#some block b posters

[heartbreak-oclock]

Would anyone be interested if I started selling my old kpop albums 🫣

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

Summary: You have a long weekend that ends rather unexpectedly. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. 

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, some brief violence at the end.

A/N: I'm in a bit of a crisis so you're getting a bonus chapter this week. It's a beefy one and I wrote like 90% of it yesterday, just had the brain sludge by the time I was close to finishing and decided to rest before I finished and edited. Things are starting to get a big suggestive here, so as a reminder, this fic will have NSFW content in later chapters so please do not interact with it if you are under 18. I'd hate to have to block you.

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“How are you settling in?” 

“Fine.” You shrug. 

“Any instinct to nest at all?” 

You shake your head. “No.” 

“That’s fine.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down. “It’s only been just over a week. Have you started kneeling for Captain Price yet?” 

You shake your head again. “No.” 

Dr. Keller tilts her head. “Why not?” 

You shrug again. “He hasn’t brought it up.” 

“Is that something you’d like to start doing?” 

Her question catches you off guard again. You’re not used to being asked what you want, afterall you’re an omega. That’s not important. You’re here to serve. To do as you’re told. You remember watching your mother kneel for your father while he watched TV, her dazed, glazed over eyes staring at nothing as he almost seemed to hypnotize her into the shell of a perfect omega. It was your first taste of truly how much power alphas could hold over omegas. One hand on the back of your neck and it’s over. 

“I...I don’t know.” You say, picking at your sleeve. 

“You’re allowed to want things too.” Dr. Keller leans forward just slightly, giving you a smile. “I highly doubt Captain Price will make much of a fuss if you ask for something you need. He cares about you. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here alone.” She tilts her head at you, watching you pick at your sleeve. “Is there anything you want or maybe need that you haven’t asked for?” 

Softer blankets. A fluffier pillow. Different body wash and shampoo. New clothes. A picture or a poster or something to make your room seem less clinical. Your instincts to finally start kicking in. Price to want you as much as he’s supposed to. Ghost to like you. To go back in time and let Soap kiss you. 

To go back in time and never present as an omega. 

“No.” You finally answer, shaking your head. “I’m fine.” 

Dr. Keller stares at you for a long moment. You avoid her gaze, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I know you’re going to get tired of me saying this, but it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space for you. Everything that we discuss, everything that you say in here stays between you and me. Doctor-patient confidentiality is something I firmly believe in, even when it comes to alpha/omega relationships. Okay?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You say quietly, still avoiding her gaze. 

She continues to stare at you for a moment before she leans back on the couch again, shuffling some papers around. “The two betas, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish. How are you getting along with them?” She continues with her questions.

“Fine.” You lean back in your chair, hoping it might swallow you whole. “They’re easiest to get along with.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “Good. I’m a strong advocate for organic pack bonding. Helps avoid any dynamic struggles or false instincts down the line. How are you sleeping?” 

“Fine I guess.” You shrug. “I nap a lot.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Omegas need a lot of sleep and I can imagine adjusting to a new schedule has been rough.” Dr. Keller moves the papers to the couch next to her, looking up at you. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” 

You hesitate, pulling at the seam of your sleeve. It’s beginning to unravel a bit from your nervous picking. You’ll have to fix it. Dr. Keller is right, though. You could just ask for a new one. Price had told you they had a budget for your needs, plus they do get paid well. Anything you needed, they would gladly get for you. 

You just have to ask. 

It’s the asking that you’re not sure you can do. It feels strange to ask anything of your new pack. They’re supposed to be the ones needing things from you. If Soap had wanted to kiss you, he could have. Instead he left it up to you. He let you decide. You wonder if Price’s hesitation to move forward has been because he’s waiting on you. 

They’re all waiting on you, except maybe Ghost. They’re waiting on you to make the first moves, on you to set the pieces on the board. What is the first move? How do you set the pieces? Did you even need to? Would they fall into place organically if you just left them alone? Or would the tension continue to build up, would you continue to affect them until it became too much and the pressure causes everything to blow? 

“I’m affecting them.” You say, the words slipping out before you can stop them. 

Dr. Keller tilts her head as she stares at you. “What do you mean?” 

“They’re soldiers. They’re good soldiers with years and years of training, that’s why they're here. But...but I’m changing that. I asked Price if I could go with them and watch them run a training course cause I read in a book that I should get to know them and the things they like and so I was just curious what they do during the day when I’m not with them. He let me watch and he told me their top speeds running the training course but...none of them met those times with me there.”

You take a deep breath, the words pouring out of you easily now. You feel as if you’re not even thinking of them, not even measuring them or using caution as you normally would in any conversation. They’re slipping out from somewhere deep inside and now that you’ve opened that dam, you can’t stop it. 

“Price made them run through it five times and they still couldn’t match their top speeds. He said it was a good thing that they figured that out, that they need to know how I’m affecting them and how to adjust to me. And every time they ran through it, I couldn’t stop thinking about...” 

You take another breath, the air catching in your lungs. Your fingers are shaking, your body sinking deeper and deeper into the chair, almost as if you’re trying to get it to swallow you whole. As if the chair might wrap its arms around you and pull you into its softness and keep you there until you can’t breathe and it suffocates you. 

“What if it was me? What if they were having to rescue me? I know that’s a risk, a low one, but it’s still a risk. The CIA and Kate warned me that I could become a target if the wrong person found out about me. That’s why I can’t know anything about what they do because that puts me at more of a risk, and I could be a threat to them and the entire world if something got out that wasn’t supposed to.” 

You’re breathing heavily as the words finally come to a stop. Dr. Keller’s eyes are shining with sympathy as she stares at you. This is the most you’ve ever opened up to her, the most words you feel you’ve ever spoken to her in the two times now that you’ve met.

It feels good. It feels really good to voice your thoughts and your fears to someone on the outside, someone you can trust won’t tell anyone. You couldn’t voice these fears to your pack. They’re used to this kind of thing. They live with the knowledge they could die at any point, that any mission might be their last. How many lives have they seen lost, how many close calls have they had? You’ve seen scars already on arms, hands, faces. How many others are hidden where you can’t see? 

How many scars do they have inside, too? 

“I want you to know that your fears are very valid.” Dr. Keller says, her voice soft. “Being involved in the military comes with a lot of risks, and then you get to places like this and those risks only get greater and greater. I can’t promise you that something like that won’t ever happen, because we have no way of knowing. The risk is not zero for a reason.” 

Dr. Keller stands from the couch, moving to the chair next to you. The calming beta scent washes over you, and you know you have to be stinking up the room. She turns the chair slightly to face you, leaning forward onto her knees. You can see the imprints on the sides of her nose from where she’d been wearing glasses earlier. 

“That risk is also only low for a reason. Your identity has been well hidden, just like those of your pack’s. You’re on a well protected and secure military base. This place is a black square on Google Maps. I know, I tried looking it up when I found out where I was being assigned.” She reaches out, squeezing your arm gently. “And I highly doubt your pack would ever let anything happen to you. Packs are highly protective over their omegas. Even bad alphas can’t fight that instinct when their pack is threatened. Your pack would quite literally go to war for you.” 

She is right, you know she is. Yet that fear continues to wiggle at the back of your mind. You know they’d never let anything happen to you, but they’re going to start leaving soon. What if something happens while they’re not here? Who will help you then? The other soldiers? The betas that stare and the alphas that catcall you? 

“I guess you’re right.” You say, continuing to pick at your sleeve. At this rate, by the time your heat starts, you’ll have unraveled the whole sweatshirt.  

The buzz of your phone on your nightstand pulls you from your half asleep state. Your book is on the floor, having dropped from your hands and slid off your bed as you drifted off. Your lamp is still on, casting a warm glow around your room. You prefer the softer light compared to the fluorescent overhead, as most omegas do. There’s something too clinical and sterile about fluorescents. 

You grab your phone, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you try to blink the sleepiness away. It’s not terribly late, but you’ve been feeling the exhaustion all day since your conversation with Dr. Keller. 

“Be ready by 0500 tomorrow. Wear something meant for the outdoors.” 

It’s a text from Price, your brow furrowing as you read it over. Five in the morning on a Saturday? That’s the earliest you’ve had to get up since your arrival on base. And wear something meant for the outdoors? You can only imagine what he has planned for the day you had been planning on spending sleeping. 

You make a quiet noise of indignation as you text back in confirmation, setting an alarm so you can be ready by 5 am. Not up by 5 am, ready by 5 am. You have half a mind to call him, or to text back asking why he feels you need to be up before the sun. You know that’s the normal time they begin their mornings during the week, usually when you hear them up and moving around, getting ready to go work out. That’s usually when you roll over and go back to sleep for another hour and a half before your own alarm gets you up for breakfast. 

You pout a little as you set your phone back on your nightstand, reaching down to grab your book and set it next to your phone. You lay back down on your bed, turning off your lamp and bathing the room in darkness. Well, it’s not totally dark. The light from the lamp outside shines in your window, casting cold shadows across the walls and floor. You’ve never been a fan of total darkness. You’d grown used to having some light in the room at The Institute. One of your roommates had insisted on having a nightlight, and there were many nights you were grateful for it as you laid awake at the mercy of your racing mind. 

A nightlight. 

You add it to the mental list of things you want, but you’ll never feel brave enough to ask for. 

Your alarm rings too early in the morning, your hand lifting to silence it quickly. 4:30 am doesn’t feel like a real time as you rise in darkness, hand fumbling for the switch to your lamp. You glare into the dimly lit room, trying to blink the sleepiness from your eyes. How desperately you want to curl back up under the blankets and sleep until someone knocks on the door to check on you because you’ve slept so long into the day. 

You don’t doubt Price will knock in about 30 minutes to get you up. He’ll be disappointed if you ignore him, you think. He wouldn’t punish you if you went against his wishes, would he? 

You don’t know that. 

You haven’t even thought to push that boundary, nor have you discussed it. You don’t want to. You’re a good omega. 

You’re a good omega. 

You repeat it over and over as you get yourself ready, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You silently thank Kate as you pull on a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots, assuming that’s what Price means by “something meant for the outdoors.” Had she bought the items in anticipation of something like this happening? You are on a military base. You should have expected you’d be pulled into something like this eventually. 

You’re debating on a jacket by the time the knock comes, right at 5 am. You wonder how long Price has been standing in the hallway, or if he’s perfected arriving right on the dot after years of expected punctuality. You decide on the jacket after checking the weather, slipping it on as you open the door. He hadn’t mentioned needing anything, not that you own any sort of supplies for the outdoors anyway. 

He doesn’t say anything as you open the door, instead motioning with his head to follow. You quietly close your door, expecting the others to be waiting for you, but their doors are all closed and they’re nowhere to be seen. You feel slightly nervous as you follow Price out into the cold morning air, glad you decided on the jacket as your breath steams from your lips. 

Price is dressed in his usual boots and cargo pants with a cargo jacket and a beanie instead of a bucket hat. There’s two packs leaning against the side of the building, Price grabbing one and approaching you. 

“What are we doing?” You ask quietly as he helps you put on the backpack, buckling it across your chest. 

“Going for a hike.” He says, putting on the other backpack. 

“Why?” You ask as he turns on a flashlight, handing it to you before turning on another one for himself. 

“I’ll explain when we get there.” He says simply, motioning for you to follow him. 

You hesitate for half a moment. A hike in the dark? The base is surrounded by forest, but you sometimes forget due to the sprawling nature of the buildings, and your usual ventures outside the barracks being to either the mess or the medical center, all of which were central on the base. 

Why does he feel the need to hike in the dark? Surely it’s more dangerous, especially for someone not quite so physically inclined like you. If he wanted to go on a hike, why hadn’t he just said that to begin with? Maybe he would have, had you asked why last night instead of just immediately agreeing. 

Going into the woods alone in the dark with an alpha you barely know. 

Anxiety twists in your stomach for a moment before you force your feet forward, walking fast to catch up to him. He leads you down one of the roads on base, your boots crunching as the ground changes from asphalt to gravel. Your anxiety doesn’t lessen any as the trees loom high above you in the darkness, the forest like a black void before you. 

Your brain thinks up all the land predators that might exist in England. Do they have bears? You’ve seen Brave, but that’s in Scotland. What about big cats like cougars or mountain lions? Are there racoons in England? 

You’re on a military base, you think. Surely they have means to keep out large predators that might be dangerous. 

Your pack won’t let anything happen to you. 

Dr. Keller’s words float through your mind as you follow Price through the underbrush and into the trees. You’re not following any path, at least that you can see, though your experiences in the outdoors have been very limited since you left home. Your dad liked to camp and hike, and often you and your siblings were subjected to his weekend and holiday trips into the wilderness. 

You missed them in the early days at the Institute. You missed a lot of things back then. 

“What’s eating you back there?” Price asks as you weave through trees and underbrush. 

“There’s nothing...dangerous out here...is there, sir?” You ask, narrowly avoiding taking a branch to the face. “Bears or mountain lions?” 

Price chuckles. “The worst thing you might find is a stray badger or a snake that got through the fence somehow.” 

“Oh.” You say, shining the flashlight around you. “That’s good.” 

Price stops, turning to face you. “You’re fretting.” 

“Well, we’re in the woods in the dark at an ungodly hour and you won’t tell me why, sir.” You pout. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks, staring down at you with a hard look in his eyes. 

You stare up at him, your grip tightening on the flashlight in your hand. “Should I trust you?” 

He straightens up a bit, the corner of his lips twitching. “That’s something you have to decide.” He turns back around, starting to walk again. “All I can do is my best to try and prove myself to you. In the end, you’re the one that decides if I’m trustworthy or not.” 

You’ve never thought of it that way. He could do everything in his power to get you to trust him, but in the end it is your decision. He hasn’t proven you wrong yet, but then again...it’s only been a week. You’ve known him for a week and you’re following him through the woods alone in the dark. 

Your brothers would have a fit if they saw you right now. 

“Do you trust me?” You find yourself asking as you continue to trek through the woods, narrowly avoiding hurting yourself on various occasions. 

“You haven’t given me reason not to.” He answers, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. “I’d prefer it stayed that way.” 

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, sir. I hardly think I’m much of a threat on any term. Well, at least I don’t think I am. Ghost seems to disagree.” 

Price lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head. “Simon...Simon is a unique case. He’s good at his job, but that makes it hard for him to succeed in other areas. I’m sure Johnny has told you how much Simon couldn’t stand him at first. Now look at them.” He chuckles warmly, almost fondly. “He only sees you as a threat in your nature.” 

You frown, glancing up at the sky. It’s beginning to turn grey with dusk, the trees seeming to come alive around you in the dim light. “What do you mean by that, sir?” 

“You’re an omega. To bond with an omega, there is a degree of vulnerability required by the alpha. Being around omegas requires an openness that can be frightening if you’re not used to it.” He explains. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Simon isn’t the most open man.” 

You snort quietly. “Hadn’t noticed, sir.” 

Price chuckles at your answer. “You’re threatening to him, because you’re a challenge. Give him time. This entire situation is an adjustment for all of us, just as I’m sure it is for you too.” 

You don’t know how to respond to that statement. It is an adjustment. Joining any pack was, but a pack like this...a pack that has you tramping through the woods at 6 am for a reason you don’t even know yet is a major adjustment. 

Price stops after the sun has come up, taking a moment next to an outcropping of rocks. He clips your flashlight to your bag before unzipping it, passing you a bottle of water. You take it gladly, your mouth feeling dry after walking for so long. 

“How much further?” You ask as he drinks his own water. 

“Quite a ways.” He answers. 

“Can I know why we’re doing this yet?” You ask as he zips your water back into your backpack. 

“Not yet.” He says, continuing onward.

You let out an exasperated sigh, but follow him anyway. You don’t have much of a choice. 

Your legs are beginning to get tired, and you’re starting to feel a bit hungry. You’re not sure if you should say anything, or if he’d even stop. You assume he’s packed food, or at least you hope so. You’re going to get grumpy if you’re traversing all over the forest for hours with nothing to eat. 

Price slows his pace a bit as you approach what you think is a clearing. You can see a break in the trees ahead, the sun coming through brighter here. You’re sore and tired, your phone telling you you’ve been walking for just over two hours. 

How big is this base?

You break through the treeline, finding a small clearing with what looks like a fire watch tower in the middle of it. It’s not what you were expecting, the many scenarios of why you had been dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and forced to hike through the woods you’ve been thinking up the last two hours, did not end quite like this. You stare up at the tower, your head tilting back to take it in. 

“Not scared of heights, are you?” Price asks, standing beside you. 

“Maybe.” You answer, eyeing the staircase winding around it to get to the top. 

“Come on.” He says, nudging you forward gently. “Up the stairs.” 

The last thing you want to do after walking for two hours is climb a never ending staircase, but you don’t think you have much of a choice. Perhaps you can finally sit once you get to the top, and maybe you’ll even get to eat. 

Price follows behind you as you take the steps, climbing slowly. Your legs are screaming, your feet aching in your boots. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’re bleeding a little, or if you wind up with blisters. You’re breathing heavily by the time you get to the top, sweat beading on your brow. Price doesn’t even seem winded behind you, and you’re sure he could have jogged up the steps if he wanted to. 

The top of the tower is mostly empty except for a small table and two chairs. There’s no windows, the tower open between the railing and the roof. Price sets his bag on the table, unzipping it. You sink into one of the chairs, letting your bag drop to the floor. 

“Can I know why we’re here now?” You ask him. 

“Drink some water and take a breath first.” He says, pulling a couple packets out of his bag. MRE’s. 

You dig your bottle out of your bag, taking note of the other contents inside. A few snack bars, a couple MRE’s of your own, another unopened bottle of water, and a book. There’s things in the other pockets but you don’t bother looking, guzzling down more water. 

You stand from your chair, your legs almost buckling in protest as Price gets the MRE’s cooking. You lean against the railing, looking down over the forest that stretches out as far as you can see below. 

“Can I know now?” You ask, knowing there has to be a good reason for him to bring you out here. 

“A training exercise.” He says finally. 

“A training exercise?” You frown, turning to look at him over your shoulder. It wasn’t a training exercise for you, was it? 

“Sometimes when we get a specific target on a mission, the only thing we have to go off of is a general location and a scent.” He explains. “We have to be able to track that scent effectively, sometimes for miles. We run training exercises out here to test their ability to track scents to hunt down a target.” 

You stare at the sprawling woods, beginning to understand. “So, they’re hunting a scent that will lead them here?” 

Price chuckles lowly, his hands coming to rest on the railing on either side of you. Your stomach flutters as he leans in close, his scent strong in your nose as his breath fans your ear. “Technically, they’re hunting you.” 

Your knuckles go white as they grip the railing, your blood pulsing in your veins. You’re well aware that some alphas like to hunt their omegas. There’s some primal urge deep within your brains to chase and be chased. You’re well aware of how it usually ends, the thought making your stomach clench. 

“You gave me the idea.” Price says, the warmth of his body radiating through your jacket. “When you asked to watch them train, I saw how you affected them, I thought...maybe you can be useful for their training afterall.” 

“Do they...do they know it’s me?” You ask as he steps back from you. You fight the urge to whine at the loss of proximity. 

“They do now.” He says with a smirk. “They’ve already started, so if they can follow your scent successfully, then they’ll be here in about an hour.” He says, looking at his watch. 

You frown a little. “But...we walked for two hours.” 

He smiles a little, pointing to a break in the trees below you hadn’t noticed until now. “That trailhead is a 20 minute hike back to base.” 

Your frown deepens. “But-” 

“We weren’t walking in a straight line.” He explains. “We doubled back and recrossed the trail several times to try and confuse them, just as someone running from them would do.” He passes you one of the MRE’s. “That’s what I want you to do, if it ever comes to it. You don’t fight unless you have no other choice. You always try to run first.” 

“Yes, sir.” You say, sitting down again. You don’t think you’d do much damage fighting anyway, but you don’t tell him that. 

You open the package, peeking at the contents. Some sort of potato hash, you think, but you don’t really care. You’re so hungry you’ll gladly eat the mystery re-hydrated food. Price sinks into the other chair with a quiet sigh, digging into the food. It’s quiet out in the woods, the only other sound besides the two of you the sounds of birds. 

You’ve always loved the woods, the quiet serenity of such isolation. You could imagine Price living in a log cabin miles from civilization, with animals and his own garden, happily living in quiet peace away from the stresses of life and war. You blame the fluttering in your stomach on the lingering thoughts of a chase, of a hunt. The thought of running, trying to evade soldiers who train to hunt others by their scents has goosebumps forming on your skin. 

They’re not from the cold either. 

The sun has disappeared behind clouds, the grey weather of England quickly becoming normal to you. You haven’t seen the sun much since you landed in London two weeks ago, and you’re sure you’re not going to see much of it for quite a long while. 

“What’s got you all twitchy over there?” Price asks, breaking the silence. 

You turn to look at him, your mouth open a bit in surprise. “How can you tell?” 

“I’ve been trained to notice small details, sweetheart.” He says, grinning at you. “Your fingers always get fidgety first. Like you’re looking for something to do with them. Usually they disappear beneath your sleeves, or you start picking at your clothes. Your scent changes too. Subtly, but still noticeable.” 

Oh god. You wince a little bit. He can still smell you, even outdoors in an open area. 

“Your eyes start to move, looking all over the place, like you’re searching for something, or trying not to stare at one place too long.” He continues, making you want to sink deeper and deeper into the chair until you disappear. Of course he can read you like a book. They all probably can. “Your breathing always picks up, fast enough it’s noticeable if you’re paying attention. It’s easy to set you off too, sweet little thing.” 

Warmth floods your face at his words and his stare, the back of your neck prickling. You meet his gaze across the table, the look in his eyes making you feel like you want to crawl under the table and hide. You hate that he can read you so easily. You won’t be able to hide anything from him. 

He probably knows you already have. 

You continue to hold his gaze, not backing down despite the intense tickling at the back of your neck. Touch alphas like a challenge, you repeat it over and over in your head. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

A quiet growl rumbles through his chest, a shiver shooting down your spine so violently it nearly steals your breath. You fight the urge to bear your throat to him in submission, your head tilting back just slightly as your eyes squeeze closed. You’re panting, warmth pooling in your stomach as he chuckles lowly. He’s won, he knows it. You were never going to win. Nature was set against you. Your nature is to submit to him. 

“Innocent little thing, aren’t ya?” He says, pulling a cigar from one of his pockets. 

You know he smokes, you know they all do. You’ve smelled it on them many times, and it was to be expected. Your father hadn’t started until after he joined the Marines. Your mother hated it. “Dirty habit.” She always whispered as she smelled his uniform and the laundry he brought home from deployment. 

He could have had worse ones, you always thought. 

You can’t help but watch his lips curl around the cigar, the scent of tobacco permeating the air. His eyes are still on you, your own lips tingling a bit. You think back to how close you had been with Soap, inches from having your first real kiss. You regret it a bit now, not letting him kiss you. He wouldn’t have known he was your first, except perhaps by your awkwardness. 

You wonder how many times they’ve all been kissed. You wonder how many times they've kissed each other. You wonder how many barrack bunnies Price has been with, how many other omegas he’s been with. You can’t imagine Ghost being one for barrack bunnies, but then your mind sinks somewhere deeper. Ghost in his mask with an omega bent over the side of his bed, his hand wrapped around the back of their neck... 

Another shiver runs down your spine, your lower body beginning to pulse in time with your heart. 

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Price asks, still staring at you. 

“Soap almost kissed me a couple days ago.” You admit, not trusting yourself not to admit to the other things you’re thinking about. 

Price’s brows lift in surprise. “Did you not want him to?” 

Want. There’s that word again. You keep hearing it, but you’re not entirely sure what it means anymore. He’s asking to be sure that Soap didn’t force you into anything, even though you can’t imagine the beta doing such a thing. Betas usually weren’t aggressive without good reason, not like alphas. 

“Well...no, that’s not it...” You say, your face burning as you begin to regret your choice of topic. “I...I haven’t kissed anyone before...well, not like a real kiss. At The Institute, there was this omega, she was...progressive. Nothing they tried could break her of that and she got into the heads of a few other omegas. One of my bunkmates decided she didn’t want an alpha to be her first kiss, so...I volunteered.” 

Price continues to stare at you, a dark look in his eyes. You know some alphas like to watch omegas together. You’ve seen it in movies, things your brothers would put on when they were babysitting, things that would have gotten them hit over the head if your father found out. 

“Is that so?” He finally says, flicking some of the ash from the end of his cigar. “Not even a real kiss before you presented?” 

You shake your head. “No. I was...the weird kid in school. Most people considered it social suicide to be around me.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I bet quite a few of them are kicking themselves now.” 

“Why didn’t you want Soap to kiss you?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. He’s still wondering if he needs to have a long chat with the young Sergeant, or perhaps take other action. 

“Well...it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want it.” You say. “I just...thought you might be upset...if you weren’t my first...” You swallow nervously at his stare. “Since you’re pack alpha...you have the right to claim-” 

“I wouldn’t care.” He cuts you off, almost as if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of him having all the rights to claim you. As if he was uncomfortable with the idea of holding a claim over someone else. “If you want your first kiss to be with one of the others, then you shouldn’t keep yourself from what you want.” 

His words echo Dr. Keller’s. It confuses you, their willingness to allow you to want. You’re an omega, you don’t get to want. You get told what to do, what to wear. You get told what to want. You don’t make decisions, you sit and be a good omega for your alpha. 

“I don’t know what I want.” You say quietly. 

“Think about it.” He says, stubbing out his cigar. “I won’t be upset. Makes me feel a little better, in truth. Makes me feel less like an old creep trying to steal your innocence.” 

You try not to smile at his words. “I mean...you are, in a way.” 

He tsks at you but his eyes are playful as he checks his watch. “You’re trouble. We’ve got a few minutes before the hour is up. Let’s see if they can beat it.” 

You stare out at the treeline, taking deep gulps of the cool air to try and calm yourself as you wait for the others to arrive. You’re still tingling a bit from your conversation with Price, that slight tickle still crawling across the back of your neck. You want him to hold you there, feel his calloused skin against yours, feel the strength of his fingers as they press into your skin. You want him to take all the turmoil away, the fear and the insecurity and the confusion. 

You want to kneel for him. 

You’re saved from your thoughts as a familiar figure breaks through the treeline, big and hulking and wearing a skull on his face. You’ve never seen him in this mask before, only ever seeing him in his balaclava. It’s a haunting image, only his eyes visible as he looks up at the top of the tower. Soap and Gaz appear behind him, the three of them making for the staircase. 

Their boots echo on the steps as they race to the top, Soap the first one to appear with a wide grin. 

“Aye, we found the target!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you into the air and spinning.

You yelp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life. He smells like musk and sweat, and you can’t help but wonder if they ran here. He sets you back on your feet, your legs aching in protest after sitting for too long. The soreness of your morning hike has caught up to you, and you’ll be feeling it for a few days. 

“Not bad.” Price says, looking at his watch. “For the first time with a new scent.” He grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get back and you can have the rest of the day off.” 

You let out a whine in protest as Price grabs your backpack, gaining the attention of the four men. “You mean we have to walk back too?” 

“It’s not even a kilometer.” Gaz says with a grin. 

You pout. “I don’t know how far that is! I already had to walk for two hours this morning. My legs hurt.” 

“You didn’t stretch before you started?” Soap asks. 

“No! I didn’t know we’d be hiking halfway across the country when I was told to get up at 5 am!” You continue to pout. 

“Come on, you’ll survive.” Price says, clipping your backpack across your chest again. “You can sleep for the rest of the day.” 

You definitely have blisters, the sides of your feet burning as you walk down the stairs. You’re going to take a very long shower when you get back to base, and then crawl into bed and sleep until someone inevitably knocks because they’re worried about you. You’re still pouting, not having even thought about how you were going to get back to base. 

Soap stops at the bottom of the steps, turning to glance at you behind him as he bends down slightly. “Hop on, hen.” 

It takes you a moment to conceptualize what he’s doing before you break out in a grin, putting your hands on his shoulders to hoist yourself onto his back. His hands grip the backs of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on as he carries you piggy-back style. 

“I’ve lifted weights heavier than you, bonny.” He says, not seeming to struggle at all with carrying you. 

“Well, omegas are supposed to be small.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“Aye, like a wee bairn.” Soap laughs. 

He carries you all the way back to base, barely even breathing heavily by the time you break the treeline. The rocking motion of being carried, along with your exhaustion, has lulled you into a daze, your head leaning against his as you desperately fight sleep. 

You’re jostled awake as Soap gently bounces you on his back. “We’re back, hen.” 

You grumble sleepily, holding onto him tighter. “Comfy.” 

“You’ll be comfier in bed, love.” Gaz says, stroking your hair. 

“Carry me.” You murmur, both of them freezing. 

“You sure about that, hen?” Soap asks. “You wan’t tae let us in your space?” 

“Mmm...yeah.” You murmur, nuzzling Soap’s shoulder. 

You miss the silent conversation between them in your half asleep state, the way Gaz’s hand hesitates on the knob, their slow, cautious steps into your space. It was a big deal, infringing upon an omega’s space. It’s sacred. One could only enter with permission, or if it was an emergency. Infringing on that space without permission could be detrimental. 

Soap gently lowers you onto your bed, helping you curl up on your side. Gaz unties your boots, setting them on the floor next to the bed before pulling off your socks. He lets out a quiet hiss as he spots your raw and blistered feet. 

“That’s going to hurt later.” He whispers. “No wonder she didn’t want to walk back.” 

“Didnae say nothing either.” Soap says, his fingers trailing your cheek. 

“Stubborn little omega.” 

Gaz’s words are the last you hear before you’re lost to sleep, your brain forcing you to give in to your exhaustion finally. 

It’s knocking at the door that wakes you. You’re not sure what time it is, or what planet you’re on. Your eyes are crusty with sleep, your pillow damp from drooling. You’re in your bed in the barracks, tucked under a blanket. You vaguely remember giving Gaz and Soap permission to enter before you were out again. 

It’s still daylight, judging by the light around the edges of your curtains. Or maybe you had slept through the day and it was morning. You can’t tell, feeling a bit like you were hit by a bus and jumped dimensions. 

“C’mon lass, ye got tae eat at least one meal today.” Soap’s voice calls through the door. 

You let out a groan, pushing yourself up to sit. You haven’t even changed or showered, but your shoes have been removed. You flex your toes, wincing at the sharp pain from them. You pull the blanket off, staring down at your bandaged feet. They must be as blistered and raw as they had felt in your shoes. You don’t want to get up. You’re going to be sore and probably walking with a limp. 

You know what they’re going to think. 

The stares you’ll get. 

Soon it will be for that reason, though, you think. Why not let them think it now? Then maybe by then they’ll be used to it and it’ll be much less mortifying for you. 

You get up, padding barefoot to the door. You open it, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?” Your voice sounds rough with sleep, your tongue feeling heavy. 

“Almost 1800 hours.” He answers. “Price let ye sleep. He and Gaz already ate. Had something tae take care of.” 

You let out a quiet groan as you rub your eyes. You slept all day, past lunch and nearly past dinner. You likely would have kept sleeping, had they let you, but then you’d be up at an ungodly hour having to scrounge for food in the rec room. 

“Get some shoes on.” Soap says. “We’ll get food in ye, then ye can sleep more.” 

You let out a quiet grumble but do as he says, grabbing your most comfortable pair of shoes before following him out of the barracks. You let your hand slip into his, the base less populated on the weekend. The mess is still busy, though, most of those that stay keeping their schedules even over the weekend. 

Soap helps you make your tray before finding Ghost sitting at a table. You deposit your tray across from them before going to grab something to drink. You look over the options, your sleep-drunk brain trying to decide on what you need. 

“I recommend coffee.” A voice says behind you. 

You spin around, looking up at a familiar face. Your stomach twists nervously, the back of your neck prickling. It’s the soldier that had been staring at you your second day on base, the one Ghost had scared off with his glare. 

“You look like you need it.” He says, giving what you assume is supposed to be a friendly smile, except to you it looks like the grin of a hungry wolf in a storybook, and you’re the injured rabbit about to be devoured. You flinch just slightly as he holds out a hand. “I’m Corporal McKinney.” 

You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t want to touch him at all. Catcalling you could handle, the stares and the whistles were nothing. None of them have been so brave as to approach you before now, and you’re starting to realize you prefer it that way. 

An overwhelming scent suddenly washes over you, the prickling at the back of your neck intensifying. It’s rich and deep, the scent of leather and gunpowder lacing the ozone-like tang of anger, of danger. 

“Can I help you, Corporal?” The deep voice rumbles behind you, the warmth close enough all you’d have to do was lean back slightly and you’d be touching him. 

The soldier’s eyes lift from you to Ghost behind you, the wicked gleam to them fading as he stares down the giant alpha. “No, sir.” The soldier swallows thickly. “Just thought I’d introduce myself to the new omega on base. Figured we’d be seeing a lot of her around.” 

“She’s no concern of yours.” Ghost says, a dangerous rumble vibrating at the edge of his voice. “You were given the briefing.” 

He hesitates and you know he’s measuring the risk of staying, of saying something else. It’s not just the threat of a dangerous alpha, but also of his superior. “Of course, sir.” He finally says, eyeing you once more before he turns on his heel, leaving the mess. 

“What do you want?” 

You turn on your heel, staring up at Ghost. You’re shaking a little, staring up at him wide-eyed. You no longer feel the haze of sleep, wide awake and alert. Ghost is staring down at you, his scent far less prominent than it had been before.

“To drink.” He motions to the selection, waiting on you to answer. 

You stare at the options, your brain trying hard to snap back into the present, to comprehend what you’re looking at. You’re on edge, on high alert after that confrontation. 

“W-Water please.” You manage to stutter out, 

“Go sit back down. I’ll get it.” He says, turning his back to you. 

You scurry back to the table, still trembling as you take your seat again. You’re getting stares, likely from the change in your scent. It’s alerting every alpha and beta in close proximity, their instincts reacting to the scent of fear, of an threatened omega. 

“Ye alright, hen?” Soap asks, giving you a worried look. The scent of beta washes over you, Soap projecting his scent to try and cover yours and calm you all at once. 

You nod, trying to swallow the panic before you alert the entire mess to your current emotional state. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.” 

Ghost returns with a glass of water, setting it in front of you before taking his seat again. 

“Thank you.” You murmur, taking a long drink of it. It’s ice cold, the sensation shocking you back into reality a bit. 

You’re still trembling slightly as you eat, the back of your neck still prickling. You glance around the quickly emptying mess, eyes following every person that walks too close to the table. You know you’re safe. Soap and Ghost would make quick work of anyone who tried anything. 

Ghost did make quick work of the alpha that had approached you. 

You’re still in a bit of disbelief that Ghost had come to your aid. You remember the anger burning in his scent, the rumble at the edge of his voice. An alpha poised for a fight. Of course, you were being cornered by another alpha. You don’t doubt Soap could have easily won that fight if he had to, but an alpha had the natural advantage in a fight against other alphas. If it had been a beta cornering you, would he have still come to your aid? Or would he have watched and let Soap handle it? 

You're drawn from your thoughts as Soap’s phone rings, and he dismisses himself from the table to answer it. You wonder who it might be. Family maybe? Price? You wish you had someone that would call you regularly. You will, once they start leaving you. 

You’re left alone with Ghost, your eyes trying to look anywhere but at him. He takes your tray once you’re done, going to dump it before motioning for you to follow. You’re still a bit shaken, though you’ve managed to get your trembling under control, as well as your scent. 

He leads you back towards the barracks, your pace faster to keep up with him. Your feet hurt, but you’re eager to get back to the familiar safety of the barracks. 

You stop as a whistle sounds through the air, Ghost’s steps faltering as well. 

“Gonna go spread your legs for that freak, bunny?” A voice calls out across the courtyard. “I’m sure I could offer you a better time. At least you’ll be able to see my face.” 

The smell of ozone washes over you again, burning straight to some primal part of your brain. You’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion, or the emotions still reeling from your confrontation in the mess, but you turn on your heel, stalking over to the group of soldiers. You’re trembling again, but not out of fear. The anger has gone straight to your instincts, burning hot through your veins. 

The soldiers laugh as you approach, the one that had spoken grinning vilely at you. “Gonna take me up on my offer, omega?” The sound of your title from his lips nearly makes you shudder in disgust. It’s wrong, it sounds wrong being said in such a way. “I’d love to bend you over and stare at that sweet ass all night-” 

It’s not until your hand is throbbing that you register what happened. The soldier stumbles back a step, hand moving to his face. Your hand is balled in a fist, knuckles throbbing from the punch you delivered to his face. The next few moments seem to move in slow motion, your body pushed backwards as a hulking form comes to stand in front of you. The scent of ozone is still burning hot in your nose, anger pulsing through your body. Your ears are ringing, your hands refusing to unball from the fists they’ve closed into. You’re breathing heavily, eyes training on a small speck of mud on the back of Ghost’s jacket. 

“-You even so much as look in her direction again, I’ll rip your intestines out, tie them to the back of a humvee and drag you all the way to London, understood?” The dangerous rumble is back at the edge of his voice, his own hands balled into fists. 

“Loud and clear, sir.” The soldier spits out, massaging his face from your punch. 

A rough hand closes around your arm, making you stumble as you’re half dragged towards the barracks. You’re breathing heavily, breaths coming in gasps as the flood of emotions through you grows to almost be too much. You’re led down the hall towards the rec room, Ghost pushing you inside. 

“Sit.” He snaps, pointing at the couch.

You scramble to sit where he pointed, your brain beginning to move in autopilot as you cradle your throbbing hand to your chest. It’s still curled in a fist, the adrenaline pumping through you preventing you from uncurling your fingers. You try to steady your breathing as Ghost digs around in the fridge for a moment. You flinch as the door slams closed, Ghost dropping an ice pack on the coffee table before he takes a seat next to you on the couch. 

He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him rather roughly. He forces your fingers to uncurl, his own rough fingers digging into your hand, poking and prodding. He moves your fingers, bending your wrist and moving your arm. “It’s not broken.” He says, grabbing the ice pack and slapping it across your knuckles. “Luckily.” 

You’re still trembling, your hand lifting subconsciously to hold the ice pack in place. You feel dazed, not unlike you had earlier when you’d been pulled from sleep, only this time you can feel the emotions still pulsing through you. The remnants of anger, the disgust, the fear both from attacking an alpha, and the reprimanding you’re sure you’re due for doing such a thing.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” You murmur, feeling far away, outside of your  body looking in. 

“Probably not.” Ghost says. 

You turn slightly to look at him, pupils dilated as you simultaneously appear to see him and look straight through him. “Price is gonna find out.”

Ghost nods again, the burn of ozone gone from his scent. “He’ll believe you, though. Anything you tell him, he’s going to believe you over what anyone else says.” 

You stare at him, the skull mask from earlier gone, leaving him just in his balaclava. His eyelashes are blonde, you think as you take him in, trying to ground yourself. His skin looks soft, but that could just be the omega screaming at you. You expect him to get up, to leave you alone until you find the will to move, or one of the others finds you. Yet, he stays where he is, eyes focused across the room as you sit there. 

“You’re a purebred alpha.” You say, breaking the silence with the thought that had come to mind earlier. You need to keep talking, to keep your mind steady while you relax. 

“How did you figure it out?” He asks, not denying it. 

“Your scent.” You say, recalling earlier in the mess, the way his scent had permeated your entire body. You hadn’t just sensed it, you had felt it. His emotions, his anger, the hint of desperation for the Corporal to make the smart decision and walk away. “It’s different from other alphas. Price smells good and I’d like to roll around in his scent, but yours hits some deep primal part of my brain.” You say, turning slowly to face him. “Makes sense you’d end up in a position like this. You’re supposed to be like, an apex human.” You laugh quietly. “Just a couple of purebreds. What are the odds?” 

“Very high.” He answers. 

You laugh again. “Yeah, I know. Both of my parents were purebreds, and my grandparents. Both of them came from a long line of purebreds.” Your brows pinch into a frown. “I didn’t see it in your file, though.” 

“I don’t want it to be.” He explains. 

“Makes sense.” You say. “If I’d had that choice I’d have it left out too. As soon as someone sees it, that’s how they measure your worth. It’s not about you anymore, it’s your status they want.” You lift the ice, moving your fingers. Your hand is sore, your knuckles starting to swell a bit. 

“It’ll bruise.” He says, staring down at your hand. 

“‘Spose it could have been worse.” You say, grimacing at the ache pulsing all the way to your shoulder.

“Yeah,” He scoffs. “You could have broken your arm with a punch like that.” 

“‘S not my fault the CIA didn’t teach me much.” You murmur. “They mostly made me run.” You remember the hours and hours you spend running circles around the gym. So many circles, over and over again. 

Get involved in their hobbies. Your brain flicks through that section of the book, an idea beginning to form in your head. You’d considered it a few days ago, when you first read that chapter. Ghost speaks in violence and warfare, fighting and defending. How do you bond with the apex of humankind? 

“Teach me to fight.” 

His eyes shift slowly until he’s looking at you. You wish you could see the rest of his face, read his expression. His eyes don't give you much to go off of, something he'd likely perfected over the years. 

“Or, at least defend myself.” You continue, fighting the urge to shrink back under his gaze. “I know, Price already told me to run first, but what if that's not an option? Am I gonna throw a shitty punch and hope it works? Aim between the legs and hope I'm faster than they can block? I promise I won't go around trying to fight asshole alphas.”

He continues to stare at you, his eyes locked on yours. Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach twisting nervously but there's no challenge in his gaze, not even a playful one like you'd initiated with Price. He's simply staring. 

You wonder what he's looking for, what he's thinking. Will he laugh at you for asking? Tell you to ask someone else? Get Price to do it since he’s actually your alpha? 

“Fine.” He grunts, breaking eye contact first as he pushes himself to stand. “We start Monday. Early.” 

A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him leave the rec room. You may have just found your way into Ghost’s heart, or at least a way to get him to tolerate your presence. 

Monday. Early. 

You’ll be ready. 

NEXT ->

Taglist Part 1:

@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10

[byproducts-of-my-imagination]

Everyone Hates Todo Except You

The best part about Todo is that you don’t have to put yandere in front of him because his normal behavior already screams delusional and obsessive.   You cannot convince me that he doesn’t sniff all your things as soon as you’re not looking.  He’s just so intense.  I love this man, need to catch up on jjk.

~1k words. Thank you to whoever requested this and I hope you enjoy!

At the Kyoto branch, nobody really bothers sticking their nose in Todo’s business.  But when there’s an enormous mound of trash bags outside his room that just keeps getting bigger, concerning glances and eyebrow raises no longer cut it.  Normally his antics earn a side eye or two, but lately it’s been a little much, even for him.  At the breakfast table the next day, the girls decide to draw straws to see who has to tell him to move his shit.

“It’s not fair!  Why do I have to do it?”  Miwa groans, cursing her bad luck for the thousandth time.  

“It is fair, you just happened to draw the short straw now go deal with it!  We'll back you up.”  Mai grins, knowing full well she rigged it.

Kasumi Miwa would rather be doing literally anything else at this moment.  She timidly knocks on the door, and says, “Todo?  Could you move all this stuff please?  You’re starting to block the hallway.”

“Yeah I’ll get to it whenever I get the rest of this junk cleaned up.  Don’t worry there’s no food waste so there shouldn’t be any smell.”

“B-but Todo…. It's been almost a week now…”  The only response was the muted sound of shuffling.

Miwa looks back in defeat at her so-called “back up” as they peek from behind the corner.  Their best bet now is to get one of the boys to convince him.  And if they fail it’s straight to Utahime-sensei.  

Todo looks at his room, emptier than it’s ever been.  He knew this was the likeliest outcome.  Takada-chan was a beloved idol, and even if she liked him back (which he thought she might have at some point) there was no way she could be with him.  He knew, but it doesn't mean it hurt any less.  There were years of carefully collected merch, thousands of dollars being stuffed into trash bags to be thrown away.  But instead of the despair he carefully denied for years, he didn’t feel any loss throwing away all the autographed posters and pictures.  No, he had something much better now, someone who could actually be with him in this wretched, boring world.  He had his wonderful, gorgeous, beautiful, perfect in every way girlfriend.  And while you weren’t aware that you were destined to be with him yet, he would make sure you’d know soon.  As soon as he finished purging his space of Takada-chan (it wouldn’t do to have pictures of an old flame) he’d confess.  

A few days later he was tying up the last trash bag, ready to enact his plan.  He asked you to meet him under the largest tree in the forest on the edge of the training field.  Several hypothetical scenarios floated through his mind, and he focused on the one where you’d enthusiastically said you loved him back and then he married you and had many children.  As he neared the confession site, Todo felt yet another arrow go through his heart as you came into view.  I’ll never get tired of seeing her.

“Todo, is everything okay?  What’s up?”  A shiver ran down Todo’s spine, goosebumps rising.  God, even your voice was perfect.

“I love you.  Promise me, y/n.  That we’ll spend the rest of our lives together.”  He got down on one knee like a proposal, looking up at you like a devout follower.

“Todo… I don’t know about the rest of our lives but why don’t we start with a date?  I like you too.”  While you were a bit taken aback by his forwardness, you brush it off as Todo being Todo.  You never disliked his honesty and unabashedness.

“My girlfriend!! I knew you felt the same!”  A single tear ran down Todo’s face.   

Back to the dorms, it wasn’t long before everyone found out and congregated at your room to badger you with questions.  

“Ugh that gorilla?  You guys are dating now?”  Nishimiya asked, firmly believing Todo to be an improper and inadequate boyfriend.  

“I thought he only had eyes for that idol Takado or whatever,” Miwa chimes.

“It’s Takada,” Mai corrects, not able to make eye contact with Nishimiya’s suspicious glance in her direction. 

“We’re dating now!  He just asked me out, and he’s really good to me.” you reply, thinking of how Todo insisted on carrying you back to the dorms, gently setting you down before running off saying he needed to ‘prepare’.  

“You can do way better than Todo, trust us.” The girls all nod in agreement.  However, Todo is outside your room balancing a tray of perfectly cooked lunch and a cold pitcher of water.  

“What are you guys talking about?”  he knows already, but wants to hear them say it to his face.  

“How y/n is too good for the likes of you.”  Mai minces no words for Todo.  With the uncomfortable tension rising, the Kyoto girls hastily make an exit.  

“My love, I made lunch for us.  I know I am not handsome, or come from wealth and a good sorcerer family like some of our classmates.  But I will be devoted.  I will never stray from you, I’d die if you asked me to.”  he says, as he sets the meal on your small desk, pulling out utensils and napkins.  His normal confidence seems to waver a bit, and it seems that not even Todo is immune to worrying about what other people think of him.  

“Todo, don’t worry about what they say and please don’t say you’ll die for me.  I like you a lot, I wouldn’t have accepted your confession if I didn’t.  I also think you’re quite handsome.”  

“You love me back?”  he whispers, kneeling at the edge of your bed, looking up at you.  While it’s a bit too early to tell, Todo’s hopeful, reverent look has you obliging him. 

“I do love you back.”  He embraces you, and you can hear his heartbeat in his bare chest.  It feels good to be loved so wholeheartedly, and you’ll give him all the love you have to repay him.  

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

You guys really got me to one thousand likes in less than two days.

I don't even know what's happening but it's pulling me out of a really awful writer's block.

I have more ideas than I know what to do with so expect a good bit of content in the future.

You're all incredible 💗 ❤️

Have some Shanks headcanons, ranging from fluffy to spicy. As a treat.

I was a little iffy about Live Action Shanks at first, since he was literally my first manga/anime crush ever. But he grew on me more with every scene.

Especially that final scene where he saw Luffy's wanted poster. I mean....

Lookit that smile 🥹

So anyway.

LA!Shanks X Fem!Reader

Shanks A — Z

A — Afterglow (How are they after sex?)

Holding you close and telling you how much he adores you.

He's going to give you anything you want. Anything.

"Do you need anything, sweetheart? I've got you."

You want a bath, he's going to run it for you, carry you there once it's ready, and help you bathe.

Food or a drink, you just lay down, he's got it.

Shanks is completely and utterly devoted to making you feel like a goddess after sex.

Showering you with soft, tender kisses and caresses and endless praise, rubbing his fingers between your wet folds to prolong your pleasure as long as possible.

If it seems like he's trying to coax you into another round, he probably is. Your're going to have to outright tell him you're if spent, because he can't get enough of you.

B — Backrubs? (Do they like them? Like giving them?)

You can expect it nightly. You're his princess and he's going to pamper you.

He might only have one hand, but dear gods those fingers are magic.

He's not asking anything in return, but if you're offering then he isn't going to turn you down.

Closing his eyes and groaning as your fingers work through the tension in his muscles.

"Oh, you're too good for me, love."

C — Cuddling (Do they enjoy cuddling a lot ot only at certain moments?)

If you're within arm's reach, then Shanks has his arm around you.

His main mode of affection is physical.

Pulling you you to his side, resting his head over yours, tugging you down onto his lap.

He wants you close, as much and as often as you're willing to be, and he does't give a damn who sees.

D — Dance (Are they good at it? Do they enjoy it?)

Not really big on dancing, but if you want to he isn’t going to turn you down.

He'll take any excuse he can get to hold you close.

Tucking your hair behind your ear so he can rest his temple against yours.

His arm curled loosely around your back.

E — Extravagant Gestures (Things they do to make you feel loved)

He would literally move mountains for you if he could.

You tell him your dreams, well now they're his dreams too.

Anything you accomplish, whether alone or with his help, warrants the most lavish of celebrations.

He isn’t particularly materialistic, but what his princess wants, she gets, no questions asked.

"If you wanted the moon, I would make this ship fly so you could stake your claim."

F — Fighting (How do they hand arguments/apologies?)

All puppy-dog eyes and pouts.

Shanks makes it impossible to stay mad at him for any reasonable length of time. He's just too damned adorable.

Wrapping an arm around you and laying his head on your shoulder, refusing to let you go until you listen.

Even if it's a serious argument, the look of utter heartbreak on his face makes you cave every time.

"Come on, sweetheart. Just name it, I'll do anything."

He isn’t too proud to apologize—he knows when he's in the wrong, and he'll do anything in his power to make it up to you.

G — Going Out (What do they do for dates?)

If Shanks is the one doing the planning, you can expect to end up one of two places.

You might be at the nearest tavern, going shot for shot on rum until you can't see straight, singing sea shanties into the dark hours of morning.

Or laid out on a secluded stretch of beach in the moonlight, sharing a bottle or two, wrapped up in each others' arms and lips and forgetting the passage of time entirely.

He's happy doing anything that means he gets to spend time with you, though, so he's fine with going out of his element if you have something else in mind.

H — Heartache (How would they handle it if you broke up with them?)

Don't. Please. Just don't. He'll be inconsolable.

He'll cry. Don't make Shanks cry. That's just heartless.

He won't show it in front of his crew. He'll keep up his usual carefree and aloof facade.

But once he's alone, he'll be in complete shambles.

He'll probably drink himself senseless.

He loves hard, with every fabric of his being, and losing you would utterly destroy him.

I — Intimacy (When are they intimate with you? And how often?)

Literally all the time.

Shanks always kisses you like no one's watching, pulling you flush against him and delving his tongue between your lips and squeezing your rear.

In his eyes, there's no wrong time to show how much he treasures you. How much he wants you.

His ship could be under fire by a full Marine armada and he would still pull you in for a slow, sweet kiss if the mood struck.

In fact he'd probably do it just to show the Marines how completely unbothered he is.

J — Joker (How do they make you laugh)

If Shanks isn't cracking some stupid joke, you're worried something is wrong.

He loves making people laugh, loves seeing people laughing and enjoying life.

And making *you* laugh? That gives him life.

He's gone far as to pull your panties on while you're alone together in the captain's cabin and imitate you being dramatic about something until you're begging him to stop before you choke to death on your own giggles.

K — Kissing (How good? How often?)

If you're within eyeshot, he *has* to kiss you.

He knows that his crew will roll their eyes and tease him about it, but he doesn't care. Your lips are like a drug and he simply can't get enough.

His kisses tend to be light and plauful.

Lightly biting and pulling at your bottom lip.

Flicking his tongue across lips to coax yours out.

Letting his tongue swirl slowly around yours before pulling back and leaving you craving more.

Pulling you into his lap when he deepens the kiss.

Lifting his hand to flip off anyone with the audacity to tell you two to get a room.

"Don't pay them any mind, princess. They're just a bunch of jealous pricks."

L — Lay down (How do they sleep with you? Are they a cuddler or do they prefer their space?)

He has to be against you in bed.

If you roll away in your sleep, he will subconsciously shift closer to you.

Spooning is definitely his favorite—your back and your ass pressed up against him, his arm draped over your waist so he can caress your stomach or lay his palm over one of your soft breasts...absolute *heaven*.

M — Making babies (Do they want to settle down and have kids?)

Shanks is good with kids, being that he's practically an overgrown kid himself half the time.

All the same, he just...isn’t sure.

He loves you to death. Having a family with you would be a dream come true.

But if he had to leave his ship, his crew behind? He just isn’t sure he could do that.

Because he loves them to death, too.

N — Nervous? (How confident are they when it comes to romance?)

Shanks posseses the positively deadly combination of being unnecessarily charming and handsome, and incredibly aware of it.

Thus, his confidence is through the roof.

He knows he doesn't need anything more than a cheeky grin and a soft carress or two to get you in bed.

That being said, he'll spend all day subtly teasing you to the end of your sanity to make sure you want him as much as it's possible to want another person.

O — Oral Fixation (Giving or recieving? And how good are they?)

Absolutely a giver. He's incredible at it and he knows it.

And he's a terrible, terrible tease about it.

Taking you to the edge, making your thighs tremble...and then pulling away to brush his lips to your thighs and give you a cheeky grin.

"Oh, not yet, love. I love hearing you beg for it."

Keeping you on the edge until you're begging to come in complete and utter desperation before he finally lets you.

And then he isn't going to stop until you're begging him to.

He loves recieving just as much.

Really loves it when you pull him down an empty alley and get on your knees.Curling his fingers in your hair, groaning quietly and praising you endlessly.

His breath shaking as he resists the urge to thrust his hips forward and fuck your throat, wanting to enjoy the slow build-up.

"That's it, sweetheart. Look at me. I want to see those pretty eyes while you suck my cock."

P — Pet Peeves (Things they don't like in a partner)

Taking things too seriously. He's always joking around and having a good time, and all he wants is for you to do the same.

The silent treatment. It drives him absolutely insane. Just talk to him if there's something wrong, he wants to fix it.

Flirting with other men to make him jealous. Just don't. It's the one thing that truly gets under his skin, that could actually get him honestly angry with you.

Q — Quiet Time (How much alone time do they need, or do they want to be with you 24/7?)

Gives you your distance if you need it, but he does so begrudgingly.

He knows life is short—he got his arm bit off by a giant sea monster, for gods' sake—and he wants to spend as much time as he can with you.

Whether you're out having fun, fighting alongside each other, or curled up together in a hammock sharing a bottle of rum and enjoying a lazy afternoon.

He loves being with you, and he'll take any excuse he can get.

R — Romance (How romantic are they? Do they have to force it or does it come natural?)

Shanks's version of romance isn't fancy dinners and extravagant date nights.

It's lying on a beach watching the sunset with you.

Pushing you into the water and diving in after you, kissing you while you're both sopping wet.

Making love under a full moon.

Telling you every opportunity he gets how much he adores you.

"You know you're my greatest treasure, don't you, sweetheart?"

It's hard not to know when he tells you at least three times a day.

But the way he looks into your eyes when he says it still manages to melt your heart every time.

S — Spending Money (How much do they like to spend on you?)

Shanks isn't really much for materialism or consumerism.

You'll have to tell him if there's something you want, and he's not going to have any oroblem with getting it for you.

Every so often, something is going to catch his eye at some market in a port town.

Something that reminds him of you or that he thinks you'll like.

And he'll buy it without hesitation and give it to you with a big, goofy grin the second he sees you.

It's not all the time, but it makes it that much more special when it does happen.

T — Trust (Are they trusting of you? Jealous?)

He absolutely trusts you—that's how love is supposed to work.

But he can get a little jealous.

You wouldn't know it from the way he carries himself and jokes about it, but he does get a little insecure about missing an entire limb.

This can lead to him getting a little defensive and possessive if other men approach you—he's going to make sure it's known that you're his lover, and he'll always fight for you.

U — Underwear (What kind do they wear, and what kind do they like on you?)

Loose-fitting boxers are more comfortable.

He doesn't care what kind of underwear you wear, as long as it comes off easily.

And if you whisper in his ear that you're *not* wearing any?

You'd best buckle up, because he's putting you over his shoulder and carrying you off to the nearest private, or even semi-private location he can find to take advantage of this information.

V — Vulnerable (How vulnerable are they with you? Is it easy for them to open up to you?)

He is one hundred percent an open book with you.

You know everything about him. His life, his secrets, his aspirations.

He doesn't want anything to ever come up that could frighten you off, so he lays everything on the table surprisingly quickly.

W — Wine and Dine (Do they prefer meals at home or going out with you? Who does more of the cooking?)

He would much rather cook, preferably with you. He's not the best at it, but he's not awful either, given that he's had to be self-sufficient for a good bit of his life.

And if you're good at it, he's not to proud to take advice.

Any time spent with you is a wonderful time to him.

If you go out, it's probably going to be street food or tavern fare—fancy restaurants aren't his forte, and he's frankly not sure he would even have anything appropriate to wear.

X — X-Rated (How good are they in bed? What do they like?)

Hopefully you like being teased literally to the edge of sanity.

Major kink for edging you, making you beg for it.

And dear sweet fuck, is he good at it.

Whispering all the things he's going to do to you throughout the course of the day.

Pulling you down an alley or into a broom closet, pinning you to the wall and teasing you through your panties, stopping just short of letting you cum.

Subtle glances and touches.

He *loves* seeing you writhing in his bed, desperate for his touch while he kisses your neck, just trailing his fingertips up and down your inner thigh.

Holding you down by your hips so you can't even grind against him.

"Such an eager little thing. Just be patient, princess. You're going to get what you want."

Kissing down your breasts, taking time to stop and tease your nipples.

Pushing your thighs apart with his knees so he can circle a finger around your entrance, chuckling a little at your moans and whimpers before finally pushing it in.

Sitting up on his knees to watch you arch your hips, rubbing against your g-spot just long enough to get you gasping.

Pulling his finger back out and slowly circling it around your clit instead, before shifting back between your thighs and giving the sensitive bud a few teasing licks, watching you shiver in anticipation.

Keeping it slow and sensual, enjoying every second of being between your thighs, building your pleasure at a slow and steady pace that drives you crazy.

Holding onto your hip keep you from grinding against his tongue.

Pulling back the second you crest toward orgasm, chuckling at your whimpering and begging as he trails his lips across your inner thigh.

"You're just so adorable when you're desperate for it."

Keeping it going for what feels like hours, before finally tugging you in close and not relenting until you're trembling and falling apart beneath him.

Feeling you throbbing under his tongue and tighten up around his fingers is like a high for him.

Not stopping until your body goes limp and the only sounds you can make are a few little whimpers.

Soft, tender kisses amd whispered praises at your neck and lips and shoulders, his fingers combing through your hair, letting you recover for just a minute, even though he's aching for you.

Grinding his cock against your wet folds a few times before sliding slowly into you, groaning quietly in your ear.

"Oh, fuck, you're tight, love..."

Absolutely savors every second of being inside you, moving in long slow strokes, brushing his thumb across your cheek while he kisses you.

If you ask for it harder, he's going to give it to you—he's done with teasing you now. This is about you now, about what his princess wants.

And if you want it rough, then you're coming out of it with your neck and chest half-covered in hickies, and he's not stopping until he's sure you won't be able to walk tomorrow morning.

Holding back just long enough so you can climax at the same time, grunting out a quiet swear and pulling your hips flush against his to come deep inside you.

Slow, deep kisses while you both catch your breath and come down.

But don't be surprised if he's gearing up for another round soon. He really can never get enough of you.

Y — Yearning (How long will they pursue the person they're interested in before losing interest?)

It depends. If it's purely lust based, he's not going to pursue it very long and just move on.

If the feelings run deeper, though, he's absolutely shameless about it.

Relentless flirting and corny pick-up lines.

"Pardon me miss—do you have a map? It seems I've gotten lost in your eyes and I can’t find my way out."

Will absolutely get on his knees and beg you to give him a chance if he has to.

Puppy dog eyes in full effect.

It's pretty much pointless trying to resist.

Z — Zen (What do they do to wind down and relax? Do they prefer to do it alone or with you?)

A bottle of rum, a hammock stretched between a couple palm trees on some remote beach only he knows about, and his arm curled around you while you lie back against his chest.

Kissing your temple and playing with your hair.

He's always more relaxed when he has you with him.

[potatomountain]

Alien In My Living Room

Pairing: Alien!Hongjoong x fem reader x neighbor Cowboy! San Summary: After inheriting your farm it's been a struggle- not as much as the alien that crashed there and has been a little menace for some time. A big enough menace your neighbor (and crush) come over at the wrong time- or maybe the right time. WC: 4k AU: cowboy vs alien! hentai Genre: pwp, scifi Warning(s): 18+ rating, eggpreg, breeding kink, tentacles, weird bodily anomalies. rainbowish cum, restraints, some slight predator/prey dynamics if you squint. threesome. double penetration, anal (male/female receiving) Betas: @bunnliix ~ @adelusionforyourthoughts ~ @yourfatherlucifer AN: Happy birthday to the LOML Kim Hongjoong! And also a happy birthday to one of my favorite fanfic writers @sanjoongie !! You can probably guess what bits were thrown in just for you! ps: I kinda got the idea from the song "Llama in my Living Room" by AronChupa! dividers and Banner by me! Ageless blogs that interact with this piece, even a like, will be blocked INSTANTLY, no exceptions.

Main Masterlist

The worst part of being a city girl from a farm was when the farm became yours. Still a year into owning and living back on your family’s farm and you still had no idea what to do with all the land. Your neighbors handled the last harvest, and you debated selling more of the land to them and mostly keeping the ranch house. Of course you knew how to take care of the land, you grew up doing so, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to spend your adult life doing it either.

But that hadn’t been a problem for the last couple of months. Instead your biggest concern was what the fuck you were going to do about the Alien that had taken up residence on your land. He looked human enough, but not at first. His pretty face didn’t erase the being you knew was under there, more limbs than torso, the translucent pink his hair currently was. How he had molded into a man that looked like one of the idols on your posters was beyond you. Though you supposed it wasn’t a complete transformation, as you learned the one time you saw him shirtless. If you ignored that, he was pretty to look at.

But he was also annoying.

“Are you ever going to fix your stupid ship and get out of here?” You snapped out, swiveling in your desk chair to glare at the being who was currently harassing your cat, again. Why your cat stood for it and didn’t hiss was beyond you, weren’t they good predators? Salem managed to slip out of Hongjoong’s hands, running for one of the many hidey holes he had around your home. Hongjoong looked up from the floor with wide blue eyes, the stars themselves shining in his irises. “I thought you liked having me around here?” “You’re terrorizing my adorable kitten and you’re out there at ungodly hours banging and causing a ruckus! Why would I like that?” You huffed out again, crossing your arms over your chest. “And for a creature that doesn’t eat, you sure like to eat all my food!” “I’m sorry- I need energy and I can’t get it my usual ways.” He protested, crawling over to you in such a clumsy way you wondered how this could be a being capable of space travel.

You frowned, lifting your leg to press your heel into his shoulder and stop him from getting too close. “What do you mean- that sounds awfully sus.” “Sus?” “Suspicious. Jesus, you managed to learn how to blend in so well but you can’t manage the lingo?” You rolled your eyes, still unsure how he managed to adapt so effortlessly. He never gave you an explanation, just transformed fully into this and within a few days he was talking like he had lived on earth his whole life- minus missing many social cues. “Anyways, I thought you didn’t need to eat so why do you need the extra energy now?” Hongjoong was still pressing forward, something different in his eyes that made you apprehensive. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked the question. 

The sudden appearance of one of his nearly translucent tentacles sliding up your leg sent off warning bells in your head. It pushed up the fabric of your sweatpants, leaving behind a little bit of slick that darkened the light gray fabric. Was it supposed to be wet? “I need the extra energy to produce and lay my eggs… you’re really warm actually.” The words came out like a lustful purr, furthering your panic. Quickly you slapped the tentacle aside, watching him wince as you stood up and put distance between you. “Sorry for asking, this is super interesting stuff but I uh- gotta go catch my fridge.” You mentally slapped yourself for the stupid excuse, but hoped he would buy it as you rushed out of your office.

He hadn’t been flirting with you had he? Hadn’t implied to fuck his eggs into you… that’s what you told yourself. Yet the idea was now in your head, as was the question if he even had a dick or would he use-

The train of thought had your body reacting, which just concerned you even more. He was an alien! Why couldn’t you have dirty thoughts about your neighbor instead? The mental reminder of the cowboy next door just had your cheeks even more heated, slapping them in an attempt to control yourself. Why were you suddenly so damn horny? You really needed the fresh air, booking it towards your kitchen and back patio.

However, you didn’t make it through the living room before you were tackled to the couch, bent over the arm and face in the cushions. You hadn’t even heard him following you, but now you could feel him pressing down against your back, his heavy pants so obvious as he leaned over your body close enough you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. “Sorry Star, but you ran away smelling so good. Humans like consent, right?” He sounded quite worked up, touching you in several ways that was making your mind fuzzy with heat. His hands pushed up your shirt, but there were several tentacles touching your skin. They were warm and slick, slithering over your flesh.

You realized you enjoyed how they felt, skin feeling hotter where the slick remained, almost sensitive. “W-we do. Hongjoong, what do you normally do with your eggs?” “Incubator on ship…” He panted out, his hands now pinning your arms to the cushion above you. “It broke when I crashed, don’t have the parts to fix it. Keep them safe until I return home to gift… but I can't wait.”

Biting down on your lip as the tips of his tentacles rubbed at your nipples under your bra- which you don’t remember getting pushed up - you tried to turn your head to look at him, just to have your breath catching in your throat at his needy expression. You could really see the stars in the blue of his eyes, no white in sight. His tongue lulled out, the same translucent pastels as the tentacles roaming your body. He was losing his human visage, but in the slightest ways, even the pale pink of his hair seemed almost otherworldly with how it fell in his face.

You should tell him off, knowing that the pleading look he gave you was your consent. As annoying as the creature was, he was not unbearable or disrespectful, changing any errors he made to suit your tastes. It was that knowledge that had you caving in. Within seconds of your nod your clothes were gone, bra and panties in particular ripped off you as you were put in such a lewd position but you couldn’t find the time to feel ashamed. Not when the warm slick of one of his appendages was rubbing between your slick folds, teasing you, while the rest sought out sensitive bits and toyed with them. They sucked on your nipples, rubbing around your throat and adding pleasure that made your head spin. Hongjoong let out a particularly pornagraphic moan just behind you that just added to the haze you were beginning to drown in. “Oh you like that?” He chuckled before moaning louder, moaning your name, which had your body reacting. The shiver that coursed through you had your back arching in response, pushing your behinds back against him. You wanted more.

He happily gave you more, pushing the tentacle into you with an inhuman cry of his own. It almost sounded eerie, probably did, but you lust-addled mind didn’t register at such. It did register another male calling your name in a panic, and your kitchen door slamming open. 

You looked up in time to see your friendly neighbor, once childhood friend, standing in the archway of your living room, beautiful sun kissed skin almost pale from the shock that the visage of Hongjoong probably presented. There were at least four tentacles on your body at the moment, and you couldn’t see how many more he had out, but enough to really shock the muscle man as he passed out, falling to the ground.

“San?” You attempted to pull away from Hongjoong, concerned for the man that laid on your wooden floor. His cowboy hat had fallen off, a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead and skin exposed under the vest. You were a lot less concerned than you should be, instead finding him quite delectable, almost like you wanted to jump onto his cock. The harsh way Hongjoong shoved his tentacle deeper into your cunt distracted you from those thoughts. “Pay attention to me Star, I’m the one fucking you.” He growled out, his hold on you tightening all over possessively. Gone was the needy being from a moment ago, Hongjoong was now completely in charge with the way you were lifted up off the couch and displayed in the air. He turned you to watch him, his own clothes coming off. He still had the shape of a human, even a cock you noticed, but the colors of his tentacles now moved over his skin like a work of art.

It was hypnotizing. “Hongjoong~” You whined out, glancing down as best you could to take in the sight of just how he was fucking you. Like straight out of a hentail, the sensations were almost too much.

It was his thumb on your clit that drove you over the edge, rubbing it in perfect stimulating circles that you cried out, creaming all over the slimy tendril. Hongjoong’s head rolled back, his body practically vibrating and you wondered how good it must feel to him for him to look so blissed out.

You didn’t get a chance to ask, falling to the couch the next second as Hongjoong was tackled to the floor by your neighbor. In the struggle he had let go of you completely, the wind knocked out of you from your fall, but some sense knocked into you as well. Still catching your breath you scrambled up, unsure just where to insert yourself in the mess of limbs flying about. “San! Hongjoong! Stop it!” You couldn’t really blame San for freaking out, since Hongjoong was an alien just casually in your living room. Casually fucking you, but making sounds that could be misconstrued.

San halted his fist, sitting on top of the being that had most of his other limbs restrained with his own. “But Miss he-” “He’s a friend San, alien or not.” You huffed out, bending down next to them and fixing Hongjoong with a stare. “And you won’t harm him either.” “But you were thinking about him fucking you! While I was inside you, it’s not fair!” He actually pouted, which was almost funny.

You were too embarrassed to laugh, San turning his attention to you. How could you not want to fuck him though? Toned cowboy, a real gentleman that had been helping you with the farm- even now in dusty jeans and a leather vest, hair tossled from when his hat fell off, he was fine as fuck. “Have you really not been noticing the way I eye fuck you when I ask your help for any manual labor?” “I… didn’t want to get my hopes up-” San mumbled out, just to get flipped over suddenly, Hongjoong holding him down. “Hey!!” “She’s mine human- back off!” “Like hell I will. You don’t have a claim on her.” “I was in the middle of that when you so rudely interrupted.” As if to show off, he moved one tentacle over to you, wrapping around your bare thigh and then the tip shoved itself back into your cunt. Instantly you moaned out, head falling back as it pushed deep. “Think you can fuck her like this?” San was pouty as he watched, but the lust there was unmistakable. “You have a lot to fuck her with. That doesn’t mean shit- is that a fucking egg.” San screeched out, both of you watching a small round object move through the tube-like appendage. You could feel it as it moved along your thigh, heart racing with panic. You tried to grab at it, stop him, but he had your arms pinned at your sides. The stars in his eyes swirled with chaos, striking you with a bit of fear.

Fear that melted away as you were stretched out more than you thought possible, the egg shooting up into you and pushed into your womb. It was intense, head falling back as you cried out, shaking from the sensation.

“Oh my God-” San was in awe at your sight, which drew your attention even through the haze. You wanted to slump forward, instead you couldn’t tear your eyes away as cum shot out of Hongjoong’s pink cock onto San, covering him in what looked like melted pearls. “Fuck-” San winced as a splatter got on his cheek, but Hongjoong wasn’t paying attention to either of you.

For what seemed like an eternity, both you and San couldn’t tear your eyes away from the alien. His tendrils trembled from the aftershocks of his climax, his hands moving up his body and twisting his own pink nipples while there was a soft glow behind his closed eyes.

You did notice that Hongjoong was no longer holding San down, just sitting on his thighs and tilted back in pure bliss. San could’ve easily pushed him off, in fact you had no idea why he didn’t. Was he just as enamored with the alien as you were?

The shifting between your legs reminded you that you were still impaled on the alien tentacle, though now he was pulling out. In a moment of panic you tried to grab at it, whining because you didn’t want to be left empty.

But even as it was pulled out, you didn’t feel empty though, the egg inside a weighted reminder that you were being bred. Collapsing forward on your palms not that you were let go, you panted out. “J-Joongie~ Please give me more.” You whined, needing more, and that was all you could think about in your hazy state. Hongjoong murmured something in a language you didn’t understand- what you recognized as his own language- as he slipped off of San and practically ignored you. So you whined again, reaching out for him.

“Are you just going to ignore her?” San scoffed, pushing himself up onto his elbows now that he was mostly free.

Hongjoong shook his head, most of his extra limbs retracting. “Your turn.”

“My turn?” San screeched out just as you let out a loud noise of confusion. You were getting really hot now.

In a flash, San's clothes were just gone, exposing his own thick and throbbing cock standing at attention. Your eyes zeroed in, spit building up in your mouth as the need for Hongjoong shifted to San and his throbbing member. Hongjoong giggled breathlessly, motioning with his fingers to the two of you. “Fuck. Fertilize. Next egg is prepping.” He rubbed his lower stomach now, a tiny bulge there that you noticed finally.

The eagerness to be filled with another egg had you crawling over to San and straddling his lap.

“Hey hey wait- sweetheart just think- fuck~!” San’s protests were cut off as you impaled yourself down on his cock, all fight leaving him as he grabbed your sides. “Fuck I think I can feel it. It’s hot. You’re throbbing… sweetheart I-” “Shut up and just fuck me San. Don’t tell me you didn’t think about it before.” Sliding a hand up through his hair, you tugged at it to get his full attention. “Or did you wear such a slutty outfit just for the hell of it and not to get me staring?” He swallowed hard, heat darkening his features and a bashful pout on his features. “But not like this.” He didn’t deny, and for you that was enough reason to roll your hips and feel him move inside you. He was harder than the tentacles, but just as deep that he probably could feel that large egg sitting in your womb. “Sweetheart please.” 

“Would you prefer to carry my eggs?” Hongjoong moved to sit beside you both, staring at the spot of cum that had dried on San’s sharp cheek. “Because I can arrange that.” Neither of you answered, both instead groaning at the thought, picturing San’s taunt stomach bulged out with the tentacles or eggs or both. Hongjoong laughed at your thoughts, at least it seemed so with the knowing smirk on his lips. “I could just fuck you both that way.”

You were on your back the next second, legs pushed up by San’s thighs and both of your behinds exposed to the warm air of your home. He seemed just as surprised as you were, only for his confusion to melt away, brows furrowed as he looked down between you. Your slightly swollen stomach was a sight to see pressed against his lower abdomen- hell he was a sight to behold just hunched over you and trapping you in with your legs and his wide shoulders. There was a slap, San lurching forward with a yelp that quickly turned into a groan, leading to control snapping and he was finally giving you what you wanted. “Sorry Sweetheart~” He drawled out, rough hands from years of farm work holding your hips still as he slammed his cock into you at an even rougher pace.

You didn’t care one bit, head falling back and just taking what he was giving you. It felt like a heavy haze of lust was encompassing you again, moans spilling from your lips as all you could do was lay there and get bred. Not that you minded at all.

Greedily you grabbed onto San’s shoulders, nails digging in as he bent forward more to rest his forehead on your shoulder. The soft grunts and whispers of your name and the dozens of different names of endearment he had for you falling from your lips. His breath felt hot on your skin, but nothing beat the pulsating heat from your womb.

Not even the slick intrusion in your rear, which by San’s reaction, he had a similar intrusion. “Fucking hell- my ass!” He twisted enough to growl at the alien that refused to be forgotten, just to let out a higher pitched moan than he was moments ago. It almost matched yours, the double penetration of his cock and now one of Hongjoong’s slimy tentacles pushing up inside, made everything almost impossibly tight.

For you and San. “What, don’t like it?” Hongjoong mused, thrusting the tendrils in and pushing you both across the floor a bit. “Do I need to do the fucking as well.” With an annoyed hiss, San turned back to you, a challenge in his eyes that ended up matched by his dimpled smirk. “Seems like he got lonely, doesn’t it sweetheart?” You nodded, eyes rolling back at how deep both your holes were currently filled. “D-don’t mind. Come on Sannie baby, fill me up. He wants it so bad~ give it to me please.” With how tightly you two were pressed together you managed to grab his firm butt cheeks, loving how they tensed as your nails dug in deep. 

He hissed again, then picked up pace that put his earlier one to shame. Now cries and screams fell from your lips, the wood beneath your back a harsh reminder of where you were but with both of them fucking you at such an animalistic pace you couldn’t even think.

Even when you came you could hardly tell when it started or passed, just trembling beneath them and holding on for your dear life. 

Hongjoong was just in sight to the side of you both, stroking his pink cock in sync with the tendrils he was fucking you both with. You were well aware when San started spilling his seed into you, his cry matched by an almost overwhelming heat between your legs as he filled you up deep. The egg pulsated in your womb, just absorbing what San was giving you, satisfying you in ways you didn’t know you needed.

The alien stilled himself inside you both, no eggs pushed in but his pretty pearlescent cum splattered on the side of both San and yours faces. The second it seemed to touch your skin the haze in your mind seemed to thicken. It would have you suspicious if you didn’t feel so damned content and peaceful.

In fact, so content and peaceful that the next time you were actively aware of your body and mind you were sitting on the couch, cleaned up and curled against San’s side. The man was once more wearing pants, a blanket was wrapped around you, and Hongjoong was sitting on the coffee table passing for a regular human almost.

The two were chatting, and you couldn’t really make out what was said until Hongjoong caught your attention with the phrase “I thought I’d never get you two to breed.” You sat up, frowning a bit. “What the fuck do you mean by that?” By the sudden panic on his face, you guessed he hadn’t realized he said it. “Well- uh- I mean you’ve been thinking about sleeping with him since I got here!” While it wasn’t a lie, you shifted to get up and interrogate him more. 

Both Hongjoong and San stopped you, hands on your swollen and heated stomach. Right, they had literally just bred you…. Convenient that San had stopped over when he did. “Sannie, why did you stop over today?” “The last few weeks there were usually weird sounds coming from your field around this time so I thought I could come over and ask you about it.” The sweet man was staring at your stomach, much more calm about this situation than he had been earlier.

Even you felt more calm, which was alarming by itself. You don’t remember any sounds around this time, but it was also the time of day that Hongjoong would be in the barn working on fixing his ship. Today he insisted on bothering your cat Salem though… it clicked. Slowly you turned to the inhuman being who looked to be perspiring oil down his neck. “Hongjoong… did you plan this from the beginning?”

San joined you in staring the nervous alien down, which considering what had just transpire was an ironic turn of events. “Now that you mention it… it is odd. When he was touching me I just got so damned horny too.”

“Same actually… think it’s some alien trick?”

“Maybe the slime?”

“Hmm maybe… fucking hell we’re talking about this like it’s the weather. What the hell did you do Hongjoong?” You snapped out, hissing at the creature.

He couldn’t meet your eyes, but his explanation came out like word-vomit. How his ship was technically fixed weeks ago, his incubator was fine, but he couldn’t leave like that. It took both you and San to pull it out of him. “Because I maybe, accidentally, imprinted on you both… now I’ll get sick if I’m away from you two for too long… Might have made sure it’s the same for you both now…” He pointed to your stomach, really solidifying what you had done.

San and you both scoffed, then shared a nonchalant look. Despite the daunting situation, there was a big part of you that you didn’t think would have minded even without the added imprint or whatever Alien thing Hongjoong had going on. It seemed the same for him. Still, you both grinned, then laughed. “Ha. Aliens.”

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[hometoursandotherstuff]

I don't know about this 1931 home in Rancho Palas Verdes, CA. 5bds, 5ba, 4,040 sq ft, asking $2.5m. But, look at this:

The listing says: ***Recent conditions have changed and land movement has swept through much of the area. The owner has fought back, having "helical" piers recently installed. The piers appear to be working and the house shows very few affects of the movement. As further insurance to save the home for posterity, engineering plans have been developed for putting the home on steel beams and are available to use should the piers not suffice. The home is offered for a fraction of its pre-movement value. So, does the new owner have to pay for these steel beams? Take a look inside.

Entrance foyer. It's been in the same family for 60 yrs., and now they're selling it "at a fraction" of it's worth. How much would it be?

I don't know what to think about this. The sitting room has a great fireplace, some built-ins, but they painted the wood paneling white.

Here's a hall with doors to the garden and a skylight ceiling.

Large home office with a great garden view and doors to the patio.

Family room with glass walls and patio access.

I don't know, the house looks like it needs a refresh, in addition to the steel beams. The dining room is very large and has doors to both patios.

It's cute that you enter the kitchen thru an opening in the cabinetry, like a little archway. It looks like every room has doors to the patio that surrounds the house. This is a no-nonsense kitchen with professional appliances.

Entrance to the primary bedroom.

It has a nice fireplace, and those doors to the patio.

Then in the bath, there's a newer shower and a vintage tub. From the tub you can see the ditch outside.

So many doors in this place. I guess b/c they've been digging trenches or the earth's been shifting, the house needs a power wash.

Looks like this bedroom is reached by those stairs. The bed appears to be blocking doors to a closet or something.

This oddly shifting lot measures 1.14 acres.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/85-Vanderlip-Dr-Rancho-Palos-Verdes-CA-90275/21356627_zpid/

[ghouljams]

HI HELLO I LOVE UR SCP CONTENT

i feel like Anomalous Item 061 (the goose that puts out fires) would be great to have on hand bc of Soap lmao. I'd be curious to see what would happen if any of them where exposed to SCP-053 or SCP-999. I feel like Ghost would benefit from it like SCP-682. Either way, i love ur work!

Oh I was waiting for someone to ask about SCP-053 and 682...

Testing Log, SCP-053:

Subject: SCP-141-D "Ghost" Researcher Note: After his incident with Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛, as well as interactions SCP-2107, secondary anomaly testing is needed. Let's see what this bad boy can take. Results: SCP-141-D exposed to SCP-141 and placed in SHA containment unit with SCP-053. 141-D stands in far corner of room away from 053 for requisite 10 minutes, immobile. 053 is playing with blocks, appears unbothered by 141-D. Man I get why the other researchers think this guy is boring. Oh no wait. Ok. 141-D is moving towards 053. Things are about to get bloody let's see it! 141-D is crouching down and- ugh. He's pointing out blocks to 053. 141-D appears to be in some sort of distress, but is quietly playing with 053. Alright somebody get this guy out of there. Waste of my fucking time. A young girl's voice is distantly heard on the recording, "Not supposed to be here." Followed by an older male voice, "I know." SCP-141-D removed from SHA containment unit and placed back in his room.

Notes:

Don't you ever put me in a room with that girl again. - 141-D

-

Testing Log, SCP-053

Subject: SCP-141-A "John Price" Researcher Note: Memetic anomaly might cancel out 053's and worst case we won't have to replace our tech anymore. Results: SCP-141-A exposed to SCP-141 and placed in SHA containment unit with SCP-053. SCP-141-A is advised to avoid eye contact and touch with 053, as well as being advised to request an end to the experiment after 10 minutes should he become violent. After agreeing to term, 141-A spends three of his ten minutes watching 053 color. After five minutes 053 finishes coloring and takes the drawing over to 141-A to be inspected. SCP-141-A: Is that Ghost? SCP-053 nods SCP-141-A: That's rather good, he'll like that. At minute four SCP-141-A breaks containment procedures and picks up SCP-053. There is a prolonged pause as 141-A tightens his grip on 053, before carrying her back to the coloring table. He sets her down and crouches beside her. Notably he does not touch her again for the remaining five minutes of exposure. SCP-141-A: Would you do something for me love? It's very easy, I'll tell you exactly what to do. SCP-053 stares at him, and picks out a red crayon. SCP-053: Okay. SCP-141-A: Good girl. I need you to-

[tape corrupted]

Research Note:

God dammit someone call IT. We need a new tower.

-

Testing Log, SCP-682

Subject: SCP-141-D "Ghost" Researcher Notes: Ok now let's see what he can do. Results: SCP-141-D exposed to SCP-141 and placed inside cell with SCP-682. SCP-141-D appears to regard 682 with interest. SCP-141-D: Fuck you're one ugly bastard. SCP-682: Disgusting... SCP-141-D: Be'er than you, wha's all that, hydrochloric? Soap'd 'ave a field day with that. SCP-682: You and the whore. SCP-141-D hums with a smile. I think that's a smile, hard to tell with the mask. SCP-682 catches SCP-141-D with its claw, before turning and batting him away with its tail. SCP-141-D sustains multiple inturies catalogued here for posterity: -incomplete decapitation -crush injuries to chest -disembowelment -multiple lacerations over arms and chest SCP-141-D is removed from containment unit. SCP-682 recontained. Upon recommendation from SCP-141-A "John Price" SCP-141-D is placed in containment unit with SCP-141-B "Gaz."

Testing Log, SCP-141-B [pending redaction]:

SCP-141-D is placed in room with SCP-141-B, both subjects have been exposed to SCP-141. SCP-141-D is unconscious at time of testing having sustained multiple injuries from SCP-682. SCP-141-B assesses sustained injuries and requests supplies from on-hand staff. 141-B is provided with a basic first aid kit. SCP-141-B removes bandages and suture kit from supplied box and begins field dressing SCP-141-D's wounds. Bowels are placed back in stomach cavity, and pressure is applied to decapitation wound before both are stitched with standard suture stitching. SCP-141-B demonstrates advanced medical knowledge including ability to reinflate collapsed lung in SCP-141-D, at which point SCP-141-D regains consciousness. SCP-141-D is able to direct aid in limited capacity and inform SCP-141-B that his stitching is "better than Soap's" but still "stings like a bitch." SCP-141-D is removed after completion of first aid, and taken to be examined by SCP medical staff. SCP-141-B is removed and taken back to containment for questioning.

Interview Log, SCP-141-B "Gaz" [pending redaction]:

SCP-141-B: He's getting a doctor, right? Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: Of course. SCP-141-B: Bloody hell. SCP-141-B drags a hand down his face. SCP-141-B: The fuck are you lot doin' to him? I thought you were supposed to be scientists. Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: We are. We learned a lot from this. SCP-141-B: Learned a- You might've killer him if I hadn't been here! Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: He survived, didn't he? SCP-141-B: And what if he didn't? SCP-141-B advances on research staff, openly hostile. SCP-141-B: If you think the Captain is going to let you get away with this- Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: You Captain is the only reason you're here. SCP-141-B holds Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛'s gaze, both glaring at the other. He crosses his arms over his chest and takes a step back. Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: Now, your proficiency with field dressings. Have you needed to resuscitate "Ghost" before? SCP-141-B refuses to answer questions for the next 15 minutes, at which time Dr. ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ leaves containment to avoid memetic poisoning. SCP-141-B is escorted back to containment.

Doctor's Notes, SCP-141-D:

⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ "Ghost" ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ Race: White Sex: Male Age: ⬛⬛ Weight: ⬛⬛⬛ Kg Height: ⬛⬛⬛ cm Blood Tests: Normal Stress Test: Normal Reported Injuries: Scarring and bruising on chest indicate recently healed blunt force trauma and lacerations. Shallow lesions around circumference of neck reminiscent of choking via garrote or some other aid. Scarring and reported sensitivity around midsection. X-rays reveal previously broken ribs. Internal structures show no abnormalities. Skin shows minor abrasions in line with healed burn injuries. Psychological Tests: N/A

[sgiandubh]

Hi! 

Fitness Anon here…

Just had to run a few errands this morning and there I spotted him - I will call him ‘local S’. Whoever he is, is not really important at all. It is about the perception - or the non-perception“ - of the  ‘rest of us’ towards him. 

He is an actor who lives in our neighborhood with his family - played leading roles in some TV series in the last 20 years and also plays theatre frequently. I think he has the same level of recognition C and S may have in Scotland. 

The first time after moving here I met him at the post office. But with a toddler and a crying baby in tow I did not recognize him immediately. A few weeks later a friend of mine (who grew up here) and I went to a park with our kids and  ‘local S’ jogged past us. I asked my friend if he was the one I thought he was. She looked a little bit confused at first and then said: Yes, and he is living here since a few years! Nothing else - no chatting, no gossip - nothing. And that hasn't changed to this day.

‘Local S’ lives here and is part of our community. None of us would think of taking a photo of him waiting in the line at the local bakery or anywhere else. And we certainly wouldn't post anything on social media about seeing or meeting him. None of us are impressed when we meet him or ask him for a selfie. It's also not a bad thing that none of us here are interested in 5 minutes of Instagram fame.

In the situations where I meet him, I never realise him as an actor and semi-famous. Because his every day appearance is completely different from his TV roles. In his most well-known TV role, he had to wear an unusual costume like Sam. So when you see hin in his normal attire, he looks totally different.  

I meet him in normal everyday situations, just as I do with many other people. This could be one of the reasons why we don't consider the ‘local S’ to be famous. Meeting him in a jogging suit, sweating and buying rolls has nothing glamorous at all. The other reason is probably that he doesn't appear to be recognised as someone famous. He lives a completely low-key everyday life. Sometimes he is featured in the relevant magazines to promote his TV roles. As far as I'm aware he hardly talks about his life at home there, only about his projects.

What I have just described probably also widely corresponds to Sam's (and C's) life in Scotland. They are known in their community and neighborhood. However, it is not considered that an appearance of them is a sensation. They are part of the everyday life there, just as ‘local S’ is part of my everyday life. And that is not glamorous or exciting - neither in Scotland nor anywhere else in Europe or in the world. That's why probably little or nothing is known about their everyday lives at all. 

Dear (returning) Fitness Anon,

EVERY SINGLE WORD OF WHAT YOU WROTE. And then, some more.

While living in Paris, I spotted (not necessarily in that order):

a) Kristin Scott Thomas, at the (now defunct) posh, Waitrose French wannabe, INNO supermarket, in Montparnasse. Her caddy chock-a- block full with Tŷ Nant Welsh spring water (very classy cobalt blue bottle and a novelty, in 1997). Now, The English Patient is easily in my top 5 movies. I chuckled in my Barbour and quickly busied myself with paying and getting out of that store ASAP. Everybody knew who she was - TEP's movie posters were all over town and in each and every métro station. Nobody flinched.

b) Daniel Auteuil, one of my favorite French actors. Formidable in Patrice Chéreau's La Reine Margot (and pretty much everything else), insane chemistry with the beautiful Isabelle Adjani. He was hailing a taxi, somewhere near Avenue de la Motte-Picquet, steps away from my flat, circa 2001. I grinned like an idiot and passed my way.

c) Catherine Deneuve, The Legend. I already wrote about it, a while ago. We were in line, at the movies, I (loudly) betted it was her and she smiled. That's all. And that is all it should be.

About my Greek experiences, I have written here, by the way: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/748463393458061312/im-interested-to-know-whether-you-came-to-enjoy?source=share . Even in a warm, expansive Southern European country nobody gave a flying duck, ever. Just humorously mentioned seeing them having coffee around town, while gossiping, Nothing more.

You'd have to be overly obsessed and/or really parochial to think people who live in the same neighborhood with actors, business tycoons or politicians would ever give a damn about it, every single time they spot those people somewhere.

[davidlcki]

payment

pairing:low honor! arthur x reader

warnings: cursing, arthur is mean, being forced to drink, age gap, game typical violence. i think that’s it

summary: your parents take a loan from strauss, and when they can’t afford it, they send you off as payment instead. it’s a 3 day journey back to the van der linde camp. will you turn the notorious gunslinger soft?

an: please let me know how you guys feel about this one! i’ve been dealing with severe writers block so this took me MONTHS to write. it might not be my best, but i’m just happy to get something out. enjoy, i love you all! ❤️

words: 5,562 (my longest yet i think)

part 2

shouting from downstairs violently ripped you from your deep sleep, and quickly, you hopped out of bed. your hands shook as you slowly opened your door and made your way to the top of the steps.

“the money. NOW.”

you flinched at the harshness of the man’s words. instantly you knew it was the debt collectors, and that your family had nowhere near the amount needed to pay it off. you listened to your mother and father plead with the man for another week, but he wasn’t having it. at the sound of a gun cocking, your legs began to move on their own. you were bolting down the stairs.

“STOP! please, please don’t hurt them!” you hold your hands out desperately, standing between the man and your parents, who were dead silent. the man paused, the anger in his features seemed to be replaced with amusement. this was the moment that you recognized who this man was. you had seen him in many bounty posters around strawberry, he was arthur morgan.

“well now, why didn’t ya tell me about this fine young lady?” arthur’s gaze drifted from you to your parents, who were looking at each other with a look you couldn’t read. nervously, you looked between your parents and arthur. why weren’t they saying anything?

“she’ll do as payment just fine” arthur shrugs, holstering his gun and giving an easy smile, as if this was no big deal, just another day. you turned to your parents quickly, shaking your head and backing away from arthur.

“please don’t…” you looked between your mother and father desperately. finally, your father speaks.

“take her. if it works as payment, take her.” time seemed to slow as you stared at your father who wouldn’t look you in the eyes. your mother was looking down, you could tell she was holding back tears, but she stayed silent.

“what? wait, wait just-” you glanced at the door quickly, thinking of ways to escape. arthur, was quick to place his hand on his holstered gun.

“i wouldn’t, if i were you.” arthur’s voice was suddenly much lower, and his easy smile was gone in an instant. you knew there was no other way. you turned to your parents, lips in a flat line as you stared at them. you were thinking of what you could possibly say to them, when arthur’s rough hand had a grip on your upper arm.

“your own daughter…for some fucking cash…” your voice was shaky as you were being pulled towards the door. barely having time to slip your boots on, you give your parents one last look before you were out of sight.

for a while, it was silent. you were too in shock to cry or do much of anything, but think.

“we’ll camp here for the night” arthur’s voice startled you out of your thoughts, most of them being how to escape this situation. for now, he had at least some form of trust in you, considering your hands were untied.

arthur morgan was more of a myth than a person, to you. you heard the stories of the hundreds he’s killed and you knew this was probably a bad idea, but you needed to try an escape. once he hopped off his horse, you grabbed onto the reigns and kicked your heels into its sides, but it didn’t budge. the damned horse stayed dead still. the air seemed to thicken as you continued to attempt to get the horse to take off with a series of ‘hyah’s’ and ‘go’s’, but his horse was loyal, seeming to listen to him and only him. when you looked over, you swore you saw flames in arthur’s eyes.

plan b.

from the horse, you deliver a kick into arthur’s chest with all the power you could muster. just as his horse, he dosent budge. arthur lunges forwards, pulling you off the horse roughly and ignoring the protests coming from you as he threw you over his shoulder. you pounded relentlessly on his back, but he didn’t so much as flinch. instead, he tightened his grip on you, nearly squandering your ability to breathe. once finding a clearing about 30 feet into the woods, he throws you onto the grass and pulls out his lasso. you take a few seconds to catch your breath, but you don’t have time to move or get any words out. effortlessly, arthur ties the rope around your wrists and ankles before you could flip over, rendering you immobile.

“bastard! you let me go!” you finally manage to turn yourself onto your back and struggle against the rope that dug into your skin. arthur, clearly unamused at your shouting, sinks down to your level on the ground. his hips were nearly straddling yours as he kneeled and grabbed your face with a rough hand.

“watch it girl.” his voice was drawn out and easy, giving you the impression that he’s done this many times before. he releases his grip on your jaw, and brushes a strand of hair from your forehead. “don’t forget i know where you live. dont try nothin’, less you’re fixin’ to watch your parents die”.

“i don’t…. i don’t care about them anymore. they sold me. pawned me like trash.” your voice was shaky as you spoke up at him, and for a while the both of you sat and stared at each other, heavy breath fanning over your faces. arthur almost had a look of understanding for a moment. it was true. you were angry at them for so carelessly giving you away for their own benefit. in fact, you didn’t know who you were angrier at. arthur, or your own parents. finally, arthur hums and stands. you didn’t dare move from your spot on the ground, instead, you silently watched arthur set up camp. you really were afraid that he’d kill you if you so much as moved. you could see in his eyes that he was only going to let that trick you tried slide once.

you shivered and let out a ragged exhale, still catching your breath as the wind was knocked out of you not long ago. you were desperate for fire, for any kind of warmth. you were only in boots and a thin nightgown, that did much of nothing as the cold from the ground seeped into you.

“cold?” arthur stands next to your shivering frame on the ground. you say nothing, instead giving him an unamused glare. you refused to let him see you cry, so you threw on your best angry facade. you stiffened as he leaned down and lifted you, not letting out a breath of air until you were put down again. now, you were resting against a tree in front of the fire. you let out an inner sigh of relief at the warmth. arthur sits across from the fire, taking a bite of jerky from his satchel.

“so, that’s your parents farm huh? pretty nice, all considering.” arthur pauses, but you say nothing. “live there your whole life?” you didn’t even really hear his question as you asked your own.

“where are you takin’ me?” you watch arthur’s face carefully as he takes a drag from his cigarette.

“you’re joining the gang” arthur flicks the end of his cigarette, the ashes slowly float to the ground. “we need more hands. more people to help fight.”

“i’m no good at fighting” your voice was quiet, you were starting to realize you weren’t getting out of this.

“you will be. now,” arthur stands up and pulls more rope from his horses satchel “rest up, got a long day of riding tomorrow” you scoff as he begins to wrap the rope around you and the tree you were against.

“is this necessary?” arthur says nothing, instead pulling the rope tighter. after, he goes back to his spot, pulling his hat over his face and letting out a rather large sigh. for a long time, you didn’t sleep. instead, you relentlessly tugged and pulled at the rope restraining you. you knew it was pointless, but you couldn’t help trying. your face twisted in pain as your arms scratched against the rough tree bark. arthur must have been very confident in the knots he tied, because you very quickly heard soft snores drifting from across the fire. after what seemed like hours, and a few shed tears, you fell into a restless sleep.

•••

when you awoke the next morning, arthur was up, packing supplies into his horses satchel and humming to himself softly. you stayed silent, observing the man who was so mean to you do a task so mundane. when you looked down, you noticed arthur’s brown coat was thrown over your frame. it smelled like tobacco and gunpowder. when arthur noticed you were up, he quickly took his jacket back and went over to untie the rope holding you to the tree.

“morning sunshine” he throws you a smile as he pulls the rope from around the tree off, along with the rope on your ankles.

“i trust you won’t run”

“no” your voice was hoarse and you shivered violently as the wind attacked your bare skin that was previously covered. arthur stopped, thinking for a second as he took in your frame with a slow look from your head to your ankles and back up again. he pulls you to your feet, letting you catch your footing on wobbly legs as he rummaged around for his canteen. he flicks the cap off and grabs your jaw so roughly and suddenly that you let out an involuntary gasp of shock. he turns your face towards him and inspects you for a second before continuing. you could only wonder what he was thinking, his lip twitching ever so slightly into the ghost of a smile as he continued.

“drink” he puts the canteen to your mouth and watches as you desperately gulped down the water. after about 5 seconds, he pulled it away, taking a swig of the liquid himself before stowing it back on his horse.

“long ride ahead,” arthur lifts you onto his horse before hopping in front of you in the saddle, “gonna take a few days i reckon, so get comfortable”.

arthur wasn’t lying. you rode all day, so long that you couldn’t remember what direction you came from or how to get back home. although that outcome was unlikely now. desperate to escape the cold, you pressed yourself against arthur’s back. you felt him stiffen at the contact, but were too cold to care. you couldn’t count the hours it’d been, and for a while you were pretty sure you fell asleep. throughout the day, you only made a few stops. one for bathroom breaks, and one for his horse to rest. the rest of the day was a blur, not much was said, and the only noise you heard was the trotting of hoofs on the ground and the rustle of trees in the wind. when the sun began to set, arthur finally pulled to a stop.

“seems like a good spot” arthur observes the clearing, giving you a stern look before hopping off of his horse, remembering the stunt you pulled last time.

“gonna tie me to a tree again?” your voice was dripping in sarcasm as you allowed him to pull you off the horse.

“you gonna make me?” arthur’s tone matched yours as he pulled out his bedroll and some other supplies. you waited for the extra rope to come, but it never did. arthur instead unties your hands, then reties them in front of you. you audibly sigh at the discomfort that began to dissipate, and you rolled your shoulders a few times in satisfaction.

“y’ dont wanna run off in these parts,” arthur warns as the fire lights up the clearing. “the people will get to ya before the animals do.” you said nothing in response. for a few hours, you stayed dead silent. ignoring arthur’s snarky comments and nothing more than blinking when he’d toss the end of a cigarette or a twig off the ground at you. arthur began to heat a small can of stew, smiling teasingly as he watches you eye it. he pulls gin out of his pocket, downing a hefty swig.

“if you want some, you gotta speak, girl.” arthur eats a large scoop of stew, groaning dramatically in satisfaction in an attempt to tease you.

“fuck you. that enough?” arthur snorts a laugh at your response, deciding to give you a bite. you quickly chew and swallow it, savoring the taste.

“what’s your name anyway?” arthur pauses, scooping out some more stew and holding it up. “you answer me if you wanna eat.”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N” arthur feeds you the stew and downs more gin. halfway through the bottle now.

“Y/N” the way your name rolled off his tongue sent a chill down your spine. “you gotta pretty name, Y/N. how old are ya?”

you eye the man for a while, before looking back down to the tempting spoon of stew. “i’m 22. now can you feed me the god damn food?” you were getting testy now, watching arthur eat and down almost an entire bottle of gin while you’ve had nothing for over a day will do that to you.

“you got a mouth on ya!” arthur let’s out a laugh, feeding you another bite and finishing the rest of the stew himself. he stands up, stretching his legs and yawning, before walking over to you casually. nervously, you watch as arthur squats down to be eye level with you.

“sleep” a small smile crosses his face, confusing you. then, he places a hand on your shoulder and shoves you to the side so you’re in a laying position in the grass. a yelp escapes your lips as you hit the ground. “night”

you watch in disbelief as arthur goes to his spot on the bed roll, very quickly falling asleep with his hat on his face as usual. now was your turn. you thought about running, but had a feeling that arthur wasn’t lying about the people around these parts. slowly, you drifted to sleep in the damp grass.

•••

you woke up to the sound of footsteps crunching in the dead leaves. instantly you were alert. when you looked over, arthur was still passed out. you guessed the gin running through his veins was doing its work. you stayed silent, sitting up slowly and looking into the dark of the forrest around you. the fire was almost out at this point. you tugged anxiously at the ropes binding your hands. there were the footsteps again, from behind you this time. you knew those weren’t from an animal. before you could react, a man came running out of the woods. he was on you in seconds, knife in hand. you let out a scream of terror as you were slammed onto your back. you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the knife to be plunged into your chest, but it never came. instead, there was a gunshot that seemed to shake the forest. when you opened your eyes, there was a bullet hole between the eyes of the man as he crumpled on top of you. the weight of him smothered the cry that you tried to let out. arthur was over in seconds, shoving the body off of you and pulling you to a sitting position. there was genuine worry that you saw for a mere second in his face.

“y’ alright?” he was still blinking the sleep from his eyes as he looked you over for stab wounds. he was half awake, trying to make sense of what was going on. as you opened your mouth to speak, another man emerged from the dark of the woods. he shoved arthur over, effectively knocking the gun from his hands. you were in a trance, looking between arthur, the man, and the pistol laying right in front of you. arthur’s voice startled you out of it. his voice was strained as he called your name out, he was using all his strength to hold the knife mere inches away from his chest. with your tied hands, you picked up the pistol. it was heavier than you expected.

“do… it…” his eyes pleaded with you, meanwhile, the tip of the knife was beginning to sink into his chest. without anymore hesitation, you aimed at the attackers head and pulled the trigger. your ears rung more than the first gunshot that was fired earlier, and you noticed the almost painful vibrations that flowed through your hands. arthur let’s out a sigh of relief, pushing the body off of him and sitting up, before quickly freezing again. he stared at you blankly as you continued to point the pistol at him.

“Y/N…” he holds his hands up and shakes his head. “y’ don’t wanna do this”

you looked at him for a long while, tears were dripping down your cheeks and your hands were shaking violently. you were debating killing him right here and now. but how would you make it in there woods? how would you find your way back? then, you remembered why you were here in the first place, and how your parents threw you out without a thought. finally, slowly, you lowered the gun, arthur took this oppertunity to snatch it from your hands, before audibly exhaling. he watched carefully as you broke down in tears, hugging onto yourself the best you could with tied hands and trying to wipe blood off of your nightgown.

“hey… i uh…” arthur didnt know what to say as he placed a hand upon your shoulder in attempted reassurance. to his surprise, you threw yourself into his embrace. slowly, he wrapped his arms around your frame and listened to you cry. he noticed the red marks on your wrists under the rope, and was shocked at the pang of guilt he felt. without thinking, he takes out his hunting knife and cuts the rope off of you. you use this time to wrap your arms around his waist. arthur slowly runs a hand up and down your back as you continued to sob.

“i’m scared, arthur.” was all you could get out. you had never killed a man before, and the reality was setting in. all arthur could do was mutter an awkward series of ‘it’s alright’ and ‘i’m here’s’ until you calmed down enough to let go. arthur was almost sad at the loss of your presence, and he wished he could rip this part of him out. this part that yearned for love and affection and what he was just finding out, you. half of him screamed as he draped his coat around your shoulders, while the other half cheered.

you avoided eye contact with the gunslinger as you attempted to get your tears under control, pulling his coat around yourself gingerly.

“thank you… for not letting me be killed” you kept your eyes on the fire, too afraid to look at arthur or the bodies or the blood on your skin.

“and thank you, for not shootin’ me along with this feller” you let out a scoff, lips twitching up into a small smile you mustered up. arthur took the time to move the bodies away from camp and your sight, eventually returning and sitting down again. there was a new feeling in the air between you and the gunslinger. a bond forged in blood and death. arthur never tied your hands again, and he kept watch the rest of the night. though neither of you got another wink of sleep, you stayed close to each other, shoulders touching as you sat side by side. you asked arthur plenty of questions about his gang. you were genuinely curious what it was like. you could tell he was fond of them by the way his features softened at just the thought. you realized, they were family, and it didn’t sound so bad. after hours of trying to will the sun to come up faster, it finally rose, and you were more than glad to keep moving.

you couldn’t tell how long it’d been now. you slept for a while the way you have been, your face pressed against arthur’s back in a somewhat comfortable position, but when you opened your eyes again you were in a town. upon reading the sign, you realized it was valentine. you could hear the chatter in the distance, and your eyes lit up with surprise. it had been days since you’d seen another person besides arthur. arthur must have felt you sit up straighter, because he quickly stopped his horse and looked back at you.

“i trust you’re not gonna try no shit?” he asks, exhaling cigarette smoke from his lungs. you hold back the urge to cough as the smoke wafts over your face. he observes you for a second more before straightening your messy hair. you knew it was so you looked more presentable to the town, but it was oddly gentle, intimate.

“no, but people are going to ask questions, arthur.” you spit his name out, and reference down to your now dirty and tattered nightgown. you were upset at the shift between you both after what you went through the night before, and it was hard for you to contain your anger as you spoke. the lack of food and clean clothes was starting to get to you. arthur stares at you for a while, before sighing heavily. though he still gave you attitude, you were surprised with the patience he was beginning to keep with you.

“okay… here” after a second of thinking, he pulled his coat off and placed it around your shoulders once again. casually, the two of you trotted into town, slowing to a stop at the hotel. you ignored the stares the townsfolk gave you as you walked inside. being in a tattered gown and a jacket two big was definitely turning heads.

“one bath for the lady please” arthur tosses the owner a coin and nudges you towards the bath house. once in front of the door, he grabs your wrist and turns you towards him.

“you clean up, i’ll be right back. dont get no ideas of runnin’ off now, because i will find you.” his voice was low as he looked down at you, though you were starting to notice the facade he was putting up. the way he gently held your wrist told you all you needed to know, and unbeknownst to him, you weren’t really planning on leaving. the last place you wanted to go, was back home.

“wouldnt dream of it” your voice was dripping with sarcasm as you pulled your wrist from his grip and pushed your way into the bath house.

once you finished cleaning up, you pulled the towel around yourself and waited awkwardly, leaning from foot to foot as you waited for arthur to come back. the last thing you wanted was to put your old clothes on, so you stood by the fire and slowly dried off. finally, arthur pushed his way into the bath house holding a bag. he froze for a second as he took in your frame, only covered by the small towel. once you started walking towards him, he looked anywhere but at you as he handed you the bag. you say nothing, pulling the clothes out and dropping your towel as you began to pull them on. it was a simple brown dress with yellow detailing on the sleeves, collar, and bottom. you could tell arthur had picked it out, considering how it matched to his own clothes. there was also a new night gown in the bag, and you smiled to yourself.

“could you?” you turn away from the man who was doing most anything but look at you. when he shifted his gaze to you again, your back was turned to him, revealing an unlaced corset.

“yeah… yeah sure” arthur’s hands gingerly fiddled with the string, trying his best to will away the reddening of his cheeks as he observed your exposed back. it had been forever since he had been with another woman, and he cursed the feelings arising in him for you. you turned towards him afterwards, unable to help the smile of relief from being in clean clothes.

“you… you look nice” arthur looks down at your dress, then quickly he turns and pulls you out of the bathhouse with him before you can utter a ‘thank you’.

“you hungry?” arthur wasn’t really asking as the two of you headed towards the saloon, though you almost cried tears of joy at the thought of food. with a glance to the clock on the wall, you realized it was already 6PM. the scent of food that floated through the saloon nearly made you drool. eagerly, you sat at the bar and waited for your steak and potatoes that arthur ordered to arrive.

“2 whiskeys please” arthur tosses a few coins at the bartender who nods in compliance.

“oh i… i don’t drink” arthur looks at you straight faced, sliding the shot glass to you.

“drink” his eyes stayed trained on you all the way until the shots were taken, the burning liquid slides down your throat roughly. arthur let out a hardy laugh as you coughed, instantly digging into your food as it arrived to get rid of the taste.

“another” arthur tosses more coins, not batting an eye when you protest.

“i’m not drinking anymore, arthur!” you glare in his direction angrily. arthur pauses for a while, before leaning in close and bringing the shot to your lips.

“drink the damn whiskey girl.” his voice was low and gravelly as he parted your lips with his thumb, before tilting the shot glass forward. nervously, you swallowed it. this moment reminded you that you were still technically being kidnapped by him, and that he wasn’t messing around. arthur smiles a little, taking his own shot.

“good girl.” you silently turn back to your food, eating slowly and trying to keep track of the amount of shots he was taking. eventually it became too many to count. luckily, he didn’t make you take anymore, too preoccupied with himself.

“arthur that’s enough, let’s go” it had been an hour now, and arthur was shitfaced. the wooziness you had began to feel went away quickly as you scarfed down your food. “you’re drunk”

“am not” arthur smiled lazily, attempting to order another drink, but you snatch the coins from his hand and tell the bartender we’re done. arthur gets up angrily, towering over your frame that was still sat on the stool. he opens his mouth to speak, but instead bumps shoulders with another man who was walking past.

“you bastard! watch it” arthur shoves the man back, sending him tumbling into another man behind him. shit.

in a flash, it was an all out fight between, well, you couldn’t count how many men. you stumbled back, trying to look for arthur in the crowd of men. finally, you spotted him falling to the ground and out of sight again. you debated for a while. do you wanna keep saving this fool? you bounced from foot to foot anxiously, cursing under your breath before bracing yourself and shoving your way through the fighting men. you dodged punches left and right, some of them had to have hit you, but your adrenaline blocked out the pain. finally, you spotted arthur on the ground unconscious.

“son of a bitch!” your voice was drowned out by the shouting, but you finally managed to hook your arms under arthur’s and drag him from the fighting, all the way outside, to the hotel across the street.

“one room please” you spoke to the clerk between heavy breaths, fishing into arthur’s pockets and pulling out the last coins he had for the room. you realized how bad this looked, so you tried to explain yourself. “i- i know him, i swear.” the clerk just nods wearily, recognizing the two of you from earlier and handing you the key. with help of the clerk, you got arthur into the bed.

the next hour or so you spent wiping arthur’s face down with any cloth and water you could find. he looked bad, face bruised and bloody, clothes ripped, you couldn’t help but think he looked beautiful even in this state. finally, you turned to the mirror to tend to your own wounds, which happened to only be a few bruises on your arms and ribs. you sigh in frustration at the new rip on the side of your dress. you almost didn’t notice as arthur began to wake.

“oh… what… happened?” arthur’s voice was slurred as he sat up slowly, wincing in pain and blinking hard.

“you almost fucking died, that’s what!” your voice was nearly bubbling over with anger as you stormed from the mirror over to him. “and so did i, pulling you out from all those men. you’re lucky i haven’t ran off or killed ya! you’re a fool, arthur. a damned fool.” you were tired of holding back your anger, you were pushed to your limit with him. arthur was looking at the bruises on your arms and your waist through your ripped dress, then up at you with the most puppy dog eyed look you’d seen on him.

“m’ sorry.” arthur’s voice was quiet as he spoke and you watched as a drop of blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. “really, you can go. after the hell i dragged you through…” arthur scoffs a laugh and looks to the side. when you don’t speak, or leave, he looks back at you with confusion.

“i’m not gonna leave.” you paused for a while, trying to decide if this was the right decision. “i wanna join the gang.” arthur’s eyes widen at your words, but he nods slowly in response.

“i knew you’d come around” he smiles what you assumed was a genuine one. he then begins to stand, nearly toppling over on you before you grab onto him, steadying him.

“jesus, take it easy!” you push him back down into a sitting position on the bed and lean closer to his face. “i hope you have some doctors in your gang. you’re going to need stitches” you wipe at the blood on corner of his mouth with your thumb and sigh as you observe his wounds once more. when you went to pull away, arthur grabbed your wrist gently. your breath caught in your throat as you looked into his eyes nervously. you didn’t know what he was thinking. his face was unreadable. was he angry? you couldn’t tell. you opened your mouth to speak. you were going to utter your best form of apology for your assumed anger on his part, but arthur silenced you by leaning forwards and pressing his lips against yours. you let out a smothered gasp against his lips, taking a stumbling step back and tilting your head up as arthur stands again. a quiet moan of pain escapes his lips as he leans some of his weight against you. after a few moments of silence, that felt to you like minutes, you pull away, turning your head from him in uncertainty. you didn’t know what you wanted. if this was right. he was dangerous, you knew that, but something about him drew you in dangerously.

“i… i just” you tried to find the words, anything to say to him, but your feelings were like a big tangled ball of string and you couldn’t figure it out.

“i’m sorry.” arthur cuts you off, letting out a cough of pain as he backs off, limping his way to the other side of the room.

“let’s rest. we can talk about things tomorrow.” you watched in disbelief as he laid himself down on the floor by the entrance of the room, pulling his hat over his eyes and breathing deep. you could taste his blood on your lips. you took this time to change into your new night gown and toss your dress to the side. you assumed it would be trash, being unable to sew or afford a tailor.

upon crawling into bed, you fell asleep almost instantly. you missed the feeling of a bed after sleeping on the ground for days. you slept through the entire night, ignoring the throb of your bruises and the commotion of the streets of valentine. when you awoke in the morning, the first thing you noticed was that arthur was gone. the second thing you noticed, was your dress, folded neatly at the end of your bed. slowly, you crawled over and unfolded it, noticing the rip had been carefully sewn shut. with it, there was a piece of paper.

“i’m sorry for what i put you through. you deserve a choice. if you want to run with us, i won’t stop you. if you want to go back to your family, you have my word you won’t see me again.

-A”

upon flipping the note, there was the location of the gangs camp. you knew what you were going to do.

part 2

[krisdreaming]

a little birdie told me you wanted fall themed fic ideas, so here I am!!

I feel like a cute fall themed idea is a coffee date and then a walk through the local park where you admire the colors of the leaves!!

And turns out the day is quite windy, but the reader didn't bring their jacket, so the character gives them their own jacket so the reader won't be cold😭😭❤❤

Is it kinda basic? Yeah, but I feel like you could make this into something really cute

Thank you for believing in me, because I actually came up with a pretty cute idea for this :')

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x gn!reader

WC: 769

A/N: In Japan around this time of year, they celebrate Tsukimi, aka the moon viewing festival. I really love the idea of it, and so the idea to incorporate it into a fic popped into my head! And of course, who better to write it for than our own Tsukki?? The play on words is, of course, that Tukishima's family name contains the character for the moon (Tsuki).

"Look at this!" The poster just catches your eye as you're leaving the coffee shop. It's advertising a Tsukimi event at the nearby park, and it's this evening. "This month has gone by so fast, I almost forgot that it's Tsukimi already!"

Kei leans in to get a closer look at the poster and merely hums in acknowledgement. You tug on his hand. "C'mon, why don't we go? It's only a few blocks away, and it's such a perfect evening." You gesture up at the clear sky, already in its full sunset glory.

"You sure?" He raises an eyebrow. "You don't even have your coat," He points out, and you shrug your shoulders in your t-shirt.

"It's not even cold today! Don't try to make excuses just so you can be a stick in the mud." You pause, donning your best pleading look. "Please?"

He sighs, but his grip on your hand tightens. "Well, alright," He agrees, and you grin. "Only because you said please."

You laugh softly. "Thanks, Kei." You swing your linked hands lightly between you. The walk to the park isn't far. When you get there, you find it strung with soft lights, and a few small food and drink stands are giving off delightful smells.

"I guess you want some dango?" He gestures to the nearby stall, and you nod quickly. It wouldn't be Tsukimi without dango. With your snack acquired, you soon make your way to one of the benches set up throughout the park. You have a clear view of the sky once seated, and you look up into the darkening twilight.

"How soon do you think the moon's going to rise?" You ask, glancing at your boyfriend.

He shrugs. "How should I know?" He slides his arm around your shoulders, and you gladly settle in closer to him. Now that the sun is gone, the warm autumn day is turning into a cool autumn night. You try not to shiver in the cool breeze, not wanting to prove him right about the jacket.

You try to keep up a conversation, but it isn't long before you're clenching your teeth to keep them from chattering. "You're not cold, are you?" Kei asks with a smirk, and you shake your head stubbornly.

"I'm fine." You force out.

"Sure," He says, pulling his arm away and letting even more cool air against your skin. You can't help hugging your arms around yourself. Before you can react, he shrugs out of the jacket he's wearing and drapes it across your shoulders with a click of his teeth.

"I don't want you to be cold," You mumble even as you pull the jacket tighter around you, relishing the body heat still clinging to the fabric.

"It's not even cold today," He mimics your earlier words in a squeaky voice, and you immediately punch his shoulder.

"You're so mean to me!"

"Only because you deserve it," He shoots back, sliding his arm around you again and giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze when you pout. His fingertips skim your arm through the fabric of his jacket, and you rest your head in the crook of his neck.

Soon enough, the moon does make its appearance, and you lift your head to look up at it more fully. The autumn moon really does look larger than normal, and seems to shine just a little bit brighter through the crisp night air.

Eventually, you can't help it. You shift your gaze from the moon in the sky to the man beside you. The moonlight softens his features, and your eyes trace the curve of his nose. You feel warmth swelling in your middle the longer you look at him, taking a few moments to memorize his moonlit face in this moment.

"What are you doing?" He finally turns to you, as if sensing your gaze on him.

"Viewing the moon," You answer nonchalantly with the beginnings of a cheeky smile. He rolls his eyes.

"I was wondering how long it was going to take," He sighs at your joke, his exasperated look almost strong enough to disguise the soft smile quirking at the corners of his lips.

"What?" You ask innocently, and reach to sandwich his face between your palms. "You're my moon, Kei."

"You're insufferable," He replies softly, but he closes the gap between you and presses his lips to yours. His fingers soon come up to cup your face, and he deepens the kiss.

"But you love me anyway?" You ask when he finally pulls away.

"Yeah," He says in a low voice, thumb grazing your cheek. "Unfortunately."

[thepepsislvt]

What if we had another Barto fic because were so starved for his content esp in writing if the reader was like a strawhat that luffy picked up in like skypiea maybe..like a shandorian with the little wings 👀.. just a thought..

I WIN yes i will write more of Barto bc i love him and im glad so many other people love him too!

this one seemed rushed and i apologize i wrote this before my second shift of work :(

Bartolomeo x Winged! Gn Reader

warnings: all fluff, some cursing, mention of doflamingo

you were born on Skypiea and thats all you’ve known

you were always so curious as a child but nobody would tell you what the rest of the world was like

So when you hit your teenage years you decide that one day you're going to leave the floating island

You had wings so you could easily fly away but you couldn't navigate the ocean by yourself

Most nights you would hope and pray that someday, someone would save you.

That's when a certain pirate with a straw hat came and fucked shit up on your island

At the age of 19, you knew this was your getaway, a savior you had spent all of these years praying for

After he won the battle he was fighting you came up to him and his crew as they were about to depart

“Strawhat! You must take me with you! I will prove myself worthy to join your crew-”

“Ok”

“-and I won't take no for an answer! Wait did you say okay? That fast?” you looked at the pirate captain with confusion and shock

All he did was smile and nod

So it was easier than you thought

It didn't take very long to get along with the rest of the crew members

You would give Usopp, Chopper, and Luffy rides through the air

Zoro taught you how to use a sword

Naomi taught you to pickpockets even though you probably won't use that skill

The Entire crew loved you

When Frankly and Brook joined the Straw hats you easily got along with them as well

When you got separated for two years on Sabaody you couldn't have been happier to see them

Your wings had fully grown and you could now use them to their full potential

You guys may have changed a lot physically over the past two years but nothing has changed between your friendship

During the events of Dressrosa, you decided to follow Luffy to the Colosseum to make sure he doesnt give away his identity and draw unwanted attention towards him

While you and Luffy were watching the fight, a certain green haired rooster head had caught your eye

he was hated by the crowd for being vulgar but thats what you liked about him

after his victory in Block B you knew you had to go and greet him

what you were not expecting was him to start crying and saying how much he wasn’t good enough to be in your presence

how can such a scary looking man with the title “Cannibal” fall to his knees over someone like you?

you were flattered by his kind (?) response and had to console him

he asked you to sign your wanted poster he kept

after the defeat of Doflamingo, you hung around Bartolomeo more, falling more and more for him and his wild personality

he had finally accepted that you were actually his friend and took his fanboying down a notch (he still has his moments though)

you had asked him out since you know damn well he wouldnt have the balls to ask you

when you did he just about died on the spot

but y’all had the best time on your date

Sanji and Nami had helped you dress nicely for the event

at the end of the night Barto and you were just star gazing as you told him all about each constellation

Barto knew he had to something he just didnt know how

“you see those six stars up there forming a ‘W’? they call that one the King of Pirates in honor of Gol Roger himself! isnt that cool?” you had explained while pointing to the sky

after you didnt get a response from him you looked over to see if he was alright only to be met with his face close to yours

“Barto? are you alright?” you whispered to him

He just stared into your eyes before kissing your cheek, leaving you flustered and your wings spread out in suprise

“was that okay? should i not have done it?” Bartolomeo started to panic and think of every possible negative outcome before you kissed his lips gently

“more than alright”

he Smiled and started giggling all giddy

“I GOT KISSED BY MY FAVORITE STRAWHAT!!” he yelled out into the sky

you only laughed and kissed him again

[olderthannetfic]

I'm the bridgerton anon. The costume drama is part of it. I do agree with the "it's not what they are going for so shut up" not everything as to be historically accurate.

I actually came to report on newer drama. While i recognize this is not just a problem in Bridgerton it's really stood out to me here. Maybe because it's so hip right now.

But people have almost a pathological need to pick sides. If you are for one character, it must mean you are against another. People take these fictional disagreements way too personally. The harm is fictional guys, no one is getting hurt.

People bullied an actress off twitter last season because played part of a love triangle in season two. It's not even a love triangle, because it was never going to be a choice. He was always going to pick Kate over Edwina. That was the point! It's not like she went on twitter and said some rude shit. All she did was share a poster. A poster the show made.

And it's happening again. Two characters are in a fight this season because character A (the main female lead this season) wont tell her love interest (main male character this season) a really big secret and character B (who knows the secret and is the male love interest sister) is essentially pressuring character A into telling him. AND PEOPLE ARE PICKING UP THEIR PITCHFORKS, for no fucking reason. Regardless of how you feel about this situation, getting this worked up about it to the point of posting rants about is just such an overreaction. Block and move on.

--

[pitiplush]

Hi, I know I've been MIA for a while, but since the news about the cancellation of Shadow and Bone broke I've been sad and I need to let it all out. I've come to think of my blog here like a safe haven, so there's no better place for this.

These photos are of the very first original amigurumis I've ever made (sorry for the first photo, I hastily put it together just for this post because none of my photos seemed good enough). As you can see they are some of the characters of Shadow & Bone: Alina, the Darkling, Inej and Kaz. This was back in 2021, when the show premiered. Back then I had never heard of the Grishaverse, but when I saw the teaser my curiosity was piqued so I gave the books a chance and I LOVED them. After so many years on a reader's block and at a time in my life where I was struggling to get by, I had something new and exciting to look forward to. I loved the show (watched it twice in a row, actually), I loved the cast and I loved everything surrounding the Grishaverse. I even convinced two of my friends to read the books (and I regret nothing) 😂

I was so thrilled I HAD to do something, to create something new inspired by the Grishaverse. At that moment I had been crocheting only for a year but I thought I could try and see if something came out of it. That's how I crocheted Alina, my very first bookish amigurumi. It's not my best work, sure, but till this day I'm so very proud of the result. This was my first attempt at designing an amigurumi, I felt like I was improving my craftsmanship while honouring one of my favourite fantasy sagas. So I kept going, I crocheted the Darkling, made changes to get a better design, started putting more effort into my photos, even replicating the show posters. I kept growing my collection, adding Inej and Kaz and taking fun photos of all of them.

I didn't get far in terms of interactions and likes with them but I didn't care that much, I was just genuinely elated that I was creating something new with my bare hands and that was my priority.

And after them, I stuck to the book amigurumis. Created new patterns and characters, got more involved in photography and photoedition, and strived to do better with each new amigurumi. I got happier too, the thrill to create and share not only my craft but the books I love the most has been the best part of these last three years. And none of that wouldn't have existed without Shadow & Bone, without Leigh Bardugo and her universe, without that amazing cast and all of the writers and staff that have worked tirelessly to bring the Grishaverse to life.

So yeah, I'm heartbroken it has come to this abrupt and unfair end, especially when there was just a season left. In a way it feels like putting an end to a part of my journey as an amigurumi artist, this first part in which I was fumbling to learn and create something new. And as sad as it is, I want to say thank you too. It's not much, but it feels right to use my small amigurumi kingdom and reach to say thank you to everyone involved in the Grishaverse. You've made me unbelievably happy in so many different ways that I have trouble putting it into words.

Thank you as well to everyone who has taken a bit of their time to like, share and leave comments about my Grishaverse amigurumis. You helped me believe in my work and gave me strength to keep crocheting.

I will always remember the first time I showed Alina and the Darkling to my best friends and we talked about how I could crochet the rest, and which ones they wanted to see the most and "omg what if one of the actors noticed your work?????". It will never happen, but imagining the possibility still makes me feel a bit giddy even after two years.

If you've read this far, thank you to you too and sorry for my silly ramblings ♥️ If you love S&B too I'm free to cry together about all of the things we will never see on screen anymore.

P.S.: who would've thought that little me having a crush on Prince Caspian (aka the great Ben Barnes) would have ended in crocheting plushies inspired in book characters??? Not me for sure 😂

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #6485:

The Chipspeech fandom is so small (this fandom has like 14 people, tops) but it's got so much toxicity and drama crammed into it, entirely because of this one radical left-wing clique that's taken over the fandom. To be honest, the Chipspeech drama is some Mean Girls level stuff. Honestly the drama could fill a whole book, but here's the cliff notes:

Before I got into Chipspeech, I was going through my edgy phase and posted right wing political stuff just to piss people off. Everyone shunned me and called me a Nazi and worse. I got bitter and made extra edgy memes, made up headcanons specifically to offend people and talked about everyone who shunned me and said I wasn't welcome in Chipspeech. I realized though that I wasn't getting anywhere so I stopped talking about the clique and changed my mind over time and became a lot more politically moderate, and even apolitical. I lost my edge and became more peaceful and kind. I was all alone but eventually, likely due to losing my edgy persona, I made some friends and started a Chipspeech Discord server. Unfortunately, in spring of this year, things EXPLODED.

Their leaders (let's name them A and B) lashed out at me when I tried to make amends and call for peace, HARD. A left a scathing comment on my video open letter, and along with B, they lambasted me on Twitter. My friends came to my defense, but they were all subsequently blocked and also blasted for supporting me.

I was blamed for a post a (now former) friend made bullying A, but nobody believed that I had been framed and they still think I made those posts no matter how hard I tried to prove my innocence, even though my other friends and I called the real poster out on her behavior and demanded she apologize.

I joined another general TTS server run by another clique member, whom I'll call C. C would run interference for A and B and heavily police my language, and even forced me into a political discussion, trying to make me say that I agreed with her on something even though I was extremely uncomfortable. I ended up in a voice call with A, B and C and I had a lot of fun talking to them and sharing memes. But later A revealed they were pretending to have fun and chastised me for "sucking up to them like nothing happened". I later found out C was screenshotting my messages to her and sending them to A and B, which led to me cutting C off.

These people are so vicious they excluded a person who made a Chipspeech recommendations blog just because he recommended a song my friend and I made.

And this heavy gatekeeping and "one strike and you get the death penalty" mentality in the fandom has scared at least 5 people away from Chipspeech entirely and prevented numerous others from ever giving Chipspeech a chance. People who like Plogue's other software products (Plogue being the Chipspeech developers) are HORRIFIED by the clique and believe that the Chipspeech fanbase is an embarrassing stain on Plogue's reputation.

The clique is actively killing the Chipspeech fandom, which was already a struggling, fledgling fanbase, but they don't care. To them, it's worth all the bloodshed and pain to keep out the people they deem as "irredeemable Nazis" even though nobody here was ever a Nazi to begin with and I've become a completely different person from the edgelord they rallied against.

I just wish some more people would get into Chipspeech, refuse to bend to the clique's will and not participate in the drama, and just vibe and prove that Chipspeech can't be killed.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I found the 1899 Highfield House in another group, and this is what the poster wrote: "Haunted Houses For Spooky Creeps. 100% the house on the block that's sat empty for decades that you purchase for a 'bargain' because you're a silly American, and everyone on the block comes to watch over the hedges as you move in, frowning, because they all know the awful things that happened there."

The Belper, Derbyshire, UK home has 6bds, 1ba. £750K / $940,860. So, let us 'silly Americans' take a look at this 'Haunted 'House for Spooky Creeps':

The entrance certainly has a vibe, but it's all original and the millwork is beautiful. Look at these doors with the stained glass.

Contrary to what the OP said, this house was not empty for 100 yrs. It's currently lived in and some rooms were updated and/or painted. In fact, this fireplace looks Art Deco.

The typically 70s kitchen cabinets were painted. The kitchen's a little dull, but you can work with it.

The sitting room was repainted and has an original fireplace.

The dining room has a large elegant fireplace.

This room looks like it could be a bedroom.

The pool room looks like it has a stage or platform of some kind.

Very vintage toilet in this bath.

Quite a spacious bedroom.

I don't know why the description says 1 bath, b/c this certainly looks like a bath that was updated in the 70s.

There's a very nice view.

Lovely back yard.

And look at the wonderful carriage house and stone wall. This building has a lot of potential.

https://www.rightmove.co.uk/properties/140912264#/media

[just-some-guy-joust]

Just Some Guy OC Tourney - Side B: Round 2

Rules:

do NOT be mean to anyone or any characters in these polls. you MUST clarify if you are joking/teasing or you will be blocked. if you are someone who entered an oc into this and you are mean to other contestants you will be disqualified

do NOT claim a character doesn't deserve to be here. yes including your own. be nice

if you are posting propaganda you have to @ tag us, including if your propaganda is in the reblogs. it is difficult to tell when something is or isn't propaganda. anything not tagging us will likely be missed

please don't hesitate to let me know if i messed something up!

have fun, hype each other up <3 thank you

Professor Morelle Da Capo | She/her | @kira-moonrabbit

CW: The source, Lobotomy Corporation, has a large list of content warnings. This character by herself though is fine

Robotwoman who is famous for being dedicated. She works 24/7. Her hobbies include "logging everyone's opinions about her" and "standing still thinking about bicycles"

~

Lilly | She/her | @pocket-ghostie

CW: Child death

Lilly is a ghost who has found other ghosts and is hanging out <3 Almost all of the plot is happening around her. Thats actually a major plot point in the story, things are happening to the people she cares about... but nothing is really happening to her. She is simply hanging out and doesn't know what to do about the plot, but it keeps going without her doing anything. I don't have much to say about her, I only have things to say about the people around her.

Promos: Toyhouse link: https://toyhou.se/21226516.lilly

~

Full images and descriptions under the cut!

Professor is a machine who was built to replace employees! Well, a prototype that failed that they put to work. Her robotic-ness serves not to reduce her Just-Some-Guyness, but rather to amplify it. She logs everything that happens to her. She loves to partake in tasks and objectives. However this does not mean she is an emotionless beep-boop, but instead she has the personality of a tired but kind old lady. The kind who has an endless supply of caramels in a bowl somewhere. However she has no idea how to form her own preferences. She's factory default in everything. Plain as water. She sees the hells of being in lobcorp as normal and natural. One time she went to another branch and was absolutely delighted by a "hang in there, baby!" poster as though it was the cutest thing she's ever seen.

Minor spoilers for the story <3 Lilly finds out that her brother accidentally murdered her and she freaks out bc that's wild. But then she forgives him and everything is fine. She finds out that her dad has turned into a monster and she does nothing about it but avoids him. Her mom starts trying to control her, and she just waits for her friends to help her because she knows they will. She is so so tired of The Plot and doesn't know what to do about it. So she just... doesn't deal with it. She is hanging out, she is simply a lovely litty girl who is going through the horrors <3 Her friends don't even know that much about her, except for her family. She doesn't even know that much about herself. She knows she likes flowers, and having fun... but she doesn't quite know what fun is to her. She kinda gets left behind by the plot in a sense, even though shes the main character. (But I still love her very very much, she is my baby and no one can hurt her <3)