's something he does whenever he's very tired. Man, he must be more exhausted than usual.

"Sorry I called you so late, like right after your new job and stuff. It must be tiring."

"Nah I don't mind, you're my best friend after all. Just returning the favor when you babysat Kris last minute." Now Y/N absolutely loves Noah's family. First time she met them, it felt like a bond just, instantly clicked within. So from that day on, she makes a little time out of her day just to visit the Diaz family, especially Kris. He was so sweet, and like the little brother she never had. So whenever Noah or his mom were busy, she babysits him, and brings some food so they can enjoy together.

"I don't mind babysitting Kris at all. He's like a little brother to me anyway."

"Yeah, that's Kris. Best little brother I could ever ask for." A soft smile comes to his face, maybe he should bring some food from that burger joint his family likes, before he goes home so his mom doesn't have to cook tonight.

"Yeah..Hey do you mind if I put in my playlist?"

"Go for it."

Grabbing a mixtape from her pocket, she inserts it into the slot right above the radio, turning the knob to hear what was currently playing.

The familiar rhythm of Virgen by Adolescent's Orquesta brings a smile to your face, increasing the volume as one of her favorite songs plays through the car. Every so often, she would sing along to the lyrics, taping her fingers against the door.

What Y/N didn't know, was a certain Autobot mech was observing her in the passenger seat mirror, noticing the small things about her that seemed to have caught even more of his interest. The moment she got in the car, Mirage had to admit, she was PRETTY. And the compliments she said? Wooo that was feeding his ego.

And she was drop-dead gorgeous, in his optics, he doesn't even know her one bit and he's on his knees just from the sound of her voice. Oh her voice, don't even get him started on her voice. Most purest thing he has ever heard since he had stepped foot on Earth. Got her filling his tanks with a fluttery feeling, or as Noah sometimes likes to refer to, butterflies. What a weird thing to say. (Ngl, I head cannon Mirage to fall in love FAST)

After those few thoughts, the mech started observing her other features. Her eyes, hair, lips, cheeks, hands, even the smallest of moles/freckles that were dotted across her face. Oh and when her smile plastered her face, Mirage felt his spark beat faster.

She was a beauty, a beauty in her own category..

Sadly he wasn't able to admire her much longer, as they stopped in front of her apartment, the sky now completely dark. About to open the car door, the lock clicks, preventing Y/N from getting out. Thinking nothing of it, Y/N goes to unlock it, but it keeps repeatedly locking itself. With a huff, Y/N turns to Noah.

"Dude can you stop that shit?"

"It's not me I swear! Li-like I said, Mir-! The car was all banged up when I got it, still got a few bugs in it.." And as subtly as possible, kept kicking right above the pedals. Not to harshly, but to get the message across to stop messing around.

Finally after what seemed to be forever, the car doors unlocked, with Y/N getting out of the car, making sure to grab her tape. Running a hand over the hood, not noticing the shudder of metal, Y/N waves goodbye to Noah before entering her building, already getting excited for her hot shower.

When Y/N was out of sight and earshot, Noah turned to the radio, somewhat pissed.

"Mirage, what the hell was that??"

"Whaaaat? I did nothing wrong. Also, ouch. Do you have to kick me that hard? I'm still recovering y'know." You could hear the teasing smile on his face, pulling the recovery card whenever.

"Mirage you can't do that."

"Why not? Not like she noticed anything."

"You just can't!"

"Aww but I wanna keep admiring la angel bonita un momento más."

"..what."

"I wanna keep ad-"

"I know what you said, but, seriously?"

"You gotta introduce me to her one day, Sonic."

"Mirage she's going to freak out!"

"Mm but what are the chances she won't? Pleaseeee? I won't stop bothering you unless you say yesss~" He coos in a sing-song voice.

"Nu uh, ain't happening. Just because you're acting like a kid doesn't mean you're getting it."

"Fine. But whenever you give her ride home, I'll just keep locking the doors."

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Noah leaned back into the recliner, pinching the bridge of his nose out of frustration. Whenever Mirage says he'll do something, he will follow through. He's ambitious like that. So either; Stay with the no but have Mirage be a brat for who knows how long, or, just get it over with.

"Sooo..Is that a yes?"

He was quiet for a bit, before letting out a sigh,"Fine, fine! Yes, it's a yes."

"Hell yeah, baby! Oh I already have so many places to meet up for dates-"

"DUDE."

------

So that concludes my first post! I like how this (somewhat) turned out, but it's a first. I've made some edits to this and the second part will be out soon, so I'm sorry for keeping you guys waiting!

Part 2 here!

[felinisnoctis]

INTERLUDE: LORREN’S STORY

Something a little bit different - the story before Bonded Pairs, of how the space wolf came to the farm.

CW: Death, Cancer

They said it was bad luck on his part to bond with an elderly human like that.  Celeste already had grey hair and wrinkled skin when they met.  She’d been widowed a decade ago and she lived alone in a big house in the country, all her children grown up and gone.  They’d used to work the farm themselves, she told him, and she’d sold extra sewing on the side to help make ends meet, along with the goods from the farm.  They didn’t raise animals like her parents had, but they traded for ham and sausage and hunted deer and wild birds.

He’d taken it on himself to see that the freezer stayed well stocked with wild game.  He wrestled down a canid that came too close until it accepted him.  Celeste said she was a “wolf-dog” and sighed when he brought her home.  He chopped wood to keep the house warm and plucked figs from the trees for her to make into preserves.  She couldn’t sew anymore, her hands hurt too much, but she still loved to cook.

Then there came a time when the wood he chopped wasn’t enough to warm her.  He held her close to his chest, even as he walked the kilometers into town for her to see the apothecary.  She didn’t want to, she said.  She didn’t want to be a bother.  He took her in anyway.

They ran a bunch of tests and said cancer.  They said that they could try chemotherapy, see if they could shrink it enough to take it out, but it would be risky and she might die from the treatment.  She refused.  She was an old woman, she said.  Let her die at home.

He heard the whispering about him too, even though he pretended not to.

What happens when she’s not around?

He’s big.  Not primaris, but almost the same size.

Could go out of control…might cause a lot of damage.

Boy that size, not easy to take down.

He’d had to restrain feral marines before.  The area was isolated.  They had strong enough cages, in an emergency, if an astartes was a threat to himself or others or needed care and couldn’t understand what was going on.  He ignored the whispers. They didn't understand.

A few days later, her oldest grandchild moved in.  A youngster who would have been a techpriest in his era, and shared both their frequent lackadaisical attitude towards gender and their near-universal annoyance at what the mechanicus called “the laity” and Robin called “end users.”

Celeste slept more and more.  They’d given her something to ease the pain.  He stayed by her side as much as possible.  He could at least keep her warm and comfortable.  The blankets never seemed to help anymore, but holding her close did.

A few weeks later, he felt her breathing slow as she slept and heard her heart finally stop beating.  He knew it was coming.  He still howled and snarled as the loss tore at his soul, his own hearts beating rapidly as though they could give her her life back.

The funeral was a few weeks later.  He ran wild in the woods until then, ripping through the trees away from people and tearing the corpses of coyotes apart for food.  But he made sure he was dressed and groomed properly before he showed up at the little country church, his unarmored bulk barely fitting through the door.  He howled a prayer no one understood to the sky as she was lowered into the grave and covered over, even though the others shifted away from him as he did.

Then he went home.  She was gone, but he could still stay with her grandchild and keep the farm going.  She would have liked that, he thought, as he finished butchering the fresh turkey he'd brought Robin for dinner. Robin was rolling out fresh pastry noodles in the kitchen and would appreciate the meat.

[overstuffd]

mmmm thinkling about being a hacker who sees a perfect target while tapping through unsecured webcams one day.

cute, curvy, a small belly peeking out from under her shirt. she doesn't know anyone's watching as she idly snacks on the open bag of chips on her desk. I decide to see how little prodding it takes for her to give in to indulging her every whim.

i start off by subtly influencing her social media feeds. delicious food and porn, side by side and one right after the other. she might notice something seems different, but the porn is welcome considering the selection of toys i had amazon 'misdeliver' to her house have been getting a lot of use.

once she's started associating her newly increased orgasm rate with food, it's time to start upping the portions. she gets her groceries delivered, so it's easy to make a few substitutions and editions. Extra-thick, honey sweetened yoghurt instead of her normal low fat brand. Her favourite diet soda was 'sold out' but luckily she's well stocked in the full sugar version.

she's sure she didn't add these bags of chips to the order, or this box of donuts, but the delivery guy shrugs and says they're free so it would be silly to throw them out.

i make sure the first thing she sees when she turns on her phone in the morning is something to turn her on and something to get her stomach rumbling. hot pancakes, oozing syrup. a plate stacked with greasy bacon and eggs with a mountain of fried potatoes. some upscale bakery showing off their latest cream stuffed pastries.

at this point i'll be tracking every like, every video she lingers on just a bit too long to know exactly what she'll be unable to resist. and it's such a coincidence that a coupon for that exact bakery appeared in her inbox just as she was looking at them. it's such a good deal, and it expires today, so it would be a shame not try all of the ones she's had her eye on.

doubling her order as it comes through is a simple, explainable glitch. still, most of these pastries won't be good tomorrow, so she might as well try all of them, it's not like she has to finish them all.

later that night, as she goes back to the fridge for the fourth time, she scoops the last blob of frosting up with a scrap of pastry and sighs. she's definitely getting a little softer around the middle, but she can't worry about that now - she's just found out she's lost her job by email. she's so lucky though, because later that day she gets offered a spot on a medical weed trial she can't even remember applying for. a few well placed changes on my part and she's getting paid to smoke up every day at home, fresh flower and vape carts carefully delivered every week.

the 'study' pays well, so why shouldn't she get most of her food delivered? she's too stoned to move most of the day anyway, and she has such good luck with ordering in lately, every restaurant seems to be throwing in free extra desserts and appetisers every time she orders.

that night, her large meat feast pizza (already more than she used to order) comes with garlic bread, wings, curly fries, soda and icecream and fist sized tubs of creamy sauces. you try and ask the delivery boy a question but he mumbles something about a promotion, and what, is she going to say no to free food?

as she sits down, she barely notices as i set the youtube on her tv to start a playlist of cute girls trying different fast food places, giggling as they took huge bites of rich, calorific foods.

the strain i picked out for her has already got her hungry and horny, so she flops down on the couch in her sweatpants and t-shirt. this shirt used to be loose on her, but it's definitely stretching tighter across her tits and slightly bulging stomach. she barely notices though, grabbing a slice of pizza and chugging soda straight from the bottle as her already hazy mind gets softer. she doesn't realise she's finishing what should be a meal for a family of four until most of it's gone.

her stomach feels uncomfortably tight, straining against the waistband of her now-tight sweatpants. she pulls the band down and her stomach springs out, angry red marks showing where it had bitten into her soft flesh.

my conditioning has been working, and she doesn't know why, but the feeling of her being so stuffed makes her pussy ache, and she slides a hand into her pants to find herself dripping wet. she starts playing with herself as she finishes the lst slice of pizza, forces a few more fries into her heavy gut. the more she eats, the better her fingers feel on her clit, her flabby brain well trained at this point to associate food with sex, being stuffed full with cumming what was left of her brains out.

she's on the edge now, but she's finished the food and even though her stomach is straining and sensitive she can't make herself finish without something to eat at the same time.

she's lucky she forgot to put the icecream in the freezer. she pulls the melted tub towards herself, too pinned under the weight of her bloated stomach to even lean over for it. the thick mix of cream, sugar, chocolate and caramel pour down her throat as she slowly begins to chug the mixture. her free hand is back between her legs, frantically fucking her needy pussy as her belly stretches beyond what she thought she handle. as the last of the icecream drips down her throat she cums, harder than she thinks she's ever come before.

she slumps back, too happy to care that she's surrounded by greasy pizza boxes and that there's melted icream smeared across her tits.

watching through her webcam, i'm already planning all the fun deliveries she's going to be getting in the next fes days.

[amberlynnmurdock]

The Good In You (Chapter 5)

Pairing: Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x Reader

Chapter Summary: Dex and her share a few moments together leading up to the Gala on Friday -- which Dex is still undecided about.

Genre: FLUFF

Words: 3.1k

Ao3 Link

Since Beckett was exiled from the office, tensions had gone down, and Dex felt more comfortable walking around the office. Not that he would ever feel 100% comfortable, but he definitely felt much better than he did before. He didn’t have to worry about someone trying to get him, provoke him and have leverage against him. 

It was easier to say hello to her in her office—no suspicious minds and wandering eyes kept their focus on them for too long. Dex didn’t care what they thought anyway. Whatever conversations he had with her—whatever people thought they saw—it was only between the two of them. Dex was walking over her to office now with two cups of coffee in his hands: one for him and one for her.

“G’morning, doc,” Dex leaned in the doorway. They had reached a point where he didn’t need to knock on the door to make his presence known. “Got your fresh cup for you.”

“I’m not a doctor, Dex,” she giggled, and Dex liked how the sound made him feel inside. Not a rush of anxiety. Just a rush. “Thank you.”

“Well, you’re the only medical professional in the building so I’d say it’s safe to call you that,” Dex smiled, tapping his paper cup of coffee to hers as a small cheer. “There’s no one else I’d go to, at least.”

“You’re funny,” she smiled and blushed as she blew on her cup before taking a sip. Dex hated the way how fast his thoughts turned dark. If anyone else had got her a cup of coffee, how could he be so sure they didn’t do anything to tamper with it? She willingly took the cup from his hands each time, but that’s because she trusted him. Dex would never put her at risk like that—he can’t say the same for everyone else. “You always make it perfect.”

“I spend more time perfecting your cup than my own,” Dex said naturally. Over the past few weeks, things had been slightly flirtatious between them, surprisingly more on Dex’s part. He saw that she enjoyed when he said things like he did just now, so he decided to keep saying them. 

And each time she noticed him going all sweet, she decided to ask him the most dreaded question. 

“Change your mind about the gala yet?” She asked quietly, almost too quickly before she put her coffee cup to her lips. Dex shifted uncomfortably and leaned on the opposite side of the doorframe.

“No,” Dex shook his head. “I haven’t.” If the gala only consisted of the two of them, and not nearly the entire department, Dex would consider going. It was a chore enough for him to avoid as many people as he worked with—to willingly go to an event where he was forced to talk to people and not only that, wear an uncomfortable suit? Dex wasn’t sold. He wouldn’t put himself through that. Not even if it meant he got to sit next to her the entire evening. 

She was lovely. He wasn’t. People would be going up to her all night, and that would only spur Dex’s anxiety more. 

“I wish you would,” she gently urged. Dex sighed. He knows that. It was written all over her face each time she brought it up. Hope. And then disappointment when he would give her the same answer. “I guess you have until Friday to change your mind. Or I have until Friday to convince you.”

“I was interrogated for two weeks straight in Quantico,” Dex said in a low voice, meeting her eyes and holding her gaze, “it’s not easy to crack me under pressure.”

“I didn’t say I’d pressure you,” she defended teasingly, “I said I’d convince you.”

“Those words are synonymous in interrogations,” Dex replied with a smirk.

“If I were to pressure you or convince you, whatever word you prefer,” she began, “I’d say the biggest reason you should come is because there’s going to be great food, free, might I add.” Dex nodded with a ghost of a smile on his lips, fascinated by her attempts at convincing him, looking at her like what else? “A great opportunity to take advantage of an event the bureau is paying for…” Dex waited for her third reason. “And, well… I want you to be there.” 

He knew this was the biggest reason why she kept asking him about the gala. Still, he didn’t know what to say. He enjoyed their early morning, private conversations. He enjoyed being the reason she smiled and blushed. He enjoyed how much she seemed to enjoy his company. But being her date to the gala was something he couldn’t fathom, not even for her. It wasn’t her that was the issue—it was him. And the expectations he’d never live up to. 

“I told you I’d think about it,” Dex finally said, after some time of holding her gaze. 

“I guess you technically have four more days to think about it,” she lightly shrugged. “Can I ask what’s stopping you?”

“I don’t know,” Dex broke eye contact with her. “I don’t want to burden you with all that.”

“You’d never burden me with anything,” she said with conviction. “I know we’re just… coworkers, but you can always talk to me about anything. I’m a good listener.”

Dex’s gaze moved to the ground, where their shoes were almost touching—that’s how close they were standing. She made no movement to step back, and neither did he. 

“I appreciate that,” Dex said quietly. 

“Agent Poindexter!” 

Both of them were startled by Hattley’s voice coming down the hall. She stepped back instantly, while Dex stepped forward instinctively in a protective way. When he saw it was Hattley, Dex stepped back. 

“Training starts in five. You’re presenting first. Good morning, Nurse __,” Tammy smiled at her. She raised her cup of coffee as a greeting and looked at Dex once Tammy walked away. He sighed and looked down sheepishly. 

��Duty calls,” Dex said. 

“Have fun, agent.” 

◎◎◎

Her shift the next day started at 1 PM, and she wouldn’t get home until midnight. When Hattley had pulled her aside yesterday to let her know, she was less than thrilled but agreed anyway. She wasn’t thrilled that she would be getting home so late, and that the FBI shuttle wouldn’t be available.  

Dex walked over to her office that morning and was disappointed to see her office dark, with the door closed, with no sign of her. 

“She’s coming in at 1 today,” Hattley said as she walked by Dex. Dex followed her and walked up to Hattley to catch up with her. 

“Why?”

“We’ll need her later in case any new agents get hurt on their first field assignment. She said she’s okay with it.”

“But the shuttle won’t be here to take her home,” Dex argued. 

“You’re welcome to stay later and get in on the field with the new agents, Poindexter,” Hattley stepped into the elevator. “Your choice.” The elevator doors closed, leaving Dex stranded in the middle of the hall. Dex ran his hand over his face—his day wouldn’t feel complete if he didn’t get to see her. She had become a part of his routine. 

Dex decided to stay. 

When she arrived at 1, she was disappointed to see that most of the agents had left for their missions already—including Dex. She wondered if he would be on one of the late-night missions, but she highly doubted it. Disappointment settled in her—she probably wasn’t going to see Dex today. 

She sat at her desk, flipped through the new agents’ files, and kept herself occupied until it was time to head home. In her bag, she had a can of mace and a claw keychain for her walk home, since it’ll be so late by the time she gets out. She’s done overnights before—that wasn't the issue. It was her concern for getting home safely that was. 

Hours passed, and it was soon nearing 11 PM. Some agents were at their desks but most had gone home for the night. Truthfully, she was fighting sleep and decided to brew a fresh pot of coffee to stay away. Just as the machine was humming, the elevators opened and revealed a small group of agents coming back from their mission. 

She peered out of the kitchen and watched as they trickled out. Her heartbeat increased when she saw Dex standing in the back, wearing his tactical gear. He looked even more handsome in uniform—it had been a while since she’d seen him in it. Dex caught her eye momentarily, a look of relief on his face. 

“Doc,” Agent Poindexter called for her as the agents stood behind him. Clearly, Dex was the one in charge tonight. “Think you can check up on these guys before they go home after their first mission on the job?”

“That’s what I’m here for, Agent,” she smiled at him. “I’ll save you for last.”

One by one, she checked up on the new agents. Most of them were okay, some of them were a little shaken up by their first mission, but they understood what the job entailed. After all, they were here for a reason. She did the best she could in getting to know them and easing their anxieties. 

“I hear you get used to it, after a while,” she said to her second to last patient. He was a young man, probably 22 years old, named Daniel. 

“I hear that as well, but hopefully sooner than later,” Daniel smiled sheepishly. He had bright blonde hair and blue eyes. ”Thank you, Nurse __.”

“My pleasure,” she smiled as she walked him out the door. She saw the group of young agents at the front of the office, signing out with another more senior agent. She watched them with a smile on her face—they were all truly pleasant and sweet. 

“Got time for one more?” Dex’s voice pulled her from her gaze on them. She uncrossed her arms and looked at Dex, who seemed much taller when he was in his uniform. Camo-green vest, with matching pants and tan combat boots. Dex’s dirty blonde hair was a little disheveled, but he didn’t look any less attractive. He had a rugged smile on, but a soft gaze in his eyes.

“I always have time for you,” she said quietly. “Come on in.”

Dex followed her into her room, closing the door behind him. She suddenly felt more awake, and more settled, now that Dex was here in her room. She kept her back toward him as he took off his tactical vest and jacket, revealing a black tee shirt underneath. She retied her hair and washed her hands. When she heard him sit up on the exam table, she turned around to meet him. He was sitting up straight patiently. 

“I didn’t know you were working so late,” she said. 

“It kind of just fell in my lap today,” Dex explained.

“How did it go with the new agents?”

“Not bad, for what it's worth.”

“How do you feel now?” She asked. 

“Good,” Dex replied, “I’m here now.”

“Good.” Suddenly, it was the look Dex was giving her—complete and utter focus on her. Nothing else in the room existed except for her, it felt like. Not even the rolling tray of medical supplies that was next to her. She felt self-conscious by the way he was looking at her. She was suddenly very aware of herself and how she looked. “I’ll check your head first.”

She pushed some of his hair that had fallen on his forehead back and ran her fingers gently through his locks, feeling for anything unusual. She felt nothing. He closed his eyes for this part and took a deep breath. She felt the base of his skull and slowly pulled back. 

“Didn’t bang your head. That’s good,” she said to make some conversation. 

Dex nodded his head and opened his eyes. She brought out her mini light to look at his pupils. Dex blinked twice to get rid of the after flash. 

“Sorry,” she murmured.

“It’s okay,” Dex said. 

“You don’t look like you have any scratches. I don’t think the questionnaire is necessary this time.” The rest of the exam went quickly—as usual, Dex didn’t have any serious injuries if any at all. She did, however, notice that he winced as he stretched from the table. 

“I should probably check on that bruise on your ribs,” she said suddenly. Dex paused his movements and sat back down on the table. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Dex said. 

She lifted his shirt and averted her eyes away from his defined abs. His bruise was nearly faded completely, thankfully. 

“Looks good,” she said. “The bruise, I mean,” she added quickly. 

“How was your day?” Dex asked, standing up from the exam table and leaning back on it. “When I didn’t see you this morning, I was concerned if you’d get your coffee.”

She laughed at this and then suddenly realization settled. “You were here this morning too? Gosh, how long was your shift today?”

“I was in this morning,” Dex said. “Real early too. I—“ Dex struggled to explain himself, because how else could he dance around the truth? He only stayed and went on the mission just so he could stay late for her, and make sure she got home safe. “Hattley asked if I could join the new agents on their first mission.”

“That was nice of you,” she replied. “I’m sure she really appreciated it.” 

“It’s nothing,” Dex shook his head. 

“I’m glad you’re here this late,” she told him. “I was spooked by the idea of being here so late with no familiar faces.”

“Does the shuttle run this late?” Dex asked, already knowing the answer. 

“No,” she sighed, “but I brought mace and my claw keychain, so I should be good going home.”

“Oh,” Dex shook his head, “I mean,” he shrugged his shoulders, “let me walk you home?”

“Really?” She asked him. “But Dex, you’re so tired. You worked all day, longer than me. I wouldn’t want to delay you getting—“

“I want to,” Dex interrupted her gently. “Making sure you’re home safe is worth an extra hour of my day.”

Relief washed over her knowing she wouldn’t have to worry about walking home so late alone. She couldn’t help but smile at him, this sweet FBI agent offering to walk her home. He looked tired, but it made him look all the more sweet. He looked hopeful that she’d say yes.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I don’t have much to clean up. Maybe five more minutes.”

By the time she cleaned up her office, everyone was out of the building, leaving only Dex and her. Dex was waiting patiently on the chair outside her office. When she was done, she opened the door and Dex stood up from his seat. 

“Ready?” She asked. 

◎◎◎

Luckily, her apartment building wasn’t too far from the office. Dex made sure to stand closest to the road as they walked. For the first few minutes of walking, nothing was said. The sounds of their footsteps on the pavement and the few cars that drove by filled the air. Her gaze was focused on the ground, watching their steps in sync. 

Suddenly, she’s being pulled in close to Dex—he’s wrapped his arm around her frame and holding her tightly as they walk. She looks up at him in confusion but when she looks forward and sees a group of three men standing at the corner of an alleyway, she sinks deeper into his embrace and places her hand on his arm to hold herself steady. Dex’s sharp gaze is on the men, his jaw is clenched. When they’ve walked at least another block away, Dex lets go of her, to her disappointment.

“Good thing you walked me home,” she said softly. 

“You’re safe with me,” Dex replied. She’ll remember that sentence for a while. 

“Has being an agent kind of made you change the way you view the world?” She asked him.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, is everything a threat to you now? Maybe those guys were just hanging. Maybe they had bad intentions. I’m naturally inclined to think ‘well, better safe than sorry.’ Is it different for you?”

It was a more complex question than Dex would like to admit. All his life, things were threatening to him, even if they weren’t. “I think it has changed how I view the world, yeah. I naturally look everywhere for a threat before I can ensure we’re safe.” 

“I guess they train you to think that way,” she sighed. “From what I’ve seen, I think a lot of agents are jaded now. Which is understandable,” she explained, maybe more to herself. “But I wouldn’t want this job to change you, Dex.”

“How?” He questioned, picking up on her slowed pace, indicating her apartment was approaching.

“Just… remember there’s good in the world. There’s good in you. Good in me,” she said. 

“I think all of you is good,” Dex said. “You’re a patient and kind person. I can’t think of one bad quality you have.”

She laughed at this. “I can get cranky.” 

It was his turn to laugh. “I’m sure even cranky you’re just as lovely to be around.” 

She smiled at him and when she looked forward, she was disappointed to see they’d reached her apartment. Still, sleep was just around the corner and she couldn’t wait to get in bed.

“Dex, thank you so much again for walking me home,” she stopped at the door to face him. He had a tired look on his face but he still offered a half smile as he looked down sheepishly. “I appreciate you.”

“No need to thank me,” Dex shook his head. “Goodnight, __.”

“Goodnight. Hey, wait—“ she cut him off before he could walk away. “Let me see your phone.”

Dex pulled out his phone and she took it from him, typing away at something. He looked at her in amusement. 

“You’ll text me when you get home so I know you made it back safe, too.” 

“I will,” Dex said, taking his phone back and seeing she put her phone number in. That wasn’t his intention at all, but he’s glad she did it. 

With one final goodnight, she went inside her apartment and Dex waited until she was in the lobby until he started to walk back to his apartment. He couldn’t put a finger on what exactly it was he felt—he only brought himself to walk her home, but he felt like he left something with her. And he’d only feel better the next time he saw her. 

[thateldribitch]

So I feel like not enough people know about Hedgehogs in the TWST community, sooo let me tell you ALL about them as someone who has worked in an exotic pet store.

So the full context is that the pet store bred and sold hedgehogs. We sold the babies, kept the adults, and it was pretty chill. We didn’t do anything like separate them until the babies were big enough, which I think took a month or two? Can’t quite recall. Either way, I’ve dealt with hedgehogs and cared for them extensively. And I don’t hate them, but wouldn’t want one as a pet. They’re high maintenance little dudes, but most of my tone here is from working retail here haha. So sorry if it sounds sliiiightly negative; not my intention.

I loved the job but I had favorite animals to work with— rats were the best, fuck mice, screw you random banana ball python(the only animal that ever bit me there haha.)

Let me start with the positives:

1. Adorable

2. Cute

3. Very soft bellies

4. They like their quills being stroked back

With that out of the way, here are some interesting things about them:

- Hedgehogs are technically venomous. Their quills have a light coating of it, but at most it usually just irritates skin. Always wash your hands after handling a hedgehog.

- Whenever hedgehogs run, they poop. So every. Night. We would have to clean their caked wheels. Usually this would be done in the morning so customers didn’t think we were neglecting them, but *no one* would want to. Either way, if the wheel got bad, you had to wash it. It is not pleasant. When I say caked, I mean crusted, would have to soak, scrub, and oh my god did it never want to come off—

Anyway cannot blame Heartslabyul boys for not wanting to do so. Again, they’re high maintenance little dudes!

- Hedgehogs are omnivores. What we fed them at the pet store was: wet cat food, veggies, and hedgehog pellets. I think there was some sort of calcium we added as well. Are there fancier diets? Oh yes. And I think Riddle would only feed them fresh veggies, probably the best ones.

- They are mean if not socialized properly. Now; it was a pet store and the breeder hedgehogs were meant to not be interacted with much. Because, Yknow, if you bug them with babies we were always warned they’d *eat* them. This never happened when I was there, but I think it was more of an extreme ‘what if’ to encourage staff not to mess with the babies.

- They make the weirdest sounds when angry. You can also hear their quills when they puff them out. It’s a weird “whewhe click”. Poor babs got scared and balled up and did that.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my hedgetalk. Hope this helps with fanfics?

[nobedofroses]

October 8th

pairing: Pero Tovar x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, allusions to smut, brief sadness

words: 800

a/n: Prompt for today is Farmer's Market from this list by @raven-cincaide-words. Some autumn market adventures

Directory, Day 7

🎃🎃🎃

Most of what you and Pero needed for everyday life was easily attainable through your neighbors and people in the village that made soap, milled flour, raised chickens, etc. But about once a season, the two of you would need to travel to a larger town to purchase things that were harder to get like saddles and some medicines. About half the time it worked out that Pero was ready to sell one of the horses he had raised and it left you able to purchase extra things for the others in the village that couldn’t travel to reimburse you for on your return. 

Between you and Pero running the stables attached to the only inn for tens of miles that was owned by Pero’s brother, William, and his wife and your childhood best friend, Charlotte, you enjoyed a happy existence and were able to bring some prosperity to the village that had struggled in the past. Everyone chalked it up to the luck of the brothers and they gave the credit to you and Charlotte for making them desperate to stay in the village in the first place. 

This fall, you and Pero were leaving the stables with the stable hands to manage while you traveled to the nearest town to sell Pero’s latest star, Quicksilver. He was as fast as his name suggested, mischievous, and very cuddly. You were sad to see him go but Pero knew the man that was buying him from his travels and knew he would be treated well. 

The ride would take almost a full day, so the two of you would need to stay two nights in the town. Pero liked to make a whole trip of it, staying in a nicer inn that offered a tub in your room for your whole stay and hot baths at any hour. For the sake of the maids in the inn, you restricted his whims somewhat since you knew how hard they worked. Plus, at one in the morning, you wanted to be sleeping, not hearing him splashing around or begging you to join him. 

Anyway, the ride there was fun as Quicksilver wanted to run and your two own horses, Petal and Fred, were up to the challenge. You and Pero enjoyed a few short races but had to reign them in a few times since it was a long journey. At the midday stop to let the horses rest and all of you eat, you had to reign Pero in once because his kisses were becoming too ardent for a public road. 

You arrived at the inn at dusk and stabled the horses with one of Pero’s good friends, joining him and his wife for dinner in a private room at the inn. A hot bath was ready for you when you retired to the room and Pero made sure you both got good use of it before it got cold. 

In the morning, you took Quicksilver out for a little exercise and so you, but especially Pero, could say a long goodbye. Pero loved every horse he raised and missed them when they left, but got satisfaction in the knowledge that they would be of great help to their owners. (And he had peace of mind that they would be treated well since he only sold to those he was able to vet thoroughly.) 

After a slightly tearful goodbye and then meeting Quicksilver’s new owner for the exchange and a bit of time for Quicksilver to get to see that Pero and you trusted the man, the two of you headed back into town to go to the market. 

You always loved the market in the fall, with everything fresh from the harvest or canned and dried to get ready for the long, cold winter ahead of you. The two of you stocked up on essentials for the village, the inn, and your home and then treated yourselves to a warm lunch from one of the stalls. Pero was familiar with the food from his travels and made sure to get something delicious for both of you, with a little extra spice for him. When you tried it, your nose had run and you started sweating after just one bite. 

That evening, you joined in some dancing and mulled wine that kept the autumn chill at bay. When you got back to the inn, you told Pero you only had enough energy for a quick bath and nothing else, but his fingers between your legs while you bathed soon had you asking for more. 

In the morning, after a quick breakfast, you packed up Fred and Petal and were on your way, coats buttoned a little tighter as the breeze blew by a little colder than just a couple days before.

🎃🎃🎃

[goodluckclove]

Skylark's Apple Log: Cosmic Crisp

Hi! Scott Skylark here.

I don't really know why I'm doing this. I was having a nice conversation with my good friend Katy about the importance of putting apples in the fridge so you can enjoy a cold apple, and barely an hour went by before she suggested I make a physical (Digital?) log of my insights and share them with the internet. I hesitated at first, but she insisted it was for the best, as people online might only know of me right now as some "sad boy pretty boy".

To which I said "Huh? What? What does that mean?" But right as she started to explain I suddenly decided I really didn't want to know and made some loud nonsense noises to buy me time to leave the room.

Anyways, I'm definitely no food critic. If you give me some cheese, some bread, a hard-boiled egg or two and like 4-6 apples, I'm good for the day. I'm not picky. I'd hate to put some misinformation out there (Discourse! Can you imagine?) so I've asked the very capable Chef Edgar Gallows to comment on what I say before I post it.

Today I'd like to talk about the Cosmic Crisp, which is absolutely in my top ten favorite apples. They're a hybrid bred in Washington in the late 90s. Did you know there are people who dedicate their whole careers to breeding apples? That was my dream job for a while when I was a kid, but I always struggled with science and apparently that type of work is entirely science. Anyways!

When I can have a Cosmic Crisp and some toast for breakfast, I'm a happy guy with lots of energy for the day ahead. And when it's fresh out of the fridge, it's crisp and chill, so no need for a morning juice. I like to use an apple slicer to make nice inform shapes, but those end up pretty thick, so I'll cut each slice to be about half-thickness. Doing this means you get a better bite to enjoy the flavor - and it also makes it seem like you have more apples to enjoy, which is always fun.

Cosmic Crisps are really big. There are bigger that exist - the Hanners Jumbo for instance, which is actually sold exclusively in Oregon where I live! But the girth of a Cosmic Crisp is certainly nothing to sneeze at. It's really fun, and frankly a great option if you're looking for the most bang for your buck at most average supermarkets. Sometimes it gets to be a little overwhelming, though, because I personally can only eat about three before I start getting a little grossed out. But if you're just eating one or two, this is very much a consistently satisfying variety in terms of sweetness and bite.

In my youth I resented the coloring of a Cosmic Crisp, believing that a red apple should commit to the hue. Now I appreciate the look of an apple that is definitely reminiscent of something grown off a tree, compared to a Red Delicious that mainly just looks like a child's crayon depiction of an apple given physical form by some cruel, confused God. And the crisp! Very crispy apple, potentially the crispiest I've experienced by far.

If you choose to enjoy a Cosmic Crisp apple, I highly suggest pairing it with a little bit of peanut butter, or just eating it on its own. It's very yummy.

I don't know how to end this! If you're reading this I hope you see a video of a cute animal on the internet. There are so many out there. Way more than I remember.

Thanks so much!

Skylark

Chef's Note: I think I'm immediately unqualified to check this kind of writing for accuracy. Up until recently I thought all apples were either green or red. Even after being told otherwise I still kind of think that. It's pretty startling to know there is a person in existence who puts more thought into this type of thing than picking up an apple from a bag on the counter and taking a bite.

Chilled apples are pretty good. I'll give him that one.

-E.G.

Hey Songbird Taglist did you think I'd call you all here to read Scott talk about apples because here we are

@kuebiko-writing @cartoonghosts 

@atlasthecactus @aroaceghosties 

@booksntea6982 @xarrixii 

@mushroommanchanterelle @whoevenknowswhatimwriting

@fukurouonthesea

[toboldlygohome]

Hold Me Closer

Mark Watney X Reader

Chapter 1

Summary: You were looking forward to your month on Mars, but what happens when a month-long mission becomes indefinite? Will you and Mark make it back home, or were you doomed from the start?

Character(s): Mark Watney, Chris Beck, Melissa Lewis, Beth Johanssen, Alex Vogel, Rick Martinez

Warning(s): Cursing, Injuries

You stared out the window as you ate, watching the endless expanse of darkness spin around the ship. A week from now, you would be on Mars, conducting geological surveys and testing core samples. You were a chemist first and foremost, but you were also sort of a jack of all trades aboard the Hermes. You could fix things, run telemetry, conduct space walks, keep the plants alive, identify minerals, and of course you had a fair bit of medical training. It was because of your proficiency for all things scientific that you landed yourself a spot in Ares 3.

The excitement practically radiated off of you. You were so stoked, you couldn't even eat the food in front of you. So much to see, so many samples to run! You hoped there would be signs of past water in Acidalia Planitia!

"You know Y/L/N, the food is supposed to go into your mouth." Beck strolled in with his water bottle in hand. Evidently he was here for a refill.

"Thanks for the tip, doctor. I'll keep that in mind." You said before shoveling a spoonful of rehydrated ravioli into your maw.

"You looked lost in thought there, wanna share with the class?" He asked as the water reclaimer slowly filled his bottle.

"Just thinking about Mars," you shrugged.

"Ah, for a second there I thought you were thinking about your botanist," Chris smirked.

You stared daggers into his back. "My botanist?"

Beck grinned at you over his shoulder. "Well who else would you be thinking about? You've got such a wistful look in your eyes, I thought for sure your mind was on him."

"You really need to stop with the teasing Beck. It's a small ship, it'll get back to him eventually," you grumbled.

"Look, I just call it like I see it."

"Well, you're seeing wrong."

"You've been more and more distracted lately, there's no way it's only because of Mars," Beck chuckled. Dammit. You hated when he was right. You did like Mark, but let's be honest here. Who wouldn't like Mark? He was funny, smart, and he looked way too good in his grey flight suit. Completely unfair.

"God, you can be so annoying," you laughed.

"Only because I'm right."

"Mark and I are just friends, that's all we're ever going to be. Even if we didn't work together, and for the government no less, there's no way he'd ever go for the likes of me."

"What makes you say that?" Beck tilted his head curiously.

"Have you seen him?"

"Yeah, and?"

"Dude, he's like the second most attractive person on this ship!"

"Second?!"

"Objectively speaking, Johanssen is the first. Her posters sold out like hot cakes!"

"I know Johanssen is first! I meant, how is he second? What about me?"

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Who's the one who got the super sexy Under Armor ad again?"

"... Y/N? How many times have you watched that ad?" Beck laughed.

"Shut up."

"It must have been a lot for it to be this fresh in your mind."

"Don't you have a computer nerd to go flirt with?"

"Don't you have a botanist to ogle?"

You groaned and pushed your food away, but Beck scooted it right back. "Fine, fine. No more teasing for today," he laughed. "Just make sure you finish your food, it's important that you eat well."

"What if I'm not hungry?" you asked.

"Eat anyway, doctor's orders," Beck sassed as he left the dining area with his water.

You snickered and poked at your ravioli. If only you could just follow your heart like Beck. He was set on Beth and nobody was going to keep him from her. You just hoped he'd wait until after the mission to make it official for the sake of his career.

Of course you wanted to date Mark. Beck wasn't wrong on that front, but relationships are strictly prohibited among crew-mates. Maybe if you didn't work together, you might have worked up the courage. Probably not, but it would have at least been an option.

You slowly ate the rest of your cold meal and tried to think about anything else. Anything but the plant-loving engineer who had a choke-hold on your heart.

~~~

Mark groaned and climbed out of his bunk. It had to be at least two in the morning... at least according to the Kennedy Space Center. Jeez, he was starving. Luckily their food reserves came with snacks for just such an occasion! He exited his quarters and looked toward the room beside his. The door was open, which was quite a surprise. You were normally asleep by now, and Martinez was keeping an eye on the telemetry tonight. What were you doing awake?

Watney made his way to the dining area and took a look at all of his options. Hmmmm... trail mix it is. He grabbed a bag and took the ladder to the zero g portion of the ship. Everything was quiet except for the hum of the ship and Rick clicking his pen in the cockpit. He decided not to bother the pilot and instead went in search of his favorite crew-mate.

He found you floating in the cupola with your earbuds in. You watched as Mars inched ever closer, calling you to its surface. Mark couldn't resist the urge. He grinned mischievously and grabbed your ankle, causing you to yelp in surprise.

Mark laughed as you smacked him on the shoulder half-heartedly, "Mark! you scared the shit out of me!"

"Sorry, sorry!" he floated up and settled beside you. "I saw an opportunity and I had to take it."

"Jerk," you laughed and returned your focus to the lonely red planet.

"What are you doing up?" Mark asked.

"I could ask you the same question."

"I was hungry," he caught a floating peanut in his mouth and looked at you as he ate. "And you?"

"I couldn't sleep. I'm too excited," you admitted with a smile. "Ever since I was little, I wanted to go to Mars... I can't believe it's actually happening."

Mark smiled gently and watched as your eyes sparkled with adventure. That was one of the things he loved most about you. He loved seeing you light up when you learn something new or complete something for the first time. And for the few instances you failed, he loved watching you gear up to try it again. Nothing could shake you when you had your mind set on something. (He wished you had your mind set on him...)

This was a lifelong dream of yours, something you'd thought about, planned for, and fought tooth and nail to achieve. Now here you were, watching all of the pieces fall into place. Mark felt so lucky he got to be on this mission with you, that he'd get to see every moment of excitement, every vivid dream become a reality.

"What are you listening to?" he grabbed your earbud and stuck it in his ear. He grinned.

Hold me closer, tiny dancer. Count the headlights on the highway. Lay me down in sheets of linen, you had a busy day today.

You scooted closer to Mark so he could listen with you, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady. Oh what Watney would give to stay with you like this. Floating softly, slowly, taking in the view. He offered you his bag of trail mix with a cheeky smile. You laughed lightly and grabbed a bite. Fuck. He loved your laugh. He would listen to it on repeat if he could.

"Hold me closer tiny dancer," He mumbled along with the song as the chorus kicked back up.

"Count the headlights on the highway," you whispered back.

~~~

Finally.

Mars was so close, you could almost touch it! And here in a few hours, you would be~

You suited up for your ride in the MDV and helped Martinez and Johanssen with the pre-flight checks. Mark and Beck were loading the descent vehicle with everyone's personal items and Vogel was making sure all of the Hermes experiments were on autopilot. Commander Lewis oversaw the whole operation and kept in contact with Mission Control about the progress being made.

Once all the checks had been made and all the cargo had been loaded, everyone piled into the MDV and prepared for descent.

You took a deep breath as you checked the on-board navigation. You were really going to make it! You were going to walk on Mars! You checked, double checked, even triple checked your numbers before giving Lewis a thumbs up.

"We are go for separation," she told Martinez.

"At your command," Martinez said, poised to initiate the separation.

"Launch," Lewis said.

Your heart rate increased as the MDV shuttered out of the docking port. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my GOD!

"Approaching ten meters from Hermes," Johanssen said.

"Engine power readings are nominal. Ship internal pressure is stable." You said, unable to keep the excited quiver from your voice. The cabin was quiet for a few minutes. The tension could be cut with a knife. It wasn't a bad kind of tension. It was exciting, like teetering at the top of the world's tallest roller coaster.

"Approaching two kilometers from Hermes. Go for engine start up," Beth said.

"Martinez, go for engine burn," Lewis said.

You squeezed the arms of your seat and closed your eyes. This was the hardest part for you. You'd worked in the International Space Station before and reentry was your downfall. What was worse about entering Mars was that there was no water to break your fall if you crashed.

You felt a gentle pressure on your hand and looked up to find Mark already watching you with a smile on his face. He squeezed your hand as the MDV inched closer and closer to Mars.

"Hanging in there?" he chuckled.

"By a thread," you joked.

"You got this, tiny dancer," Mark winked.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. You both listened as Lewis and Martinez went back and forth calling out each action they performed. Mars completely filled the window.

You held onto Mark a little tighter.

~~~

The actual mission started off promising enough. The landing was good, setting up the Hab was a breeze, and life support was running at maximum efficiency. Unfortunately, life seemed to have this obsession with throwing you curve balls.

You scowled as you watched the screen while the storm outside raged on like an angry god.

"Jesus, we're gonna end up in Oz," Watney said. "What's the abort speed?"

"Technically one fifty kph. Any more than that and the MAV's in danger of tipping." Martinez said.

"Any predictions on the storm track?" Lewis asked.

"This is the edge of it. It's gonna get worse before it gets better," Johanssen replied.

"All right, prep for abort. We'll go to the MAV and hope for the best. If the wind gets too high, we'll launch."

If only that were the end of your misfortune. You literally had the audacity to think: 'How could this get any worse?' You got your answer when Mark was struck by a piece of flying debris. His vitals were offline, his suit depressurized on impact. He was likely dead, but still you were searching for him. The only trouble with that was you couldn't see two feet in front of you. The dust was thick and the wind was threatening your stability.

"WATNEY!" You called out, hoping the urgency in your voice would stir your friend from his incapacitation. "Watney, please respond."

"Y/L/N, I need you to get back to the MAV," Lewis ordered.

"But he could still be-"

"This isn't up for discussion. MAV. Now."

"I'm not leaving him behind. I know if it were any of us, he wouldn't give up. Not when there's still hope we could be alive."

"He's dead Y/L/N. W-we need to go, please," Beck pleaded.

You closed your eyes and forced down a cry. You didn't want it to be true, but Beck was right. Of course he was right. You were in denial... Still, you couldn't do it. If he was dead, you needed to see it for yourself. What if the numbers were wrong? What if-

You were struck with a sudden, blinding pain.

"Y/N!!" Lewis cried.

That was the last thing you heard before everything went dark.

~~~

Mark awoke with a gasp to the sound of beeping in his helmet.

"Oxygen level critical." A robotic voice said, causing him to pant heavily. His abdomen really fucking hurt. It took all his willpower to sit up. When he looked down, he found the source of his pain. The antenna for the com dish had turned him into a human shish kabob! He let out a cry as he tried to keep the antenna steady. Every movement sent a shock through his tired body.

Watney paused when he heard static in his helmet.

"Wa---y... W---ey c--- -n. Watney, If yo--- the-- please respond!"

"Y-Y/N?" Mark winced.

"Watney! Oh my god!" You sounded on the verge of tears. "I thought you were dead! I've been trying to call you for hours!" You sniffed and leveled your voice as much as you could. He could tell you were still coming down from your emotions. "What's your status?"

He groaned and pressed his head against the sand bank. "I've been impaled. Small puncture. Feel like shit," he said through heavy panting.

"Can you make it back to the Hab?" You asked.

"Yeah, I'll make it. I don't think it's deep enough to kill me." He stood up and immediately screamed.

"Mark! Are you okay? What happened?!"

"Antenna is still attached to the dish," he said through gritted teeth. He made quick work of the wire and struggled to his feet. "W-where are you? What's your status?"

"I'm trapped under the MDV. It plowed through me when I was looking for you. I'm not sure you can get me out in your condition."

Mark looked around and found the partially-mangled MDV a short distance away. Watney clutched his side and hobbled over, fearing the worst. He choked when he saw you. You were being crushed from the waist down by a fucking space ship. "O-oh my-"

"It's not as bad as it looks. I landed in some really soft sand. I managed to dig myself out from underneath, but I hit something solid and now I'm literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. The sand shifted under the MDV and now my chest hurts, but I can still feel my legs," you sighed and closed your eyes. "You need to get back to the Hab, Mark-"

"I'm not going to leave you." He grunted as he stepped closer. "If I lift this thing, can you pull yourself out?"

"Mark that's-"

"Can you?"

You grimaced and nodded, "Yes."

Mark nodded back and racked his adrenaline fueled brain for an idea of how to get you out. Still panting, he grabbed a metal bar from the ground and shoved it under the MDV. "On three," he said.

"One."

"Two."

Three."

He shoved the bar down and the ship eased up just enough for you to drag yourself out. You screamed as a searing, blinding pain ripped through your ribs. Mark felt his stomach drop at the sound.

He reached for you, but you pushed yourself into an unsteady standing position. "Fuck," you bit out and stumbled forward. "M-Mark" You inspected his wound. "Come on, we have to get this treated right now." You wrapped a supportive arm around his back and helped him shuffle back to the Hab.

His panting and gasps had only grown more pained as he stepped into the empty habitation. What little adrenaline he had left was wearing off. You rushed out of your suit as quickly as possible and helped Mark undress.

"Do you want to pull it out, or do you want me to do it?" you asked with as much calm as you could muster.

"I'll do it," he bit out. After a series of short, shallow breaths, he ripped the antenna out with a gut wrenching scream. You didn't have time to feel distraught as you shoved down his suit. He placed his hand on the wound. "There's something in it," he managed.

"Sit down," you ushered him to a chair and slid on some gloves. You made quick work in cutting away his shirt, administered a series of injections for pain and infection, and grabbed the retractor and forceps. "I'm sorry Mark, there isn't time to wait for the medicine," You didn't hesitate to insert the retractor and open the wound. He tossed his head back and blew out a long, shaky sigh. You bit the inside of your cheek and grabbed the object with the forceps. Carefully, you pulled it out and sat it in a dish. Mark groaned deeply. He was so pale and sweaty. You wanted to reach out and hold him, but you had a job to finish.

With the hard part done, you were able to relax and clean him up. The stitches were the final step. By then, the medicine was kicking in and Mark's strangled cries slowly turned into steady breathing. You leaned back in your chair and relished in the sound before standing up. You felt around your ribs for a moment and huffed before grabbing Mark some juice.

"Thank you..." He said, taking the bottle with shaking hands.

"You're welcome," you sighed and carded your fingers through his damp hair.

"Are you okay?" He rasped.

"I'm fine, just a couple broken ribs on the right side. I'll live." You gave him a tight smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I just ran a marathon," he chuckled, then winced.

"We should get you to bed-"

"Not yet," He shifted awkwardly in his seat. "There's an elephant in the room..."

"Ah," you sighed and sat down across from him, pushing away the pain in your ribs.

"What are we gonna do?" Mark murmured.

"Our odds aren't the best, but we'll make it work," you reassured him though you weren't sure it was the truth.

He closed his eyes and blew out a sigh. "You should be safe on the Hermes..." He swallowed. There were many stupid nights he wished you and him were the only two people in the world. Now he was beginning to realize how selfish that was. You were trapped on Mars because of him. If he hadn't have stopped to suggest the stupid rover plan, none of this would have happened.

"You should be too," you pressed a hand to his knee, sending a trail of goosebumps up his leg. Even now, you had him entranced with a single touch. "We should both be on our way home right now, instead we're here. But we're trained for this... We'll make it back, we're just gonna be fashionably late is all," you gave his knee a squeeze and pulled back.

"Can I see it?" he asked.

"See what?"

"Your ribs."

You opened your mouth to disagree, but decided a second pair of eyes on it might be for the best. You slowly lifted your shirt. Mark paled again as his eyes fell on your ruined abdomen. The whole thing was covered in splotches of purple and blue. Your back wasn't much better and he was sure your chest had received similar treatment.

His fingers ghosted over the bruises. "Shit," he whispered.

"It'll buff out," you lowered the hem of your shirt.

Watney closed his eyes and wished that this was all a nightmare, but upon opening them again, all he saw was you. You looked exhausted. No, exhausted was an understatement. There wasn't a word in the English dictionary that could describe your expression. You were devastated and trying to hide it. And why wouldn't you be? You had an endless supply of family and friends expecting you home. He only really had his parents to worry about. You had your parents, siblings, nieces and nephews, all your university and work friends... It should have been him and only him. You didn't deserve to be trapped here, least of all with the lowest ranking crew-mate on Ares 3.

"So, we're in a Hab designed to last 31 days..." You thought out loud. He could tell by that look on your face that you were puzzling through something.

"If the oxygenator breaks down, we're gonna suffocate. If the water reclaimer breaks, we die of thirst. If the Hab breaches, we'll explode. And if none of that happens, we starve to death." Watney said, giving in to the hopelessness of it all.

"If the oxygenator breaks, we have the spare. It's built to last 5 days for seven people. With only two of us, that will be... 30 days. More than enough time to fix the oxygenator." You thought out loud.

Ah, now he saw what you were up to. "If the water reclaimer breaks, we build a piss distillery while we fix it..." Mark corrected his earlier statement.

"We'll do bi-weekly checks on the Hab canvas to look for tears." You leaned back. "But you're right. Food is our biggest problem. We're gonna be a couple of hungry, hungry astronauts in a few months."

Mark laughed and shook his head. "Looks like we're gonna have to science the shit out of this..." He looked at you and was pleased to find you smiling back at him. "But that sounds like tomorrow-Watney's problem."

"For sure," you snickered. "There is no way I'm doing all that math tonight."

His heart fluttered as he watched the grin spread over your lips. Your enticingly soft looking lips... What is wrong with you Watney? Stop thinking about that! JEEZ... Creep... Anyway, just a moment ago, Mark was ready to give up. Now he had a little more hope that everything would turn out fine. Today fucking sucked, but tomorrow was a new day. Things are only hopeless when you give in to fear, and it was clear you had no intention of giving in.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"You should run for President when we make it back."

"What?" You laughed and clutched at the spot above your broken ribs.

"I'm just sayin' I'd vote for you," he shrugged in a playful manner.

You sighed, "what am I gonna do with you, Watney?"

"Make me your Vice President?"

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'll settle for Secretary of Agriculture."

"How about the Secretary of Homeland Security?" You smirked.

"But that's the bottom of the line of succession," Mark grunted as he sat up.

"Exactly," you laughed before groaning and cradling your side again.

"Alright, that's enough for today," he pushed himself into a standing position. "No more laughing for... how long does it usually take for broken ribs to heal?"

"Like, six weeks."

"I knew that," he smiled and helped you stand up. "No more laughing for six weeks."

"What you're asking for is impossible," you winced. "You always make me laugh. It's why you're my best friend."

"I'm your best friend?" Mark asked, unable to hide his surprise at the admission. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around your back, worried about making the pain worse in his attempt to help you.

You huffed and leaned into him, "don't let it go to your head, Watney."

"Too late," Mark smiled and led you slowly to your bunk. It wasn't easy for either of you to maneuver with your injuries, but eventually you managed to get settled.

"Comfy?" Watney asked.

"That's a relative term," your eyes softened at him, causing the botanist to go all weak in the knees. What a mess he had gotten himself into... "Are you sure you don't need help getting into bed?"

"You took good care of me Y/L/N, It doesn't hurt so much anymore thanks to you... Maybe if the President thing doesn't work out, you could be a doctor," He leaned his bare shoulder against the ladder.

Your eyes trailed down his chest to the bandages keeping the stitches from view. Your eyes started to burn, but you pushed it down and looked up to the bunk above you. "And take Beck's job? As if~"

Mark could almost believe things were normal. That they weren't all alone in a desolate wasteland. You were an anchor. He wasn't sure what he'd do if you weren't here. Would he have the strength to try? This would have broken most normal people... was he one of them? Or was he like you? Brave, selfless, and full of resolve to keep going. His chest hurt. You had gone looking for him... and now you were here. It was his turn to be your anchor.

You felt his eyes on you, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet them. You felt pathetic. Once again, Watney had to pick you up when you were down. For as long as you'd known him, Mark had been your helping hand. He had a sixth sense about these things. The moment things go wrong, he's there to dig you out of the rubble. You closed your eyes and remembered being in orbit. You remembered how he covered your hand with his and made everything okay again. You couldn't keep relying on him like this. It was your turn to be his helping hand.

"Somebody's sleepy~" Mark cut through the silence.

"It's been a day," you sighed and dragged your eyes to meet his.

"A sol," he corrected.

"Smartass," you fought the urge to chuckle. "Go to bed, before I get up and make you..."

"Don't need to tell me twice," He raised his hands in defeat. Mark moved to leave, but paused and grabbed your hand. "Hey Y/N?"

"Y-yeah?"

He gave your hand the gentlest of squeezes, "you're my best friend too..."

You glowed as the smile reached your eyes.

"Don't let it go to your head," he winked.

"Too late."

You held onto Mark a little tighter.

....................

Taglist: @jolovesfandoms

If you would like to be added to my taglist, feel free to reach out!

Thank you for reading!

[terramythos]

Next time you feel secure about food service, just know when I was a young adult at my first job at an upscale bakery, the owner refused to pay for air conditioning so it was always around 90 degrees in the shop since the giant oven was right in the center ^_^ and we also weren't allowed to take any breaks or sit down, so one time I got heat stroke so bad I projectile vomited in the bathroom, then asked the owner if I could go home and was told I would be fired if I did, so I immediately got back to work making and selling $15 sandwiches to people ^_^ it's ok though he got to sit in his office which did have air conditioning doing absolutely nothing. ^_^ another time he left the chicken salad spread for sandwiches out on the counter overnight in the 90 degree bakery and I asked him if we could dump it and make a fresh batch since it was spoiled and he made us sell it to customers anyway because he 'didnt have time' and it was our most popular sandwich ^_^ Also he sold 2 day old loaves of bread as fresh and made us lie to customers who asked ^_^ the cheapest loaf was $6 and this was over a decade ago