#these issues make it hard to run so she puts on some weight

[faeriekougraz]

The pride land’s pride and joy

The Ndona pride’s protector

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 3

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

A/N: Steve Rogers is older than Bucky here.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You arrived at the new apartment, feeling a small sense of relief for finally being under a different roof than Caroline’s. The thought of enduring the same torture as before made your skin crawl.

As you settled in, you broke the silence. “Your mom offered the attorney to us.” You remembered how you had insisted the divorce attorney make it as quick and painless as possible. “Why didn’t you finalize it?”

Bucky’s gaze remained steady. “Not once did I think you were actually going to leave me.”

“There’s no marriage between us,” you shot back, your voice sharp. “If you’d finalized it, you could’ve easily married a woman your mother approved of.”

Flashback Start

You recalled every time Caroline mentioned another woman’s name as if they were more suited for Bucky. “You know, Rachel just graduated summa cum laude from Harvard in social politics,” she had said at the rehearsal dinner.

Then, on your wedding day, as you and Bucky sat together, trying to enjoy the celebration, Caroline approached, holding hands with a stunning woman. “Bucky, look who’s here? Katherine just arrived from London.”

Caroline’s voice dripped with approval. “Both of them went to the same law school.”

You clenched the fork in your hand so hard you thought it might snap.

Why the hell was she introducing another woman to you on your wedding night?

Did she expect you and Bucky to have a threesome with Katherine?

From that moment, you knew your place—an outsider who didn’t come from the pedigree Caroline so desperately wanted for her son.

When you finally left the house, you remembered her raising her champagne glass with a smirk. “I always knew you weren’t the one.”

Flashback End

“They need someone with a spotless record,” Bucky said, breaking you from your thoughts.

You stood there, your emotions a mix of anger and disbelief.

“I’m not making excuses for you. I know the old me wasn’t good enough, that I couldn’t be the man you could rely on,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret.

He looked at you with a desperation that caught you off guard. “You could poison my drink, stab me in my sleep. I wouldn’t fight it. I’d let you.”

His eyes, usually so confident and composed, were now filled with a deep, pained sincerity. The weight of his guilt seemed to crush him, and the shadows of remorse darkened his features. His hands trembled slightly, betraying the calm facade he tried to maintain.

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. How could he say that so casually? What kind of twisted love was this?

“That’s how much I need you,” he confessed, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re using me,” you accused, your voice shaking with a mix of fury and sadness.

Bucky didn’t deny it. “Like I said, it’s a business relationship. But I’ve trusted you from the beginning. Put my faith in you.”

He reached out, taking your hands in his, holding them together like a prayer. “And I hope we can work together. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to work in the White House.””

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The following day, you met Steve, the future Presidential candidate. He greeted you warmly, his genuine smile easing some of the tension you felt. You’d met Steve and his wife, Peggy, a few times before—honest people who never treated you like you didn’t belong. Steve had even defended you whenever Caroline or others looked down on you for not being in the same league as them.

"I’m so glad you’re here," Steve said, clasping your hand. "When did you arrive?"

You chuckled softly. "Well, when three Secret Service agents showed up at my door, who was I to say no?"

Steve chuckled too, though there was a hint of awkwardness in his eyes. He tilted his head slightly. "Let’s talk."

You walked together, the air thick with unspoken words. "I know it’s difficult for you to be here. I owe you big time," Steve began sincerely. He had witnessed your marriage crumble, and despite his and Peggy’s best efforts to support you and Bucky, things had fallen apart.

You sighed. "What confuses me is, why me? He could’ve chosen another woman, someone way more qualified."

Steve leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "To be honest, I think you’re the best option. He probably won’t show it, but Bucky was happy when he heard you were coming."

You scoffed, glancing over at Bucky, who was watching the two of you from a distance. "Impossible."

As you scanned the room, you spotted someone familiar—your brother, Tim. Excusing yourself from Steve, you made your way over to him.

"I’m glad you’re here," Tim said, his voice filled with warmth, though his eyes carried a weight of their own.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I can’t believe you. You knew what I went through, and yet you’re working with him? You sucked up to him."

"Look at me," Tim said firmly.

You glanced down at him, seeing the determination in his gaze.

"Who’s going to hire a disabled person like me?" Tim who seated on his wheelchair, his voice wavered slightly as he spoke. He had been born with both legs, but when bone cancer struck his left leg, the doctors recommended amputation to stop it from spreading. That surgery had shattered his dreams of becoming a professional tennis player.

"It was James who offered me a job," he emphasized, "with a high salary."

Tim continued, "You can keep your anger, but face it, Y/N—they won’t pay the bills. For people like me, I need more money to survive in this world."

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Bucky appeared beside you.

"Hi, Tim."

"Hey," Tim replied.

"I'm going to steal your sister for a bit." Bucky turned to you. "Our next schedule is couple’s therapy," he said, his voice calm but authoritative, cutting the conversation short.

You hated this part. The thought of attending therapy with Bucky made your stomach twist with unease. You shot Tim one last look, a mixture of concern and frustration in your eyes, before following Bucky out of the room.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

As you and Bucky sat across from Aiden, the therapist, the atmosphere was thick with unresolved tension. The room was simple yet comfortable, with soft, neutral tones that were supposed to be calming but did little to ease the storm of emotions swirling within you. You could feel the weight of Bucky's presence beside you, a familiar heaviness that both comforted and suffocated you.

Aiden leaned forward, his expression neutral but attentive. "So, what are you feeling right now?"

You hesitated for a moment before speaking, your voice laced with frustration and exhaustion. "I don’t think I have the courage to live another day in his family. His mother is the devil spawn. Even seeing her shadow triggers me." The words spilled out of you, raw and unfiltered, a reflection of the years of pain and resentment you'd kept bottled up.

Aiden nodded, his gaze shifting to Bucky. "And what about you, Mr. Barnes?"

Bucky's eyes remained fixed on a spot on the floor, his voice steady but lacking its usual conviction. "I didn’t think that way. As long as we stick together, we can get through everything." There was a hint of desperation in his tone, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

You turned to look at him, disbelief and anger simmering beneath your calm facade. "From the beginning, we should’ve never gotten married. You only focus on yourself, never bothering to look behind you. Me, trying my best to fit into your circles."

Your voice wavered, the painful truth of your words cutting through the silence like a knife. You had always known you were out of his league—young and innocent, believing that love could conquer all.

But you had been wrong, and the reality of that mistake was too much to bear.

His mother’s voice echoed in your mind, the countless times she’d told you that you weren’t good enough, that you didn’t deserve him.

"Your mother was right. I don’t deserve you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s expression tightened, his guilt etched into every line of his face. "I’m sorry. I really am sorry." His voice cracked, the weight of his regret finally breaking through.

He had never wanted this—to see you hurt, to see you broken because of him and his family. But the damage was done, and the guilt gnawed at him, relentless and unforgiving.

Aiden observed the exchange, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. "I see that you’re the victim here, ma’am. And your former mother-in-law is the main reason why." He glanced at Bucky, his voice firm. "Mr. Barnes, your mother hurt her deeply, and now you must do everything in your power to make amends."

Bucky nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "I will. I'll do anything to erase the hurt you’ve received from her." The sincerity in his voice was palpable, but it was clear that the guilt weighed heavily on him. He had failed to protect you, to shield you from his mother’s venom, and that failure haunted him.

Aiden’s voice softened, but there was a steely resolve in his words. "Use this pain, both of you. Let it fuel you to confront Caroline, to reclaim your strength. Don’t let her win. Turn this pain into power."

As you sat there, the enormity of the situation began to sink in. You had been through so much, and the path ahead was uncertain. You had expected to loathe the couple’s therapy, but surprisingly, it turned out to be a beneficial experience.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

After the couple's therapy, the silence between you and Bucky was palpable, each of you grappling with the raw emotions that had surfaced.

The therapy had stripped away your filters, leaving you both exposed—your anger and frustration flowing freely. Bucky remained stoic, absorbing your harsh words with an almost resigned patience.

Returning to the Barnes household, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The room was filled with Bucky’s family: his parents, Julius and Caroline; his brother, Shawn, who struggled with cocaine and felt diminished by his inability to meet Caroline’s lofty expectations; and Hazel, Bucky’s sister and Nate’s mother.

Hazel, having felt overshadowed as the spare child, had chosen a career in fashion to escape the constant comparison to Bucky, who was seen as the golden child.

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Shawn and Hazel, both of whom shared your misery under Caroline’s disdain. But that sympathy was tempered by their enjoyment of watching you suffer, thanks to their mother’s contempt.

Greg, a family friend, was the bearer of the news that the whole family would attend the upcoming convention event.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you said firmly, your tone clipped.

“Why… why?” Greg asked, confused.

Caroline rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Here we go.”

Bucky tried to interject, “Don’t…”

You cut him off with a steely gaze. “After that consultation, you still want to continue this?”

Caroline's eyes narrowed. “I knew we couldn’t trust her.”

Shawn chuckled, and Hazel remained indifferent.

“Quiet,” Julius commanded, his voice brooking no argument. The room fell silent.

With a sense of finality, you approached Caroline. “You’re so jealous of me,” you said, your voice dripping with disdain.

Caroline’s eyes widened, a mixture of anger and shock. “What are you talking about?”

“Because you know I’m going to get what you can’t have,” you smirked, savoring the moment. “Being the wife of the Vice President.”

“You bitch,” Caroline spat, something snapped inside her. Deep down, you were right—she was jealous of you. You were younger, smarter, and luckier. It was her dream to be in your position, but now it seemed like she had paved the way for you instead. What’s worse, you didn’t fit her criteria at all. She felt you didn’t deserve this.

Without warning, Caroline lunged at you, grabbing your hair. The two of you were soon locked in a fierce struggle, yanking each other’s hair and grappling with a fury that left no room for remorse. The physical confrontation was liberating, an outlet for all the anger you had been holding back.

You felt no fear and no guilt towards the seventy-year-old woman. At last, you could release all the anger you had been holding in.

Waiting for karma takes too long, and you can’t expect God to do all the work. So you took this chance to give her a lesson she won’t forget.

“Stop! STOP!” Bucky and Julius’s voices cut through the chaos as they tried to separate you. Shawn and Hazel, their faces a mix of curiosity and apathy, slowly backed away from the scene.

It was a struggle to pry you apart; Caroline, in her rage, was more unruly and disheveled compared to your own controlled fury.

“Hufft,” you adjusted your disheveled dress and hair, glaring at Caroline with a fierce, triumphant look. “You know what? I hope your son wins, so I can rub my new position right in your face.”

Caroline’s expression was one of shock and fury, her face a portrait of someone who had been dealt a blow she wasn’t prepared for. Her eyes were wild with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“You’re absolutely right,” you looked at Bucky, your voice steady. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to live in the White House.”

Caroline’s gritted her teeth.

“If the world wants to see us as a happily married couple,” you said with a cold smile, “I’ll give them the most blissful marriage they’ve ever seen. It’ll be the kind of marriage everyone talks about when they mention a perfect union.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise at your cold declaration. For a moment, he was stunned, but as he processed your words, admiration and pride flickered across his face. He straightened, a hint of a smile forming, clearly impressed by your bold resolve and newfound strength.

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[olivianyx]

A FEW UPDATES ON MY JOURNEY 🎀

Sooooo there's still more I've manifested!

🎀 money, money, money, must be funny in a rich mans world~ lmaoo just more and more money everyday!

🎀 I stopped listening to subliminals for a while and I saw major results like my hair growing over an inch, my lashes getting longer and prettier, my weight going down, and I grew an inch again y'all 😭 I'm 173cm rn 😩 I wanna be tall as my boyfriend gojo hehe 🦋🦋 but not exactly tall as him but a lil shorter lol then I can't wear heels 😭 or my boy be looking like my son instead of my bf lmaoo

🎀 minimalist skincare products!

🎀 my skin tone lightening up a bit 🍃 like I didn't notice it until my family members and peers complimented me.

🎀 my grades going high again!

🎀 okay this one's a bit personal, but lemme get this straight. I mentioned in my last success story post that I got closer to crush... When in fact I wasn't even in love with her 😭 that was just admiration, not love. I realised my worth, and I stopped putting efforts, now the ship has sunk. She isn't bothered anymore, and me too since I was the only one obsessed. No offence but she wasn't worth my time. So I decided to spend it on satoru instead 🎀🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

🎀 my parents becoming more lenient nowadays 🙌

🎀 I've been getting more free foods and snacks! People love to hang out more with me! 🤍

🎀 my singing skills improving! I wanted to sound like lana, it's not exactly like hers but I'm getting there!

🎀 there's still more I'm just lazy to type lol

MY RESPAWN JOURNEY

So I haven't yet respawned yet since I'm too attached to this reality. I'm still scripting a custom dr that I wanna respawn and also my jjk dr too. So when I finish (idk myself when I'm gonna finish lol) I will surely respawn.

But don't worry! This account will be run by another consciousness that I replace. I know I manifested stuffs here, I enjoy and all, but deep deep down I realised that I never wanna be here. I belong to the lands somewhere far away, not in this city 😭 I'm just too attached to this reality that's making me feel guilty to leave.

I'm working on it tho. I mean I deserve everything, why would I feel guilty for having what I want, right? I've encountered the worst traumas and situations here, yet something inside me is telling me not to leave this reality, while also feeling that I don't deserve to be here, and somewhere better where I have everything I want.

I remember bawling my eyes out cus I don't wanna be here anymore, yet feeling guilty to leave. Everyone has a journey, so do I. I know this ain't gonna be longer and ik it's already done, I'll respawn once my script is done. Keeping this in my mind, I'm spending my last few days here being happy and I'm doing everything I want so I don't feel something irrelevant while I leave. I wanna leave this place in peace.

With that being said, y'all deserve everything too! Don't hold yourself back, sometimes the ego holds us back, but don't let it take control and keep going! You're the God of your reality. So why not take that chance and stop being lazy? I mean it's the life of your dreams and some of y'all aren't even putting 0.000000001% effort? It's not the physical effort but the mental work, everything is the mental work and you don't even need to lift a finger. I mean it's not that hard focusing on your 4d. I agree for some people that have mental health issues like adhd, aphantasia, anxiety, and all. Even I had them too! I had avpd, anxiety, low self esteem, depression, maladaptive daydreaming, and ptsd, but still I did it while staying with a toxic narcissistic family that cares only about themselves! They who were constantly nagging me every 5 mins, now are quiet and unbothered. Why? Because I changed the version of me who was thinking that they were toxic, and I assumed they were lenient, and now they are. Honey, it's not hard at all. You're making it hard for yourself. So just stop with the bullshit and go live your dream life!

- Olivia 🎀

[bitchesgetriches]

Bitches I need some advice.

I'm fat, okay? I'm not ashamed about it. It just... Is. I'm fat.

Being fat is also fucking me up. It's causing me sleep problems, it's fucking my joints, I can't walk as far as I used to, I haven't run in years.

I want to lose weight. Not for anyone else. For me. I want to be fit again.

I'm surrounded by people telling me I'm "not fat" and need to "love myself like I am". I'm 210lb and 5'3". Ya girl is fat. And I'm okay with that it's not a bad word. I love myself. But I also love the things I used to be able to do when I was fitter. It's just really fucking hard.

I've got zero support left and right. And I don't know what to do. I know this isn't your area of expertise, but you're such great internet mamas that maybe you can help.

My darling child, we are SO humbled that you came to us with this. And while this isn't an area of our OFFICIAL expertise... weight and athleticism is something that I, Piggy, personally think a lot about! So let me see if I can offer some support to you, my beloved fat child.

By way of background: I have never been fat. Heavier than I want currently, but not fat. So I don't completely understand what you're going through. I have always been an athlete of one sort or the other. But more than that, I have always had the privilege of being relatively skinny without trying. At peak fitness I was running and rock climbing and doing all the stretchy and weight-trainy stuff. I was 5'5" and 130 lbs of jacked Bitch.

I am also a proud Italian American woman, which means that after 30 genetics decreed that I start putting on weight and rounding out and coming into my full Zia-ness. I'm currently 155 lbs. and running/climbing/stretching/jumping about/weight training is getting harder and harder. And that's frustrating to me.

Fat is not a bad word, merely a descriptor. So I'mma use it just as you have! I'm proud that you are prioritizing your health and ability to do what you love over losing weight for the sake of just being smaller. Because let's be clear: weight and health do not necessarily go hand in hand. If your goal is to improve your sleep quality, energy levels, and joint pain, then you should focus on activities that will work directly on those issues. Maybe that'll lead to weight loss--maybe not!

A lot of the medical establishment is cruel to fat people, so I'd be cautious about approaching this with your doctor. But you SHOULD get medical guidance before embarking on any kind of physical change. If your doctor says "Well, just lose weight through diet and exercise!" then you might want to look for a new doctor. If they instead offer practical solutions for incremental improvement, then great.

One of my favorite athletes is The Mirnavator. She's a fat marathon runner and offers a lot of information on how to start walking more and running as a fat person. I think she'll be a good role model for you as she focuses a lot on energy and joint health.

Also, you should check out Aubrey Gordon's blog Your Fat Friend and her podcast with Michael Hobbes, Maintenance Phase. She's also got some great books out! She's a fat expert on weight loss and diet culture. And her insights into healthy nutrition and body image are amazing. Her data-based approach will help you avoid the extreme dieting and weight loss trends that can hurt your health. Plus she's funny as fuck.

Lastly I will just say that mental health is tied to physical health. You're bummed about not doing the things you use to be able to do... and that probably makes it a lot harder to change! Acknowledge any depression or anxiety you feel about being fat and give yourself compassion. Start small and do what feels good.

Now here are two VERY old articles I wrote when I knew less about fatness. I think they still have a little bit to offer, though:

Why You Probably Don't Need That Gym Membership

Run With Me if You Want to Save: How Exercising Will Save You Money 

Any fat members of Bitch Nation who want to weigh in? Uh... pun not intended.

[andrewminyardapologist]

TW: Food Trauma

Thinking about how it's probably really healing for the Foxes to have "family dinners" at Abby's because so of them most likely have some sort of trauma surrounding food.

Dan: Had to support her family, struggling to put food on the table, having to work to keep herself and her family fed. So much food insecurity that she doesn't have to worry about anymore. (I'm sure she still does, it doesn't just go away, but she now doesn't have to worry about making enough to afford her next meal.)

Allison: In recovery from an eating disorder, learning to have genuinely happy experiences revolving around meals, praised for her strength on the court and not just her beauty, learning that food is nourishment.

Neil: I mean... This one is obvious. He's been on the run close to a decade, and now has sit down meals regularly with people he cares about. Food doesn't just mean stuff you can steal from a grocery store or scrounge up at a gas station vending machine. It's part of home. It's Abby's kitchen, warm and bright, surrounded by his chosen family all helping to cook and set the table. It's smiling and laughing over a big plate of lasagna.

Kevin: He's obsessed with health to the point it's disordered. In the Nest, food was not about enjoyment. It was about being perfect. Everything he ate was chosen for him. At Abby's, he gets to pick his portion size, which foods he wants to eat, probably learns what he likes and dislikes genuinely because of taste and not nutritional content. I would bet eventually Abby catches on and makes his favorites pretty often, helps him try new foods and actually enjoy them, regardless of nutritional content.

Andrew: Andrew grew up in foster care, and he says none of his placements were good. He seems to have a lot of sensory issues surrounding food (rips it into tiny pieces, likes really intense flavors like spicy or sweet, etc.) I'm willing to bet he was often underfed and did not often get much say in what he ate. If he wanted to eat, it would have to be whatever he could. I think that while he might never admit it, having Abby's dinners (eventually) start to feel safe for him, the routine of it, the fact that no one would judge his eating there or force him to eat things he didn't like, would be something that helps him feel more comfortable around food. I think being allowed seconds, or thirds, would help him feel some security surrounding food. Similar to Kevin, I think Abby would pick up on the things he likes and make those meals more often. I think Bee helps with this too, what with the hot chocolate and everything.

Aaron: Tilda was abusive and neglectful. I think it is safe to assume Aaron had to worry about keeping himself fed for most of his life, and had to learn to cook for himself. Probably he had to figure out his own way to make sure he stayed fed without much help from Tilda. It's probable she punished him by withholding meals as well. I think similar to Andrew, having some consistency in the routine of dinner at Abby's helps him feel more secure. Additionally, I think he probably likes not having to bear the full weight of cooking for himself, and learns to enjoy it as something he does with his family instead of something done out of necessity. I imagine Abby teaches him some recipes that are fun and not just basic stuff thrown together in an attempt to make something edible.

Nicky: Nicky was 18 when he took in the twins. He had to work HARD to keep the three of them fed. It was probably difficult as well considering Andrew and Aaron already had issues surrounding food. I think he would find comfort in seeing that the twins were not only getting fed, but we're starting to let go of some of that insecurity about food. I think he would also find relief in not having to worry about feeding two kids when he was basically still a kid himself.

[bluegalaxygirl]

Amnesia (KidKiller X Reader) Prologue

Plot: After an explosion reader wakes up in a hospital with no memory of the past few years, her parents want to take her home so she can recover and get back to a normal life while the Kid pirates want her back on the ship where she belongs.

Warning: Body shaming/issues, Family problems/mental abuse, bad language, Violence and Blood.

Reader is Female, Poly Relationship, established relationship, Kid X Reader X Killer, Reader is a member of the Kid pirates and is in charge of the money, Budgeting and negotiating the best price.

Next Part >

The firstborn of the family always carries on the family name which is why high class families want their first to be a boy, so when you were born a girl you were a disappointment from the start. It didn't matter from that point on, what you did or what you accomplished in life, you would never be good enough for them, but you still tried. You wanted to be smart like your farther and prove to him that you can one day run the several companies that he owns, they were inherited from his farther who inherited it from his farther, it goes on and on. Your farther is very old-fashioned, men should work and women should stay home to raise the next generation, Your mother agreed with him on this so tried to raise you to be a lady, be pretty and proper. You wanted to please both of them, so they would finally look at you with love and respect but the more you tried the less happy you became. Still trying for a boy your parents had 4 other girls before finally having a boy but during that time of waiting they decided to put what they had to use. Beauty competition and pageant became your life and the things you actually liked to do had to be dropped in order to make time for all that. Your mother became more controlling sometimes scaring you with how far she was willing to go just to get you to win, she told you what to eat and when to eat, you were never aloud to cut your hair since it had to be longer and better than the other girls. You were measured and weighed every day, if you were over a certain weight then she would withhold food until you were back down to that weight.

Your mother broke down in tears when it turned out you needed reading glasses stating that it will damage your nose, you tried contacts, but they hurt and caused eye irritation, despite that you grinned and bared so you could continue to read and do your school work trying to impress your farther while also pleasing your mother. Even though you were only doing extra math's lessons to try and get your father to notice you it was something you began to look forward to, your teachers praised you for your work and even moved you up a year, because of this you enjoyed it more and more some times forgetting the reason you were doing all this in the first place. Unfortunately your sisters were pushed to the side most of the time, your mother stayed focused on you and trying to have a boy for your farther while your farther was either locked in his office or on business ventures, a lot of resentment formed between you and your sisters, they wanted mothers attention and you wanted less of it hoping it will take some pressure to being the most beautiful off of you. Things got better when your farther's company took a turn for the worst, he actually needed you and you were more than happy to help, hopefully making him proud of you in the process. It was hard work and you spent a lot of late night but your Farther made sure your mother didn't interfere because of this she turned her attention to your sisters finally giving them the attention they wanted.

It took months of work but you managed to fix the problem and found a way to save more money without hurting anyone who works for your farther, despite all that you didn't get a thank you, just sent back to your mother. It broke you seeing how he would easily throw you aside once he had what he wanted and things got worse when your brother came along. You were 14 when your brother was born, you didn't even know him and yet you hated him, your farther now had a son and it didn't matter if he grew up to be stupid or ugly, he would still have farther's praise. Your farther did most of the work raising your brother making sure he would one day be the head of his companies, it broke you even more seeing how your brother who was still a baby had more love and respect that you ever did or ever would. It didn't take long for the anger and hurt to boil over, you started acting out and rebelling, it started out small, going down stairs for late night snacks, ripping a dress you were going to wear just before a contest making it seem like an accident, missed pageants to go to business lectures or extra classes. To get your anger out you took up late night defense classes and a bit of kickboxing, it helped you calm down, not do anything rash and gave your brain a break from thinking about everything. Building up muscle made you feel better in yourself but when ever you would get weighed your mother would become angry since you put on weight. It didn't matter to her if it was muscle weight or not, a girl shouldn't have muscles, she should be thin and fair skinned, she didn't make you food but you would sneak down and make your own pissing her off even more.

Over time, you got more and more brave while also learning how to deal with your mothers anger when ever she would yell at you. The first time she truly yelled at you the poor maids had to come in and hold her back from hurting you, what made her so angry? You cut your hair up to your shoulders, you didn't want to do pageants or beauty contest anymore, you wanted to be your own person, you wanted to do the things you actually like and make a life for yourself that didn't revolve around pleasing your parents, but she never took you seriously until you cut your hair. She was losing control of you but gripped on tight, everything you did to rebel was met head on by something she would do and in turn you would do worse. She pulled you out of school, so she could home school you to become a lady but you sneak out and sit outside a class room listening through the open window while taking notes, because of this she hired security to have you on 24 hour watch. After a few weeks you got their routine and shift changes down so would use that time to sneak out either going to the school or going to the local gym. She would send them out to get you but over time you started to fight back refusing to go home until you were done with what ever you were doing. It wasn't long until those men quit finding you too hard to handle, your mother hired people after people, but they kept quitting and soon word got around making it impossible to hire anyone else knowing that you would physically hurt them. You 1, Mother 0.

Your mother still forced you into pageants by threatening to break something you loved or tricking you in some way, she would lie to you getting you to come back home or to a hall where the pageant was held, it got to a point where you stopped believing her even when she called to tell you your grandmother died, you thought it was a lie so just hung up on her but it turned out to be true. The main things she threatened to break was your glasses or what ever book you were reading at the time, one time your called her bluff causing her to break your glasses and then going through your room to break other stuff. You 1, Mother 1. Your mother would cook meals while keeping a food and calorie book for you, she watched what you ate and when she realized things weren't adding up with the amount of food used, she put chains and padlocks on the fridge and cupboards. Your farther had to step in on the argument you and your mother had over this telling you to do as your told but you refused to give up, it took you a while to figure out a way around it while not destroying the kitchen but you managed to get your hands on the key and make an imprint of it so you could have one made. It was going great until she caught you, from then on she would change the locks regularly, you didn't have the money to keep making prints to get a key made so you thought, if she's not going to be sneaky then neither am i. You bought bolt cutter and cut the chains and locks, she would put new ones up but you would just cut them again, it was another thing she had to back down on since your farther was getting upset with how much money she was spending on this. You 2, Mother 1.

You managed to save up enough money to get your first tattoo at 16, by working as a cleaner at the gym and tutoring other kids, It was hard work but you actually found joy in it. You wanted to go for a collar bone piece since your mother loved for you to wear sleeveless dresses but luckily the tattoo artist convinced you to go with a less painful area for your first time, so you got it on your forearm. A stack of books with a steaming cup on top, your favorite flowers, chocolate cosmos scattered around and leaves poking out from between the books. Your mother was beyond pissed when she found out and tried to get you to lazier it off but since you were 16 it was your chose medically so when you refused there was nothing anyone could do. During pageants or beauty contests she would use make up to cover it up, you hoped getting a tattoo would deter her form putting you in skimpy dresses but it seemed to make her worse. You didn't know if you won or lost on that one but as the outfits got skimpier you decided as much as you love your tattoo and would never get rid of it, she won that time. You 2, Mother 2. Your farther often had to get involved when your mother yelled at you since you'd just stare at her blankly waiting for her to calm down so you could talk but this would make her even more angry, her yelling could be heard from all over the house and it could last for almost an hour or until her voice gave out.

You know there's no point in trying to talk to either of them when they get angry, what ever you have to say will be met with more anger and mean comments, there's no point in yelling back. Your farther used to be mad that your mother was too loud when yelling at you but that soon changed to him yelling at you since your the problem, if you just did as you were told then your mother wouldn't be yelling and spending more money than needed to keep you in your place. Why they didn't give up on your or kick you out? Its most likely to save their reputation, having to kick out their eldest would put them in a bad light. You wanted to leave home as soon as you could, so you kept working, unfortunately it wasn't enough to get a boat and have money over to survive on out in the water especially when you'd have to buy new glasses whenever your mother break them or pay to fix broken things in you room. The money you saved up would come and go depending on you mothers mood and if you were willing to do as she says that day. You didn't have enough money to leave but you did it anyway on your 18th birthday when your parents did something you can't forgive, It was the straw that broke the camel's back as they say, so you gathered all the things you could and grabbed what money you had before leaving. Your parents didn't come after you which you were thankful for, but they probably hoped you would come around and not run away like you were planning on.

You bought a small boat that had a small hut, it was shabby at best but the engine worked and you just wanted out. It lasted longer than you thought, after a few islands the engine gave out but you managed to get to an island before that happened, some of the wood panels were coming loose and when you turned the light on inside the cabin to check things it sparked and a fire broke out. Luckily you managed to put it out quickly but the wiring was all kinds of messed up, no wonder the boat was cheep, it's a fire waiting to happen. To make matters worse this island isn't the friendly's, they don't mind outsiders, but they will charge you extra just for being one, It was hard to get a good price on anything but you managed to get a few things with what little money you had. You spent over a month on that island trying to fix the boat you had no idea how to fix while working in the village doing their taxes for little money. It was hard work and you felt like you were never getting off this island but surprisingly it was better than home. After another day of lots of work and hardly any pay you went to by supply's to fix your ship only to find two pirates that needed help with the cranky shop keeper over pricing them. You helped them in exchange for a ride to the nearest island with a village, their crew was a strange one but fun, of course you hid things from them, you never once mentioned your family and gave a fake last name when they asked. They may be fun to hang around with but their still pirates at the end of the day.

As you spent time with the crew you became very good friends with House, the ships new Doctor, well she was the best person they could find for the job. She didn't know how to fight at the time so you taught her a little on how to defend herself, she was sweet yet crazy and you didn't want to leave knowing she could get badly hurt. The other person you became close with was surprisingly Heat, you were a little scared of him but you refused to show fear around anyone in case they take advantage of it, he liked you for not being fearful of his appearance and for not flinching when ever their captain yelled or lashed out in anger. Kid's anger wasn't normally directed at you but most people run and hide when being anywhere near the angry or drunk captain. You didn't mind doing things around the ship since you were staying on there for free and even sorted out some of their finances with Killer looking over your shoulder most of the time, Killer and Kid were impressed that not only did you save them money on land but now you were saving them money out at sea too. It was the first time you got praise for your work, normally people would just hand you the money and watch you leave but you didn't charge them for any of it, and they actually thanked your for it all. When it was almost time for you to leave the ship, Captain Kid asked you to join his crew, It was a big surprise but you couldn't pass up the opportunity so you joined.

At first, you were mostly a cleaner and helped Kid or Killer with the money while they watched your every move until they could fully trust you. After a year not only where you put fully in charge of finances, budgeting and negotiating but Kid and Killer got together, you knew the two had a thing for each other and you, along with the crew were relived that it finally happened. There was a bit of hurt in your chest though, as much as you were happy for the two and enjoyed seeing them together you still had feelings for the both of them, time should have gotten rid of those feelings, but they only grew more and more as you got closer with them. As the crew grew you felt more and more at home, the crew was your family and the Victoria Punk was your home, you started to act more like yourself and how you wanted to be with no repercussions. The collection of tattoo's on your body grew over time, either relating to the things you love and things that remind you of the crew but you refuse to get your ears pierced, Kid wanted to do it for you but thanks to some past trauma you refuse. A few years went by before Killer and Kid pulled you into their room to talk, it turns out they felt the same as you did and after a long time of talking about it the two decided that they wanted you to be a part of their relationship. How could you say no? Your feelings for them never went away and you wanted nothing more than to be loved by them and show them how much they mean to you.

The hole crew knew about your relationship, it was no secret and no one had a problem with it so the three of you didn't mind a little PDA, Kid's a bit more closed off when off the ship and can get flustered easily when the two of you tease him or show affection when out in public, he'll yell at the two of you to shut up before storming off. There has been some fights and arguments between the three of you, well mainly between you and Kid but at the end of the day you all felt better when sleeping in the same bed. After Kid lost his arm you started painting his nails for him, it was the first time you actually enjoyed doing any kind of make up so ended up doing it more often for both of them. Even though you trust the two and fully love them you still haven't told them about your past and who your family was, you only said that it wasn't a nice place to be so you left, they never pushed you on the issue but some times worried when ever you'd lash out over someone commenting on your looks or waist line. They learned not to call you certain names or nicknames like, pretty, beautiful, Sweetie, princess, Darling, Doll ect, they all brought you back to what your mother used to say or what judges would call you, once you almost killed a guy for calling you "Just a pretty face". The only thing you didn't have a problem with was your height, muscles, scars and tattoo's which are all things your happy with, you worked hard for you muscles, love your tattoo's and your proud of your scars since you fought through some tough battles.

----- The battle -----

Speaking of battles, getting into a fight with the marines is how you ended up losing most of your memories in the first place, you could blame kid since he's the one who started the battle but the marines were carrying some good stuff that even you couldn't pass up on. While Kid and Killer were off fighting on other ships you were with Heat and a few other crew member's taking out the marines and trying to find what treasure they were carrying, unfortunately the treasure wasn't what you exacted, barrels of explosives. Making your way up to the deck you spot Heat about to use his fire breathing again as a bunch of marines run at him, in fear of him setting the ship ablaze causing the explosives to go off you jumped into the crowd of marines. "What the hell Y/N" Heat yells unable to use his fire with you in the way, kicking and grappling onto the marines you take a few out before Heat joins you slashing his swords to take out the rest "This ship is carrying explosives, i don't want the ship being blown up with the crew still on it" You yell as your foot connects with a marines face sending him flying back into the side of the ship, Heat sighs while slashing another marine knowing he can't use his fire breathing "If the treasure isn't here it must be on one of the other ships" The scarecrow like man calls back turning to face you now the deck is clear, turning to face him you nod before looking over at the marine ship next to this one. "I think its best if you head off to another ship, I'll set the ship to head towards the reinforcement and get the rest of the crew off" You state over the loud noise of fighting and cannon fire, Heat thinks for a second then nods "I'll inform the captain, be safe" he yells before running off and jump over to the next ship.

You know the best thing now is to get control of this ship and use it against the others marine ships that are starting to close in. Foot steps running towards you gets your attention getting you to spin around ready to fight only to see a member of your crew "Bubblegum, there are explosives on this ship get anyone off who uses gun or fire, I'm gonna gain control of the ship and set it on cause out to sea, hopefully we can get it to crash into the reinforcements" You call out to the blue haired man who nods at you heading off to tell the others on the ship. Heading to the control room you have to fight more marines on the way but soon get to the control room, opening the door you have no chose but to duck when a marine in a white coat swings his sword at you, it cuts the door in half as you slide under his legs to get behind him. The Lieutenant is fast though turning around and swinging his sword down, dodging out of the way you push off the floor using both feet to kick the man in the face. He stumbles back giving you time to stand up and jump kick him back further into the wall behind the door, with a sigh you head over to the control panel seeing the ship has set cause straight for the Victoria Punk, you had a feeling they were planning to doing the same thing as you were going to do, use the ship to blow up the other one. Before you can change its cause the marine's reflection in the glass gets your attention seeing him standing behind you and swinging his sword across to hit you. Barely managing to dodge to the side your shoulder gets cut pretty deep as his arm swings out grabbing you by the throat and throwing you window looking out onto the deck.

Glass shatters some piercing your skin as your body hits the slightly wet wooden deck rolling before managing to find your feet and skid to a stop "Y/n" Boogie a man with teal hair yells out going to run over to you when the lieutenant lands just in front of you bringing his sword down, flipping back words you avoid his swings before going under his legs again and kicking him in the back forcing him away from you "Get to the control room, this ship is on a direct cause to the Victoria." You yell as Bubblegum runs over to join Boogie, the two nod seeing you have this handled while also hearing the commanding tone you used. "So you figured it out, how smart" The marine yells running over to you while swinging his sword at you, dodging you manage to miss a few swings but get caught on the last one, the sword grazing your side as you use the palm of your hand to hit the marine in the throat. He steps back coughing from the hit as you grab his arm and round house a kick to the side of his head forcing it down onto the wooden deck while pulling his arm behind his back, he yells out in pain as his face breaks the wood under him and how your pushing his arm up further than it should go causing him to release the sword in his hand. With the lieutenant unable to move and the marine ship starting to turn around heading away from the Victoria Punk you feel a sense of relief, the marine under you stops struggling his eyes glues on something as he starts to laugh.

Pushing his head further down with your foot you growl wondering what's so funny "FIRE" The marine yells out making your eyes widen as the marine ship across from the one your on fires a cannon ball straight into the hull of the ship hitting the explosives inside. Everything happened in a flash, the ship lighting on fire as wood splinter and breaks apart, the ship creaked and roared as it split apart starting to sink into the ocean. You felt the fire hit your legs along with pieces of wood and metal before cold salty sea water engulfed you, still conscious you tried to swim to the surface above as body's and piece of the ship sink past you in the water. It was getting harder to breath but you soon made it to the top, bursting through the water you gasp for air while trying to gather your surrounding. A loud snapping sound catches your attention but you only had time to look up as the marine's mast breaks in half and falls right on top of you. Blood filled the water around you as your body was dragged down, deeper and deeper into the depth, your head hurt and your vision became blurry but a figure swam over to you just before your eyes closed letting darkness take over your vision and mind.

[klausysworld]

Heyy I love your work I was wondering if you could do a klaus one we’re the reader is a bit chubby and all of a sudden she started wearing long sleeve and oversized stuff and nobody rlly noticed until they had a party or smth and she wears a dress and when they see here there all rlly shocked cause they didn’t notice how she a lot or weight in like a span of 2-4 weeks and she hasn’t eaten for like 2 days before the party

This one-shot will contain triggering content around eating disorders including both anorexia and bulimia. Please don’t read this is you feel it may upset you or harm you mental health. I’ve had personal issues around this area and know it can be hard. Don’t hesitate to reach out 🤍

Too much or Not enough?

Y/n had struggled with weight as a child, and as a teenager. As a result she had a difficult relationship with food and clothes.

She was naturally a little curvier, but what some people saw as gorgeous another saw as an opportunity to poke fun. And so she grew up hating herself and those around her who would highlight her insecurities.

As she grew out of adolescence and into adulthood she lost a little weight. She went to the gym excessively and ate barely anything. It was unhealthy but in her eyes it was her best option.

She still had her curves but they were complimented more than they were judged but even when people said ‘good’ things about her body, she just saw it at mocking. She would have kept losing the weight but she ended up passing out at the gym and having the paramedics called. They told her she needed to keep a balanced diet and take care of herself and as much as she didn’t want to, the fear of being that embarrassed again haunted her.

So she ate some what regularly for a while but ended up with two fingers down her throat to get it all back out.

She would have carried on that way if it weren’t for the Mikaelsons.

She had ended up being wrapped into the supernatural world and suddenly there were so many other problems in her life that food was almost forgotten.

Between a temperamental pregnant Hayley, overly dramatic Rebekah, pissed off Elijah, furious Marcel, war raging Klaus, power-hungry witches, territorial werewolves and bloodthirsty vampires, Y/n didn’t have much time to focus on herself. Especially not after Hope was born.

The stress seemed to make her hungrier, she would go days without any food and then eating as much as she could to ‘keep herself going’.

She didn’t really realise she had put her weight back on, she assumed running around after everyone would have been enough exercise.

And when Klaus had shown interest in her, when he had kissed her and laid her heart out on his sleeve well she assumed she must have looked good. Someone like him wouldn’t go for who she used to be, right?

And so she gained a small amount of confidence until the supernatural communities began to calm down and it seemed people were more attentive.

Y/n was able to go out more, whether it was with Hayley, Rebekah, Davina or just by herself. And that’s how it circled back.

One or two comments on her figure from men made her wear baggier clothes. An awkward moment with Hayley and Rebekah when the girls went shopping and Rebekah unintentionally made a quip on y/n’s size. Apparently a dress that looked good on Hayley wouldn’t be nice on ‘someone like Y/n’. She had brushed it off and told Rebekah it was fine when the blonde began apologising but inside it was anything but fine.

Even if she hadn’t had any malicious intent or meant it in any offence, it tore up old wounds and brought back something much deeper rooted.

And then when things started to kick off again and Klaus payed y/n less and less attention or affection, she assumed it was because she was no longer attractive to him. Had she gained that much?

So she did what she knew would work.

She forced herself to the gym as often as she could for as long as she could. Drank as much water that was available to her and ate the bare minimum to keep her conscious. Throw up anyway meal that she did happen to consume and have a packet of gum handy incase she got too hungry.

It was even easier to do once Hope was around more, Y/n was often asked to look after the baby while the rest of them took on the new foes and unexpected family members.

When Klaus, Elijah and Marcel had announced there would be a party to celebrate the defeat of a common enemy, Y/n began to worry. The last time she had to dress of for one of those things she was much bigger than she had thought. Looking back on pictures of that evening persuaded her to gag and cough up to the point where she was only throwing up water and blood form how she had torn her throat inside.

Even Hope could sense the change in Y/n’s behaviour when she looked after her. But nobody else did, everyone was too busy to realise.

Klaus had barely looked at her let alone touched her to realise that she had done down 2 clothing sizes and yet was wearing t-shirts triple the size they would need to be. None of the girls payed enough attention to see the bags under Y/n’s eyes or to notice her absence each morning when she would struggle on a treadmill for hours on end. Only Hope, someone who wasn’t even a year old, would give Y/n the hug she so desperately needed.

———————————————————————

It was the day do the party, Y/n stared aimlessly at the dress she had chosen the week before. If she were honest she planned on not going at all, nobody would notice anyway. But then Rebekah came in all bubbly demanding that she know what colours people were wearing she they didn’t clash in photos.

Photos.

Y/n learned to despise them. “The camera adds 10 pounds” she was told by her mother when she was young and it was something she reminded herself every time a flash went off.

So she needed to make sure she looked okay.

She scrubbed her skin raw in the shower, shaved every last hair from her legs before moisturising them and the rest of her body. She avoided any full body length mirrors and focused on her face, covering every flaw possible. Her hair was pulled to be half up half down, leaving pieces to frame her face and still give her enough volume.

She managed to get the dress on that was now a little loose on her, which she should have been worried about but she couldn’t help but feel relieved. The zip went up effortlessly but even so, she didn’t want to step outside of that door. So she stayed on the edge of her bed, her nails licking at the material of her dress as she hoped the night would pass by without her.

She had no such luck when Hayley came knocking on the door

“Y/n? Are you okay? The party started a while ago” she called through the wall and Y/n pinched her own skin desperately

“I don’t think I’m gonna come down…I’ll just keep an eye on Hope” she replied

“Hope’s dressed up and downstairs with Klaus at the moment, you don’t need to watch her, come have fun!” She told her brightly and Y/n could feel herself getting hotter as the nerves poured in

“Parties aren’t really my scene” she responded softly “maybe next time okay?” She tried again but Hayley was getting persistent

“Oh come on, there’s music, drinks, food. Have you eaten yet? Come on we’ll go get something” she encouraged but that only made it worse. Y/n had made sure not to eat anything the last 2 days so that there was zero chance of any bloating and she wasn’t about to ruin that.

“I ate earlier” she lied and Hayley sighed

“Try make an appearance? If not for me then for Rebekah or Klaus” she asked and Y/n could have scoffed. As if either of them had cared less that she was there.

Well so she assumed.

Unfortunately for her she was proven wrong again when the door hand was twisted and pulled, a frustrated groan coming from the other side of the door when they realised it was locked

“Y/n?” Klaus questioned “come out” he ordered and she had the sudden urged to suffocate herself with a pillow.

“I’m going to sleep” she mumbled, though she was still dolled up and sat against the headboard but it wasn’t like he could see her.

“We can fix that, open the door and I’ll grab you a dress” he told her and she pinched the bridge of her nose

“I already have a dress” she muttered in defeat, Klaus wouldn’t walk away as easily as Hayley.

“Perfect. Put it on.” He grumbled “Rebekah needs you in the photo” he added and she nodded, of course they needed to keep their image up.

“I don’t want to be in the photo anyway” she murmured and he groaned

“Just do it” he complained and she reluctantly stood up.

She plodded her way to look in the mirror and yet despite the makeup on her face, she just looked tired. It didn’t matter anymore though, she looked bad in pictures either way, may as-well know it this time.

Just as Klaus was reader to break the handle off the door, it was clicked open and Y/n was looking up at him through glassy eyes.

Klaus’s expression dropped almost instantly when he looked at her. The dress was loose around her body in all areas, her arms thinner than usual making him frown and reach a hand out to grab ahold of her wrist. His eyes locked on hers and his lips parted in shock.

She assumed he was thinking she looked awful, was the dress too small again? Was she too big? She could feel her face heating and her eyes filling with tears. Her breathing grew more laboured and her hands began to ping at the fabric around her to make it seem baggier.

Klaus quickly pulled her into his room so nobody could look up the stairs and see them. He stroked her hair gently as he wrapped his arms around her in an attempt to stop any tears from falling.

“Sweetheart” he whispered quietly, guilt beginning to rise in him. People didn’t loose this much weight this fast. He knew he had been distant the last month but that was to keep her safe not to make her sick, was she I’ll and not told anybody? Or was this something much more?

He feared for the last one as he rubbed her back soothingly while small sniffs lift her and panicked apologies flooded form her lips.

“Why are you sorry my love?” He murmured gently.

“I just wanted to be pretty” she uttered and his heart ached for her. “I tried really hard” she whispered “it wasn’t enough”

“Y/n…” he murmured as his arms held her a little tighter “you’re always pretty, you’re beautiful and bright” he told her “don’t change anything about yourself for anyone else ever”

“I did it for me too” she mumbled and he nodded hesitantly

“Yeah but…this isn’t the way” he whispered and she sniffed

“It’s the only way that works” she argued

“Love, what have you been eating?” He asks and she frowns

“Why does that matter?”

“Because there’s a difference between eating healthily and not eating enough” he told her and she began to grow more upset at his tone

“I eat too much” she utters and he sighs, he placed both hands on her shoulders and looks down at her

“Nobody thinks that” he whispered, his eyes locked on hers as though it would make her listen better. “Not eating at all is as bad as eating too much, we can find a good balance” he persuaded

“I’ve tried balanced diets, it doesn’t work” she shakes her head frustrated

“I’ll find you a better one” he decided and she lets out a laugh

“Why because I suddenly matter enough? If you only just realised that I’ve lost the weight when we live in the same home then Im clearly not worth-“

“Stop” he whispered, a crack in his tone “do not do this to me and do not do this to yourself” he let out a breath “I wouldn’t ever want this to happen to you, I care about you. I was just leaving you out of all the darkness and the pain, you weren’t supposed to bring it to yourself” he snapped. His eyes were hard though he didn’t mean to appear so angry as tears freely flowed down Y/n’s face and a sob let her lips.

At the sound of her cries, Klaus’s bedroom door was opened rather suddenly. A concerned Elijah stepped inside, his eyes falling to Y/n and his brows furrowing as he noticed his brother trying to apologise. Then he noticed the differences from the last few times he had seen her and he picked up on what was happening pretty quickly.

He closed the door behind him and came forward, coaxing Y/n out of Klaus’s arms and into his own.

“Would you like a smoothie my dear? We’ve stocked the kitchen with fruits recently” Elijah murmured softly, his chin on top her head as he glanced to an upset Niklaus. Y/n frowned in confusion at the offer and at the calming affect Elijah seemed to have over everyone. He wasn’t really the hugging type but it was nice to experience one. She didn’t reply but he kept talking “how about I go and get you a smoothie while Niklaus helps you out of this dress? I’m sure you can wear one of his shirts for bed hm?” He lifted her chin up to look down at her. She blinked at him unsure as he tried to convince her further “I’ll bring Hope up as well?” He offered and she nodded slowly.

Elijah gave a look to Klaus and both brothers began to move. Elijah rushed off downstairs and Klaus grabbed one of his henleys. Y/n kept her eyes on the ground as Klaus’s fingers gently undid the dress

“I’m sorry my love” he whispered as he let the material drop down to the floor making goosebumps arise across her skin. His lips pressed to her shoulder softly before the warmth of his top was pulled over her head and her arms were pulled into the sleeves. His arms slid round her waist gently and his nose buried into her hair.

She kept quiet, eyes down as he unclipped her curls and let it all fall loosely around her face. Soft kisses planted their way up her face as Elijah returned with a smoothie and a straw.

Both brothers guided her to sit up on Klaus’s bed before sitting either side of her. Gently she was pulled into Klaus’s lap and the straw was brought to her lips

“The cup is only half full, the rest of it is in the fridge for tomorrow if you should want more” Elijah tells her with a reassuring smile

Klaus brushed his hands along her sides gently as she reluctantly drank what she was given. Both brothers continued to speak of random topics to keep the attention off of her as she took small sips as slowly leant back against Klaus’s chest.

15 minutes later Hayley came by and dropped Hope off, both she and Elijah left, leaving Klaus, Y/n and Hope to snuggle up together with the silent promise that at least Klaus and Elijah and most likely the rest of the Mikaelsons would be helping Y/n find a happier,healthier state of mind and body.

(I hope this was what was wanted, I didn’t go too deep into the topic and still wanted it to have a relatively happier/promising ending. If a darker message or ending was wanted then I would be okay with trying to write something similar for anyone out there. I understand the struggles with eating disorders and also with self harm and just mental health in general so feel free to message or request, anything at all :))

[barrenclan]

ok ONE more music ask bc i think this is the third one i’ve submitted for the new issue so far:

so i went back & read issue 37 while listening to “drunk walk home” by mitski (both the original and the live at palisades version), timing my reading with the listening so that certain panels & passages would line up with the right points in the song, and dear. fucking. LORD. i wanna make a rainhaze pmv with this so badly. the only question is which version of the song to use

so the best way i can explain it:

*drumbeat intro* - the title page

“i will retire to the salton sea/at the age of 23” - that comic panel at the beginning showing how much he changed

“for i’ve started to learn i may never be free/but though I may never be free/fuck you and your money/i’m tired of your money” - idk exactly how it’d line up with the issue but something something him being influenced by defiance & ranger, something something “you can love someone and still hate/hurt them”

*guitar picks up* - the canine realization and/or slug’s reaction to the murder reveal. some combination of the two.

“and i sit on the curb ‘cause it’s the prettiest night/with no one else in sight/don’t you know i wore this dress for you/these killer heels for you” - rain gets all defensive & tries to justify the murder with the sleep thing & the hypocrisy

“see the dark, it moves/with every breath of the breeze” (+ the buildup before the guitar solo) - “convince them…okay”

*guitar solo* - slug attacks him, big fight scene

and of course the screaming at the end correlates to him screaming as he’s gutted like a baked potato

Nice!! I always love how much thought you put into song choices.

As a Johnny Cash enjoyer I must say I do prefer his cover but of course I love Nine Inch Nails too. More dark and gritty does fit Rainhaze better.

I've never actually listened to or seen Repo, but it does seem like something that would be up my alley. It does fit him too, driving in what he's done and forcing him to remember killing Asphodelpaw.

I remember every dying whisper Every desperate murmur I remember when I gaze upon her She looks just like you I remember, I remember

I like this from Rainhaze's perspective, like he's constantly trying to guess what Ranger wants from him, how much he has to hurt himself to please Ranger.

The waves suck you in then you drown If like, you'd just stay down with me I'll swim down with you Is that what you want?

You hang the anchors over my neck (Saw your end) I liked it at first but the more you laughed The crazier I became

Haha aww, Pinepaw.

I lost some weight from anxious pacing talking on the telephone If I look cool I'm fooling you At any point you can assume My mind's computing every path that screws up what I wanna do

The things that I can't shoulder well I pass onto my older self And hope I learn to cope so I don't end up broke or overwhelmed 'Cause vocally, I'm not the best

Poinsettia is an interesting pull, but I can see it. I hate to say Rainhaze once again but yknow... kinda Rainhaze...

The feelings of regret And now I'm running to forget But know, the consequence of imagination's fear I met a man downtown the other day With ruby eyes that took my life away

Thе antidote we look so hard to find To purge yourself of fear, relax your mind But heaven only knows Where my mind leads, the feeling grows

Someone has actually recently made an incredible animatic set to Ptolemaea, actually! You can see it here.

That's alright, I usually do all the lyric quoting!

Pick up another cigarette Smoke it now and soon you'll forget If only your silver lining had better timing 'Cause there's no crown for one on the way down

Your dull blade and your dusty attire Can bring back all those burning desires So go back to the pit or roll over

I'd love to see the animation if you ever make it! It does have big synergy with "The Death of BarrenClan" event.

Heed the sirens, take shelter, my lover Flee the fire that devours But the sight held me fixed like a bayonet against my throat

It was a pale white horse With a crooked smile And I knew it was my time

Not a song in the world that doesn't make me think of Rainhaze... anyways, I always like a good Hoosiers song.

Everything you love turns to dust, You'd make more of it but you felt rushed By all that's periphery, You held tight, but on the contrary

Don't look your life passed you by, 'Cause you're too attached to it, Don't look your life passed you by, 'Cause you're too attached to it

[reminiscingtonight]

Half A World Away

Lucy Bronze x Reader

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Don’t say y’all didn’t ask for it. Based on “Half A World Away” by Remme and Clara Mae.

[Part Two]

[WOSO Masterlist]

You’ve forgotten how loud the rain can get in Seattle. 

It’s midnight where you’re at, the loud splatter of drops doing nothing to help soothe the storm raging in your head. Though you’ve long gone to bed, the empty apartment and emptier heart making you far more tired than it should, you haven’t been able to fall asleep.

After spending the past couple years in England, you’ve finally decided to come back home to play. Your national team teammates were more than stoked when they found out about the transfer, welcoming you with open arms and tight hugs. 

To be fair, this had been a long time coming. Although you hadn’t planned to return so soon, returning had been in your plans. You just thought that you’d be coming to play out the last year or so of your career with the love of your life by your side.

But sometimes things just don’t turn out the way you want it to. You still had many years left to go, retirement still eons away. And then there’s the issue of the person you’ve spent the last couple years loving. She’s not here next to you, and if you’re being honest, you don’t think she’ll ever be. 

As much as you want Seattle to be home, you know the truth. 

Home will always be back on the other side of the world. 

---

Waking up to Lucy will always be your favorite thing to do. She’s got her arms wrapped tight around you, as if you’d run away sometime in the middle of the night. 

You press a light kiss against her forehead before extricating yourself from her arms. Lucy’s a deep sleeper, so climbing out of bed isn’t hard to do. What’s harder is trying to cook breakfast without setting fire to the kitchen. There’s a reason Lucy’s always the one cooking whenever you guys find yourselves in need of food. 

Somehow you make it through unscathed, making your way back to your shared room with a tray loaded with homemade waffles and a small fruit salad, some coffee balanced precariously on the edge. To your delight, Lucy’s still fast asleep when you toe open the door.

Setting the tray off to the side, you climb back into bed. Lucy only starts stirring when you start pressing some light kisses against her face. 

Her nose scrunches up first, but it isn’t until she lazily blinks her eyes open that you’re sure she’s awake. Lucy gives you a tired smile. 

“Hi.”

“Morning,” you chirp back, leaning back in again, but this time for an actual kiss. 

Lucy rests her hands along the back of your neck, letting you put your full weight on her. You’re smiling when you break apart.

“When do you leave?”

The reminder that your time together is limited makes you frown. City and Arsenal played a game yesterday, hence your ability to spend last night with Lucy. Although you finessed this little getaway, Jordan and Leah were currently enjoying a late brunch with Keira, the two gunners ready to pick you up in a couple hours to head back to London. Though you appreciated the leeway they were giving you, you know you can’t leave them hanging for too long.

“I’ve got a couple hours.”

Whatever Lucy’s about to respond stops when she turns to grab her glasses off the bedside table. She squints when she catches sight of the tray. 

“You made me breakfast in bed?”

“You sound surprised,” you tease.

She looks a little bashful. “I mean… you’re never one to be eager to cook.”

“Keep up this attitude and I might never again.”

Both of you are laughing when Lucy lunges up at you, blowing a raspberry against your cheek before she’s suddenly flipping the two of you over. You gasp, not expecting the action, but Lucy keeps you pinned to the bed.

You’re holding your breath when she ducks down, sucking a mark into the side of your neck. 

“A couple hours you said?”

The words are mumbled out, but you can still feel her smirk. 

When you end up being late to the pick up site, Jordan teases you until you’re bright red in the face.  

---

Lucy tells you about Barcelona while the two of you are in California. You’re seeing the sights, visiting some of your friends with some of her English teammates when she tells you about her new contract.

“It’s a great opportunity.” 

You don’t say anything else. You wonder if she thinks you’ll stop her from going.

“Let’s just enjoy the rest of our vacation, okay?”

The answer is no, you would never stop her from following her dreams.

What you don’t realize is that Lucy never had you in her plans for Barcelona.

Lucy’s packing, about to leave for camp when she breaks up with you. You have to leave for your own camp soon, but you haven’t left yet, still dressed in one of her sweaters when she utters the words.

Long distance isn’t something she wants to do, she tells you. You know how her relationship with Keira ended, how much the distance killed them before they could really start.

But you thought you guys were different. After all, you made the brief distance between your respective clubs work. 

Lucy’s not meeting your eyes when you try to convince her otherwise. 

In the end it doesn’t matter. 

“Please don’t go,” you whisper, trying to ignore the fact that Jordan told you about a ring months ago. 

“I… I’m sorry. I really am.” Lucy really does look heartbroken when she leaves you sitting alone in her apartment. 

You have to fake being okay when your friends win the Euros. You cheer with Jordan, let the smaller girl drag you to the last couple games. You do everything you can, but you still miss her even though she hasn’t left yet. 

And when the airplane finally takes Lucy away to Barcelona, you feel your heart leave with her. 

---

Sonnett tries to get you to go biking with her. 

Something she took away from her time in DC was her love for biking. She’s somehow roped Rose into doing it, Rose got Sofia to do it, and now they all have their sights set on you. 

You don’t have the heart to tell them biking only takes you back to England, that it makes you think of the girl who you loved so fully but broke your heart. 

The first time Lucy takes you on a bike ride, it’s 12am and the two of you have just returned from a date night at a bowling alley. You give the defender an affronted look when she drags you towards the bike shop. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” 

“I think we have different definitions of the word ‘fun’,” you tsk. 

You still let her drag you into the store. You’re not really listening when she talks with the clerk, pointing out the bikes she wanted to purchase. 

When she plops a helmet on your head, you give her your best glare. Both of you know there’s no real heat behind it. Lucy tilts your head back and you accept her kiss without a fuss. 

“Love you,” she murmurs.

Your eyes are sparkling with mirth when you pull away. “You already got me to agree to go midnight biking with you. There’s no need to sweet talk me.”

Lucy rolls her eyes, but there’s no hiding her grin. “Alright sweet cheeks, path’s this way.”

Everything’s normal the first couple minutes. You pedal quietly side by side, the path being big enough for the two of you. When Lucy slyly glances at you before winking, you know she’s about to do something stupid. 

You’re proven correct not long after. Lucy throws both of her hands up into the air, letting out a whoop as she somehow keeps her balance.

“You’re literally going to get us into trouble,” you laugh, making sure to keep your own hands on your handle bars.

“With who?” Lucy snorts. She does put her hands back on her bars though. “We’re not in season right now, so it’s just you and me. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

You chuckle. “Babe, I’m not going to lie about how you got hurt when we go to the ER later because you fell off your bike.”

“Oh ye of little faith.”

It’s beautiful, the path she takes you on.

The two of you bike past rivers, through parks, nothing but the sparkling stars and moon lighting your paths. Though the sights you see are beautiful, you know none of it compares to the beauty of your girlfriend. Every time you catch sight of her that night, the flutter in your heart only magnifies.

From there on out, biking becomes sort of a ritual for the two of you. After a particularly hard game or a fight of some sort, the two of you always recouped the same way --- midnight bike rides. The distance of course made biking together a difficult thing, but you always made the most of it when you guys were finally reunited.

But you don’t know how to tell your friends any of that. 

So you don’t.

Still, you can’t help but compare the feel of Sonny’s hands on your waist, her voice echoing loud next to your ears when she hops onto the back of your bike to Lucy’s. You have to scoot a little forward so the blonde doesn’t fall back, but you get flashbacks to when Lucy used to do the same. Sonnett’s yelling something about how you pedal slower than her grandma, Rose giggling somewhere close behind, but everything about this just feels wrong. 

Sonny isn’t Lucy. Seattle isn’t London or Manchester. 

You’re surrounded by some of your best friends, but still you feel alone. 

Something tells you it’s time you get used to this feeling, because the truth is, Lucy’s not coming back. Lucy’s not coming back and you’re not going home. 

England and Lucy will always hold a special part in your heart, but this is your new normal and there’s nothing you can do but get used to it. 

---

You tried, you really did. 

You play the new season for a couple months, trying to ignore the empty feeling left behind by Lucy’s absence. But it’s hard to find joy in the sport and the city you’re not used to being alone in. 

Whenever the WSL season started, you and Lucy would take turns making the trip out to the other’s city. Even when you weren’t physically next to the other, you’d stay connected through the phone, text messages and facetimes keeping your relationship alive. 

The rational part of you knows it’s stupid. Leaving in the middle of the season? Leaving the place you’ve called home for the past couple years?

There’s also the little voice in your head that won’t stop yelling about the fact that Seattle is further away than London. If Lucy didn’t want a long distance relationship between Barcelona and London, she definitely wouldn’t want one with you in Seattle.

It’s easier to ignore that voice. It’s not like Lucy left the door open for the two of you when she left. Your relationship was over, and you just had to deal with it. 

Apparently your way of “dealing with it” involves hopping on a plane to the other side of the world.

Leah’s the one you tell first. She’s become one of the people you’ve gotten closest to ever since you arrived in England all those years ago. The blonde thinks you’re joking until you ask her if she wants your plant collection.

“Look, I don’t want to be cruel, but don’t you think you’re taking this a little too far? Lucy broke up with you, and I get it, that sucks, but you shouldn’t run away.”

“I’m not running away,” you huff, knowing exactly what Leah’s trying to get at.

“Leaving for a team that hasn’t even started their season yet seems like running away.”

“Lucy left first, so why can’t I?” Though snapped out, your words still come out a little broken.

You look away then, trying to hide your tears before Leah can spot them. 

Leah simply sighs, ignoring the hurt in your voice. Her voice is a little gentler this time around. “I want you to be doing this for yourself, not because of Lucy.”

You’re quiet for a moment, really thinking it through. If you’re being honest, the thought of playing back home has always been a nagging thought. With no one to come home to anymore, it just made the decision all the more easier. “I... I think I’ve been wanting to go home for a while. Lucy ending things just-- it just made it more clear for me.”

Every time you go to camp, you can’t help but feel a little bit left out whenever your friends tell you about all they get up to in the states. They’re always suspended in awe whenever you tell them about your life in England, but leaving your friends is never easy when camp comes to an end. 

It’s always been easier leaving your friends and family behind when you had Lucy waiting to come home to. You’ve had a hard time leaving them these past couple times though. It’s no surprise it’s coincided with your break up. 

“I’m sorry I’m not finishing out the season. I never wanted to leave you guys hanging.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Leah sighs, giving you her best smile. It still looks a little sad, but at least she’s trying. “We’ll definitely miss playing with you over here, but you’re going to kill it in Seattle.”

“I’ll miss you guys too. Don’t think the distance will stop me from being a gooner though.”

“Once a gooner,” she starts, smile growing just a bit sadder. 

You pull the younger girl in for a hug before either of you can start crying. If this is how your talk with Leah is going, you can’t imagine how many tears will be shed when you break the news to the rest of the team tomorrow.

Your time in England will have always given you the love of your life. All the happy moments and the sad, it all began and ended here. It all began and ended with Lucy. What happens from here on out, well that you’ll have to figure out for yourself.

---

Lucy’s always hated the early morning practices. 

She much rather wake up to your soft breaths puffing against her cheek, arms wrapped loosely around her waist. Her lips slightly curl up at the memory. She never told you, but she’s always loved the feeling of you sprawled on top of her, no matter what time of day it happens.

It feels like a dagger to the heart when she remembers why it’ll no longer be a thing. Why even when the season ends she won’t be able to go home to you.

Lucy heard about your move back to the states through the grapevines. 

When Jordan first told her that you were leaving Arsenal, Lucy couldn’t believe her ears. You were a diehard gooner, elated beyond words when you signed your contract with them. You had stuck by through the ups and downs of your career, even when your national team position was threatened by the mere fact that you weren’t playing in the states. Your love for the game, more specifically the soccer culture in England, made you stay strong in your refusal to leave. It all worked out in the end, but she remembers those nights you stayed awake, training harder to prove yourself from other contenders all those miles away.

Lucy always remembers you mentioning moving back to the states to end out your career, but you didn’t seem anywhere close to hanging up your boots. 

Jordan said something about you leaving before the season ended so you could catch the start of the NWSL, but by then, Lucy wasn’t listening. 

Like always, she finds herself staring down at your contact before practice starts. She always happens to find the abandoned message thread right after lacing up her boots. Just like the first time she pulled it up, there’s nothing typed out. There’s so much she wants to say, but she doesn’t know where to start.

Lucy knows that it’s nighttime in Seattle right now. She wonders if you’re sleeping alone, trying to forget the memory of her as she tries of you every night. The selfish part of her hopes that it also doesn’t work for you. 

She knows she has no right to wonder how you’re doing. She’s the one who broke things off. But late at night, when Lucy’s got nothing but the memories of the two of you to keep her company, she can’t help but imagine what it would be like for you to take her back. If you were to allow her to love you again. 

“Lucy!” Mapi’s voice, somewhere close in the locker room, jolts Lucy out of her thoughts. 

The corner of her lips drop when she notices the time. Quickly closing the messages app, Lucy tosses her phone into her bag. She rubs a tired hand up and down her face before shouting a quick “Coming!”

As she makes her way out of the locker room, there’s only one thing on her mind.

Maybe tomorrow will be different. 

Maybe tomorrow Lucy will finally come up with the nerves to tell you how much she misses you. To tell you how much she wished she didn’t let you go. 

She’s got nothing but her maybes, so until then, she’ll have to deal with her heart being half a world away.

[dumbasspimpster]

Katherine

Back then. "You make me sick" said Katherine. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I squirmed and looked down at the table. I pushed my used napkin back and forth. I wanted to die. "I can't help it."

"It's hard enough that everyone wants me to *lose* weight! And now... this? Do you have any idea what that's like?!" she shouted. Her mascara was starting to run. She folded her arms as if she wanted to shrink into the booth.

"But you're beautiful, and I am telling you that I think so!"

"No! You can't find *this* attractive!" she said, gesturing over her body with her hands for emphasis. "I just... can't!"

But even as I sat there watching her slip away from me, puffy eyes, mascara running, tears soaking her shirt, I considered her the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Such a beautiful face, such lovely skin, such luscious hair, such pretty eyes. She was perfect in so many ways. And yet she couldn't overlook the one flaw that everyone attributed to her, that I had told her wasn't even a flaw to me, that genuinely made her even more attractive and worthy to me. And I was going to lose her for it. Why did I ever have to bring it up?

"You're wrong" I said. "You're perfect to me."

She looked back at me and her face contorted in anger. "I don't want to be perfect to you!" she shouted. "I just want to be perfect... period!"

I said nothing. We just glared at each other.

"I'm going to lose the weight" she said finally.

"Fine" I said. "You'll still be beautiful." I honestly believed that she would be.

"Yeah right!" she said. "So go find yourself an actual fat chick!"

"I guess I will" I said. "Because you have some real fucking issues."

"I have issues?! You're the one who LIKES FUCKING FAT CHICKS!" she shouted. The whole restaurant went quiet. Everyone was looking at us, the teenage couple having a fight.

"I'm going now" I said, summoning up my dignity. I got up, took a 20 dollar bill from my wallet, and put it down on the table. "To find myself an actual fat chick, without all the issues" I said cruelly. "Goodbye."

I started walking away. "No" she said. "Wait Bry! Bryan, wait!" she cried after me. But I was out the door. I kept my back turned so she wouldn't see that I was crying too.

---

Present day. I am successful and married with two children with my wife Alyssa.

Alyssa is my best friend. We met at a sales seminar back in our mid-twenties. She was a chubby blonde with a sweet smile and a sunny disposition. We hit it off instantly and have got along famously since. We have pretty much all the same interests. We have a loving, trusting relationship.

A few years ago, Alyssa discovered running. It's gone great for her, and she's slimmed down considerably since. I love her and support her and am happy that she feels better about herself and is healthier. I hope she lives long and we raise our kids and grandkids and die in the old folks' home together.

But our sex life has suffered. We've gone from having sex three or more times a week to once every week or two. We're busy parents so it's difficult already. Things just aren't what they used to be for us.

There is an urge growing inside me to stray. It's everywhere I go, in crowds of people, my eye is drawn to attractive women and their bodies. Searching for opportunities that I can't act on. Fantasizing about what it would be like.

Alyssa and I talked about it, years ago, about having an open relationship. On one hand, she said of course we shouldn't expect to have sex with the same person for the rest of our lives. On the other hand, she was crying. We never talked about it since. It's too painful to think of.

I'm on a trip back to my hometown for work. I haven't been back since high school. I ring up some of my old buddies and we get together for beers. We get right hammered and the conversation turns from our careers and our families to our past conquests.

"Hey" says Mark. "What was the name of that chick you were dating in Grade 11?"

"Which one?" I reply. "There were a couple."

"The chubby one. With the pretty eyes" said Mark, drunkenly. "The one who broke up with you."

My heart sinks. It's painful for me to remember. "Kat" I reply.

"Yeah, her" says Mark. "Pretty face. Too bad she was so chubby."

"Broke my heart" I say.

"You should call her up" says Mark.

"No way!" I say.

"Yeah way!" he says. "Wait, I can find her on Facebook."

Facebook. Shit, I thought. It's impossible to just forget someone and leave them behind anymore in this day and age.

Mark plays around with his phone. "Aha!" he said. "Found her! See, pretty face."

He shows me the phone screen. My heart drops on seeing Kat again. The photo is old, she is young and beautiful and as I remember her.

"She doesn't want to hear from me" I say.

"Don't be a pussy" says Mark. "Here, I'm going to message her for you."

"No!" I say, and I reach for the phone but Mark turns away and taps at his screen. I hesitate. A part of me wants to go with the flow.

"There!" he says. He shows me the message he sent with the friend request.

"Oh God, Mark. I'm married, don't you know?"

"Yeah, to a woman 1000 miles away" he responds.

Mark taps away at his phone some more. We order another round of beers. The bar is starting to empty out.

"Oh shit!" says Mark. "She replied!"

"Why do you gotta do this" I ask him, taking his phone. The reply is short and includes her new phone number. I pull out my phone and start texting her.

"Kat?"

"Its been a while"

My judgement is impaired and my inhibitions are gone. Over text, we pick up on the page we left off on.

---

One hour later, I take an Uber to Kats apartment. My nervousness is palpable. Every minute I am in the car feels unbearable. Every step up to her apartment feels like an undertaking.

I reach the door. I take a few minutes to gather up my courage, and then I knock. I hear her footsteps, then the latch of the door. Over a decade later and she could have become anything, and I am about to find out in moments. The door opens.

Kat is just as beautiful. And she's become massive.

"Kat..." I stutter, still drunk.

"Hello, Bry" she replies. I gawk at her for a moment. "Surprise!" she says, sardonically, "I got fat!"

"You're just as beautiful as I remember" I say. "More beautiful."

"Shut up and come inside" she says. "You're drunk."

I step inside. Her apartment is small but clean, with no sign of any cats. She leads me to the living room and sits me down with a tender touch on the shoulder. "Sit down" she says, "I'll make you some coffee."

She leaves to the kitchen and I watch her go. I am floored by the sheer size of her. She catches me watching over her should and my face flushes. I sit there and try to compose myself for the next few minutes. When she comes back with the coffee, I smile at her, but she doesn't return it. She pours the coffee without looking at me and sits down next to me. As she sits down, the couch creaks and the floor groans and the fat of her hip expands towards me, leaving very little space between us. She crosses her arms and seems to want to shrink into the couch.

"Thanks for the coffee" I say.

"Why are you here?" she asks.

"I'm meeting a client in town" I respond.

"I don't even know what you do" she says. "No, I mean, why are you *here*?" Meaning in her apartment with her.

"I wanted to reconnect" I say.

"Reconnect?" she says.

"Yeah" I reply. "Why did you invite me here?"

"I don't know" she says, twirling her hair. It's a gesture of vulnerability that I wouldn't have recognized from her when we were younger. She was so confident back then, so insecure at the same time. Putting up a façade all the time. She has changed over the years.

She looks at my ring. "I see you're married."

"I see you're not married" I replied.

"Well, shouldn't surprise anyone." she says. Meaning her body. There is an awkward silence and we say no more on the subject of marriages.

"Why did you break up with me?" I ask.

"Break up with you? Why did you break up with me?" she replies.

"You told me I disgusted you" I reply.

"Well I wonder why?" she says. "You told me I would be more attractive if I gained weight."

"No" I say. "Not exactly."

"Yes!" she says. "I said I was worried about gaining weight, and you said, 'Don't worry' because I will only be even more attractive."

"Okay" I say, "What's wrong with that?"

"I had body image issues!" she says. "It messed me up."

"I didn't know that" I say.

"Yeah!" she says. "It took me a while. But I'm over it."

I sip my coffee for a while. She waddles over the to kitchen and returned with a baking dish full of brownie. She picks out a square and started eating it, spilling crumbs down her shirt and between her breasts.

"I eat when I'm upset" she says.

"So do I" I say, stupidly. She gives a mirthful laugh at this.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask.

"Sure" she says.

"Did you love me?" I reply.

"Love you?" she replies. "Love you?" as if it is a joke. "Look at me, Bry. I am disgusting. I absolutely ruined myself because of you."

"Wait, are you actually laying that on me?" I reply.

"Bry" she says. "Look at me. Look at me. No seriously, look at me." I look down at her enormous curves, she is exploding with soft fat. "You told me you like fat chicks. You told me you find this attractive."

"I do" I said.

"Then what don't you get?" she huffs, exasperated.

"What do you mean?"

"Yes, Bry. I loved you. I fucking loved you! Don't you get that?!" Kat burst into tears. She grabs for a box of Kleenex on the table but it is empty. At this, she cries harder.

I reach out and stroke her arm to comfort her. She doesn't react. "Do you want me to get you some Kleenex?" I ask.

"No, Bry. You know what you can do for me?"

"What's that?"

She picks up and offers me the dish of brownies and I take it, confused. There are still several left. Then she grabs my thigh and leans in close to me and says "I want you to shove those brownies in my fucking face."

I nearly pull away but I hesitate for just a moment. It's enough. She works her hand over and grabs my cock, already hard, and starts massaging it through my pants. I take a brownie and stuff it into her open mouth and she chews away, sobbing. I reach over and grab a roll and start feeling around her body. Everywhere I go there are soft crevices to explore.

I feed her the rest of the brownies as I rub her tummy and tell her what a disgusting fat pig she has become. She is crying at the same time and tells me how much she hates me. When she is done, I make her get down on her hands and knees and lick the dish clean. I get behind her and pull down her pants and start to finger fuck her. She moans loudly.

She turns over onto her back and pulls me down on the floor with her. We kiss passionately and she takes my hand and places it somewhere in the softness of her underbelly and jiggles it. "Jiggle me, Bry" she says. "Jiggle my fat fucking belly."

"You fucking whale" I say. "You're fucking huge."

"Am I bigger than your wife?" she asks.

"You're way fucking fatter than her. You're like, three times her size."

"Am I the biggest woman you've ever been with?" she asks.

"You will be" I say. "By far."

"You did this to me" she says. "You made me ruin myself. Do you like it?"

"Yeah" I said. "I want you to be my disgusting fuckpig."

"Good" she says, "You break it, you bought it", and reaches down for my cock.

We fumble around for a bit and try with different positions to get me in. In the end, she has to lift up her belly and I have to mount her at an angle and she pulls me in.

Her fat pussy is tight and I struggle not to come instantly. I grab at her belly, her breasts, her pillows of upper arm fat, the softness of her chin, whatever I can. She jiggles like a waterbed.

I manage to restrain myself, and she comes first. "Oh, Bry!" she says. "Oh, Bry! Fuck me! FUCK ME!" She squirts all over my dick. "Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck HOLY FUCK!" she screams.

"Holy fuck" I say.

"Did I squirt?" she asks.

"Yes" I say.

"Holy fuck" she says. "Did you come?"

"No" I reply.

"Okay" she says. "Here." She pushes me and I pull out and roll off of her and onto the floor. She struggles and rolls over onto her hands and knees, then turns herself around and straddles me and backs her enormous ass up until my face is engulfed. I struggle to ask "What...?" but I am muffled between the fat of her thighs. I lick and taste the sweetness of her cum.

She lowers herself down and I can feel her two huge globes of breast fat spread out over my lap on either side of my dick. Her belly engulfs my torso, spreading out over my sides. She takes me up in her mouth and goes to work.

I come quickly, within only a minute or two, and she moans and sucks greedily and swallows. "Mmmmm" she says, "your cum tastes good." She collapses forward onto me, freeing my face from between the fat of her legs. She is breathing heavily. I can breath again, but it is laborious beneath her weight. We lay there for a while.

"Kat?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"How much do you weigh?"

"Bry" she says back. "I don't want to talk dirty anymore now."

"OK" I reply.

"Bry?" she asks. "Can we cuddle?"

I help her to her feet and she leads me over to her bedroom and she flops down on her back on the sheets and I plop down on top of her. We lay there like that, holding each other without saying anything. There is music playing quietly from a CD player on her dresser. We stay there and listen for a while until the songs start repeating. I am calm and breathing slowly but somehow too excited to fall asleep.

"Bry?" she asks, after a long time. "Do you still love me?"

I don't respond for a while. I think about Alyssa and the connection we share. I think about my kids with no small amount of guilt. I reflect back on my relationship with Kat in high school and the difference I have been searching for in every relationship since. I am sober enough now to know the answer confidently. "Yes."

"I still love you too" she says.

We kiss and make out and she climbs on top of me and inserts me and wraps her arms around me and we make love like that, her on top smothering me with her softness, pulling me deeper inside her amidst her thigh and pubic fat with each thrust of her hips. I explore and caress and jiggle and worship all of her soft parts, which is to say every part of her body.

"Oh, Kat" I say. "You're a goddess. A fucking sex goddess."

"I'm your sex goddess" she says. "These curves are for you."

"You're beautiful" I say. "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful."

She just moans in response. She gets off me and I sidle up next to her and spoon her and she parts her legs and pulls me in, with some considerable difficulty due to her enormous ass between us pushing me away from her. We barely achieve penetration, but it is worth it. We climax together. "Oh fuck oh fuck OH FUCK!" she screams, and I feel her hot cum well up in my crotch.

It takes us both a while to catch our breath. There is another long moment of holding each other. But this time, it feels different.

Kat turns around and faces me and her face is full of sadness and dread. "Bry" she says. "I don't want you to leave me again."

"I don't want to leave" I say. "But I have to."

"Bry, don't go. Please." she says. "I'll do anything."

"I have to" I reply.

"No you don't" she says. "Leave your other life behind. You can stay right here with me and love me and feed me until I'm the size of the fridge."

"Kat" I reply, "you don't know what you're saying."

"The size of the fridge, Bry" she says. "We can have sex like this every day, only it will just keep getting better."

"Kat, stop."

"100 more pounds. 200 more. 300 more. Whatever you want."

"Kat, please stop."

"Don't you get it, Bry? It's because of you! There is nothing I want more than to keep wrecking myself, just for your pleasure. It's all I have."

"Kat, you'll eat yourself into the grave."

"Oh fuck yeah" she says, and she reaches down around her belly and starts touching herself. "Oh fuck yeah, say it again."

"You'll eat yourself into the grave." I repeat. "Is this what you want?"

She is fingering herself intensely and grabs me tightly by the bicep. "Fuck yeah" she says, "I want to eat until I fucking explode."

"You won't explode," I say, "you'll have a heart attack."

"Fuck. Yes" she says, jiggling and quaking with exertion. She is struggling to keep fingering herself so violently and so I reach down and help her.

"Is this what you want?" I ask as I work with my fingers to get her off. "To be a fat fucking blob? To die young?"

"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. YES!" she screams. She contorts and adducts her thighs together and my hand is trapped in soft fat for a moment as she comes. She jerks and quakes as she comes down from the orgasm. "Oh, Bry..."

I am up and putting my clothes on. "I'm leaving" I say.

"Bry, wait" she moans, but I leave her there, a soft quaking orgasmic mound of fat on the bed.

[skaruresonic]

Yes, because when he told Blaze not to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders in Rush, he was speaking from firsthand experience of guarding the Chaos Emeralds under the threat of apocalypse. He didn't step out of his own shoes for two seconds and think to himself, "But it seems like she's had a rough past" …wait

IDW!Sonic would be more like

"He's just like me fr fr" strikes again. Once more we have Games!Sonic heavily implied to be unrealistic, as if A.) he has no emotions, and B.) the only way he can empathize with others is by making things really about himself.

"Nobody can be endlessly positive" - okay, but Games!Sonic... isn't.

He has doubts. He gets tired. He makes mistakes. He feels sadness and guilt. He has a temper, gets frustrated, gets irritated (sometimes with his friends, even!). He's not some perfect smiling Pollyanna who's never suffered a single doubt in his life just because he prefers not to dwell on the negative. It's just that his will is so strong that he knows setbacks are temporary and he keeps pushing on regardless.

However, he's also not the type to wear his every emotion on his sleeve a la Amy and Eggman, and expecting him to is putting an unfair onus on him to be something he's not. Somehow his positivity, which is supposed to be inspirational and not strictly relatable, translates into "he has no Realistic Emotions(tm)." And it irks me to no end because once again, you are denying merit and dimension to Games!Sonic's character.

Not to mention, where would he have gotten this experience? The metal virus? Sonic pretty much had to run himself ragged just for a chance of survival. He didn't have a choice. It's not like he forfeited sleep because he wanted to.

All those times he should have taken responsibility… He didn't. Sonic can't assume too much responsibility if he shirks the ones he already has.

Also, listen. As someone who is currently experiencing vertigo and burnout at a degree that makes it difficult to be functional (can't really do much if the only state you can tolerate is lying down): if Sonic gave me this advice, in those words, I would be discouraged. He's emphasizing how ~useless~ the burned-out person would be to others instead of emphasizing that health is in and of itself important.

Jewel is already hard on herself---why add to her guilt by saying "relax or else you won't be able to serve others?" I mean, I already feel guilty that my brain and body basically shortcircuited from stress. thanks, Sonic

Furthermore, how come he didn't whip out this pep talk for Amy when she was overworking herself?

Oh, yeah, right. In issue 12, the Chaotix swung by demanding pay and he pretty much left her high and dry with a snarky look on his face.

I'm not just being A Hater(tm) like usual, either; the book makes frequent mention of how exhausted, busy, and stressed Amy is. The following examples all come from different arcs.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Charles P. Pierce: Hard after Thursday night’s television debacle, the Supreme Court leaped in to destroy the separation of powers and, as Elie Mystal pointed out on Xwitter, to engage in the biggest power grab since Marbury v. Madison. Through the now-customary 6–3 vote delivered by the carefully manufactured conservative majority, the precedent of Chevron v. Natural Resources Defense Council, aka the Chevron deference, is now as dead as Julius Caesar. And thus forty years of administrative law comes to a rude and abrupt end. The decision further illustrates that the dedication of the carefully manufactured conservative majority to corporate oligarchy is utterly unshakable, expertise—scientific and otherwise—be damned. Don’t believe me? Ask Chief Justice John Roberts, who wrote the majority opinion.

“Perhaps most fundamentally, Chevron’s presumption is misguided because agencies have no special competence in resolving statutory ambiguities. Courts do.”

So instead of career scientists deciding that the E. coli convention in your pork loin makes it inadvisable to eat, some twenty-two-year old law clerk fresh out of Regent University School of Law will. Bon appétit!

Getting rid of Chevron was one of the golden dreams of the country’s oligarchs and the judges and lawyers in their pay. Along with Roe v. Wade, it was number one on the conservative hit parade. But Justice Neil Gorsuch, whose concurrence is chock-full of the kind of tinhorn erudition so beloved by the carefully manufactured conservative majority, has perhaps a special reason to dance on Chevron’s grave. His mother, Anne Gorsuch, was hired by the Reagan administration to run the EPA—into the ground, apparently. From The Washington Post:

Anne Gorsuch—like Reagan then and President Trump today—was a firm believer that the federal government was too big, too powerful and too eager to issue regulations that restricted businesses. As a result, she slashed the EPA’s budget by nearly a quarter and, according to a Washington Post story at the time, boasted that she had reduced the thickness of the book of clean water regulations from six inches to a half inch. She filled various departments at EPA with subordinates recruited from the very industries the agency was supposed to be regulating.

By the end of her stint at EPA, Anne Gorsuch was under siege. A half dozen congressional committees were looking into allegations of mismanagement of the Superfund program, which was designed to clean up abandoned toxic waste sites around the country. The House voted to cite Gorsuch for contempt of Congress for failing to turn over subpoenaed records.

In addition to its dollar-store history, Gorsuch’s concurrence pretty much turns the concept of stare decisis into Silly Putty. Return with us now to those thrilling days of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, Justice Neil Gorsuch, your host.

"Other consequences followed for the role precedent played in future judicial proceedings. Because past decisions represented something “less than a Law,” they did not bind future judges....At the same time, as Matthew Hale put it, a future judge could give a past decision “Weight” as “evidence” of the law....Expressing the same idea, William Blackstone conceived of judicial precedents as “evidence” of “the common law.” And much like other forms of evidence, precedents at common law were thought to vary in the weight due them."

Matthew Hale died in 1676. He was a notorious witch hunter and once argued that the existence of laws against witchcraft proved that witches existed. What the hell he has to do with PFAS pollution or workplace safety in a chicken plant is beyond me. But we live in his universe now, and Neil Gorsuch got his own back for his mom.

https://www.esquire.com/.../supreme-court-chevron.../...

[princess-of-the-corner]

Say, recall that post on how Season1 to 3 could be done with the revised Butterfly? I realize one could get the same general plot beats out of season 4 with it & the 12 Kwami too... Well kinda.

Here's how I'd do it if I had to stick to some things bit not others XD

Season 3: As before, Kim was Tiger King & Chat Blanc was more like a prophecy. Also Gabriel steals the Miraculous that weren't being used, Mouse & Peacock.

Miracle Queen is slightly altered to show more sympathy for Chloe, either with her being an Akuma kid, so Gabriel forcibly Akumtizes her, or showing how unstable her head-space is.

Rather than declaring for Hawk Moth, Chloe just tries to run but its seen as an admission of guilt by the heroes who don't ear her out.

Season 4: Marinette & Adrien's whole arc is grappling with issues of trust, forgiveness, looking back and realizing mistakes sometimes in time other times too late & the increasingly crushing weight of their duties. Overall mostly the same-ish, the differences come from the villains and can be broken into 4 quarters.

Quarter 1: Truth & Lies is one episode, Gabriel has been subtly negging Kagami & having Lila through one means or another stoke paranoia in Luka. He uses Mullo to duplicate his Akuma & transforms them both at the same time, as well as giving them Familiars. He uses the Peaock to transmute their physical forms to make them more dangerous or hard to hit.

This nearly wins him the day, Marinette has to pull on most reserve heroes & uses a combo of Multi-Mouse & Trixx to protect her identity, which coincides with her having to reveal her identity to Alya to get the job done. The big reason he loses is the Kwami didn't tell him that while adults can use the powers more than once, they can still be hurt overdoing it, so Gabriel collapses from the strain & is pissed.

Stuck on more subtle methods for the next quarter he persists in trying to low key undermine Kagami, Chloe, harass the other temp heroes & uses Lila as his on the ground scout. She's living alone in a new apartment now with her mother thinking she's at a fancy boarding school & she's clearly... struggling, but doubling down thinking she can somehow 'win'.

The other big shift if Chloe's head-space is less pro Hawk Moth and more bitter cynic about the heroes. Sabrina notes she thinks 'something' happened on Miracle Queen Day but Chloe can't/wont talk about it.

Sole Queen happens here with her trying to be a good big sister, IE:

"Dressing and acting this way is expected, this is how we avoid mothers wrath, don't fall for fathers sad dog act give him an inch & he takes a mile. Our classmates have no sympathy for people who aren't doormats & if you want to resist Hawk Moth you have to be strong!"

The pressure she puts on Zoe is a microcosm of the pressure she's under & Zoe snaps. Then gets accepted by the class which Chloe has mixed vibes on at best. Their relationship persists a little longer n that Adrien & Chloe "I want this to work but not on your terms" and Chloe's "I want this to work but I need more from you than you give."

Quarter 2: Alya has been helping Marinette cover her identity, serving as substitute Ladybug and the "new" fox.

Lila continues stalking & sabotage. Chloe's head space continues to deteriorate, while others like Kagami also show issues they get sufficient support that it doesn't break them.

Queen Bananas is actually a major episode two one scene. When the movie is being discussed in class, Chloe is absent. It cuts to Gabriel's Manor where a very frazzled Chloe is being given a manipulative spiel about how "This movie is for you, to finally say your piece and have people hear you."

When she leaves she sees a similarly frazzled Lila being shooed away, "You are not meant to come here in daylight" and the two hair a brief stare off before looking away and pretending they didn't see the other. Besides that, when Gabriel sabotages 'her' movie and gives it to the class in secret, Chloe's breakdown reaches peak.

This is also where she realizes Gabriel is Hawk Moth intensifying her lashing out at Adrien, "Were you in on this!? Of course you don't understand you never listen!" and as Queen Banana she is extra unhinged. Still, nefore she transformed she was shown scribbling "Gabriel = Hawk Moth" on her arm.

Quarter 3: Lila has been stalking Alya and while nothing is confirmed, (To Gabriel) he does know she's still in Ladybug's confidence. Cue all that noise.

Alya almost gives in, but doesn't solely cos she knows Marinette's identity. IE, she would have gone Miracle Queen for her family too, but she had more reason to trust Ladybug.

Despite the win, this is where Alya has to publicly quit being Ladybug's ally because she's endangering her family.

& worse? The fox is missing.

Lila has it, but Hawk Moth doesn't know.

At the end of this quarter Gabriel is back to using all three Miraculous baby!

Penal Team is the culmination of Chloe's anger at the heroes, isolation from support & rejection by others all manifesting in a massive:

"You want a monster, I'll give you a monster like you've never seen!"

This also breaks between Chloe & Sabrina; potentially on purpose. The battle is hard and hectic & Ladybug has to call on many heroes to win & they ultimately end up in a stalemate.

Chloe's anger is to uncontrolled to articulate anything beyond vagaries abut being left exposed, how she thinks Hawk Moth will win, s just trying to survive, ETC. When looked back on it makes a major point but in the moment it gets a:

"This is why you were never fit to be a hero!"

Which ends up leaving her so depressed, along with the stalemate that she forcibly kicks Hawk Moth out of her head and just... Quits.

Lila comes to recruit her at the end of it but Chloe is looking at the broken glasses and smirking, stopping Lila in her tracks by asking if she wants a jib.

Quarter 4: Adrien is still being sent on some kind of tour, or Felix has some kind of prank (Seemingly) planned for the event. Either way Marinette needs to get in to see him for sentimental reasons like passing on a gift from class or to stop the "Prank" (the whole thing with the rings)

She is surprised that Jean seemed leery to add her to the staff when Zoe used her Chloe impersonation though. As well as confused there's another "new staffer" Its Chloe in a bird mask. Yet a confident, swaggering Chloe is also attending the party, whaaaat?

Yeah its Lila using Glamour and make up to pass as Chloe.

Meanwhile Chloe breaks into Gabriel's office, finds the secret entryway and basically holds reveling the truth or Emilie's life hostage in a very. "Yes I'll go down but I will take you down with me" way. Forcing Gabriel to surrender the Peacock "He used it least so he's likely to give it up" and swear to leave her loved one's alone.

He bitterly does so before Akumatizing himself to try and get it back.

Lila gets a message telling her to leave & that Chloe will be leaving Paris that night if she wants to come. Lila is unsure caught between escape or finding a way to do more than 'run and hide', but either trust Ladybug enough to jus tell her this stuff. So she gets caught & Gabriel realizes she had the Fox but she loses it.

The episode ends on a disguised Chloe getting a hotel room in London, having used the transmutation power to make gold.

The big finale is basically built around a major scheme of Gabriel's.

Like canon in that respect but also him offering Lila a "Chance at redemption". Which comes with incredible danger!

She manages to play her part well, in part by figuring out Ladybug's identity and does actually steal all her Miraculous, including Tikki.

Buuuut she doesn't trust Gabriel and when he does indeed turn on her she manages to slip away with Tikki & maybe one other.

She returns it to Marinette & gives her a brief summary of, "Hawk Moth is Gabriel, he messed with out heads, betrayed us, and was always going to throw us away, & I don't know what to do anymore."

Exactly what state she's in when its all over, or if its even her who makes the delivery or a Kwami she gave the Miraculous too, or if she stays in Paris are all unclear. The underlying theme is she got dragged in too deep and taken advantage of by a adult manipulator. & that she didn't think anyone would believe her or care once she knew how bad it was. So rather than trying to get out (As Choe did) she tried to turn the game on him and uuh, it didn't pan out.

This episode would also likely involve Adrien also discovering the truth about Gabriel & basically needing to run like hell, but he can't contact Ladybug about it in time.

Season ends on Marinette & Adrien revealing their identities as they resolve to continue the fight.

Chloe is shown watching Hawk Moth's dramatic "I will soon win!" proclamation with Doosoo insinuating she'll be making a comeback in Season 5.

Not sure what would happen there, but yeah. that's a general idea anyway XD

let! Chloé! Go! Feral!

[wallwriterstuff]

A Little Blood Never Scared Me ||Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Female!Reader||

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption/drunkenness. Descriptions of injury, blood and violence. Descriptions of the disconnect between being home and being out in the field. A few swear words and so much fluff near the end your teeth will rot.

Tags: Written (very late, sorry!) for @glitterypirateduck 's October 141 writing challenge because I currently have an unhealthy obsession with Modern Warfare. Prompts used include 2 characters (Gaz and Price), Damsel in Distress, and Taking Care of Each other.

Words: 4091

Summary: It can be difficult to readjust to civilian life without appropriate distractions. Or - the story of how Gaz can't help but play the role of knight in shining armor despite being on leave and meets the best distraction yet.

It’s never easy to come home and rejoin the real world.

Out in the middle of some war-torn territory it’s easy to forget how…mundane, it all is. When he exchanges the hard smoothness of his rifle for the hard smoothness of a whisky tumbler at the local pub it all feels very surreal. There’s nothing more foreign than the flimsy weight of a kitchen knife when your used to a combat blade. Hell, even his nose keeps twitching because the shower gel he uses at home isn’t the same as the standard issue soaps he’s used to at the barracks. He’s gone from scentless to being a human Yankee candle and it’s making his skin crawl almost as much as the clattering of pool balls, pinging in his ears like the deafening roar of a mortar strike. That being said, the burn in his throat is a welcome distraction, as is the company. Price has a way of putting it all into perspective he’s just yet to master and if Kyle has chosen him as his own personal Obi-wan, well, Price doesn’t need to know.

“You called your mum yet?” He asks him, eyes crinkling at the edges as he smirks a bit at Kyle’s obvious wince. Shaking his head, the younger man taps his fingers against the side of his tumbler before lifting it to his lips. He pauses, briefly, eyes lifting to meet piercing, amused blue.

“Will when I’m ready, you know what she’s like.” He sips, savouring the grounding burn in the back of his throat. With his glass safely back on the table he lifts his cap, running a hand over his hair. It’s grown uncomfortable long, definitely not as short as he usually has it, but maybe that’s just him being overly aware of the regulations he doesn’t need to adhere to as much on leave. Price grunts a bit in acknowledgement, watching his sergeant carefully, and Kyle hates the feeling that somehow, he’s being looked through instead of at. Price has always been good at that to, the man’s instincts borderline supernatural, at least in Kyle’s opinion.

“Worrying about her son? How dare she.” There’s not a hint of mockery in Price’s voice but the underlying message is clear to Kyle. Get your head right and call your mother, you prick.

“Think she’s more worried about my sister at this point, what with her due and all.” Kyle deflects him from the crux of the matter with practiced ease, but he knows he only gets away with it because Price lets him. He’s not really sure he wants to delve too deeply into the idea that home feels like coarse sand in his boots and the smell of gunpowder instead of the plush carpets and excessive luxury of a 60-inch TV screen in his apartment.

“Due already? Thought she’d only just got knocked up?” Price’s eyes flicker about, tracking something over his shoulder. Kyle immediately feels his hackles raise but the subtle stiffening of his muscles is something he just about manages to push away with another admittedly large sip of his drink. It’s only someone exiting the bathroom.

“Watch it, might be my Captain but that’s my sister you’re talking about.” He warns lightly. Price grins a bit. Kyle let’s his eyes slide over the pub. They’ve chosen a table off to the side, tucked out of the way of prying eyes in such a position that let’s them see the entire room – not even Price can kick that instinct. There’s a middle-aged couple that appear to be on a date in the corner booth, smiling and ignorant of the world around them. A few rowdy regulars that the bartender dotes on at the dartboard let out another cheer as someone hits something remarkably close to a bullseye. It’s a bog-standard pub all in all, from the exposed wooden beams to the threadbare carpet that reeks of long-spilled booze and something that attempted to clean the spill. Nothing here to fear.

“She ready for the little one to arrive?” Price asks the question as if he has any way of knowing the answer. The disconnect between him and his family after months away is just as surreal to him as the prospect of cooking his own meals again rather than ripping open an MRE and praying it was somewhat edible this time. Price leads the conversation with the mastery of knowing the steps to the dance. It’s an easy routine, a simple one, and it brings him more comfort than he dares say. There’s aimless chatter and there’s noise but not too much noise, a good drink, and a warm atmosphere that almost, almost, mimics the heat of whatever godforsaken dessert he’s traipsed through this time. It’s grounding and mundane and a slow ease back into the reality of what everyday life tends to be when you aren’t being shot at or hanging from helicopters. By the time their three drinks in, Kyle feels less like a rattle snake coiled to strike and a little more human again.

The group at the dartboard have only gotten rowdier, and they’ve stumbled their way back over to the bar for another round. A shared glance is all it takes for Kyle to know this will be their last drink tonight, better to leave before anything kicks off amongst the herd of drunken fools and sets them back into fight or flight mode.

“I’ll call my Mum tomorrow.” Kyle relents finally, meeting Price’s eyes for a tad longer than necessary just to show he means it.

Price gives an approving nod, “Good lad.”

He glances over at the group at the bar, the boisterous laughter turning his head as he watches a woman gingerly skirt her way around them to head for the bathrooms. His eyes narrow in distaste as a particularly loud wolf-whistle makes your head duck and your pace increase. He understands their attraction, you’re easy on the eyes, but you clearly don’t want to be bothered either and he can see the flush on your cheeks is just as much down to embarrassment as it is alcohol consumption.

“Alright, who’s paying then?” He asks, tearing his eyes from your figure once he knows your safely tucked in the ladies out of their eyesight. Price tips his head, reaching for his wallet and producing a coin.

“Call it.”

“Tails.” Kyle’s response is immediate, eyes keenly tracking the coin as Price flips it. Judging by the disapproving grunt and the mild annoyance in his eyes, Price has lost this round, and he can’t stop the smug grin twitching his lips upwards. It falls quickly as he hears the hollering from the crowd at the bar.

“Go on son!”

“Get some!”

“Don’t fumble it mate!”

From the corner of his eye he sees a tall brunette man stumbling his way from the bar, and something about the look in his eyes sets him on edge. It’s almost predatory in nature, the kind of look that you see in nature documents as predators stalk their prey, and he twists his body instinctually to face the oncoming threat before he even fully comprehends what the threat is. He’s not sure what about this drunk buffoon sets him so on edge but he learned early on in his career that trusting your gut was usually the safest option. That and the idiot does look like a bit of a dick.

“Might come up with you to the bar anyway.” He says.

“Suit yourself.” Price’s voice is calm, unbothered, but it’s as natural and easy as breathing to Kyle to put himself as one more barrier between a potential threat and a friend. Neither of them even has a chance to get up from their seats before three things seem to happen at once.

1, you emerge from the bathroom.

2, the brunette man from the bar trips over his own feet.

3, the pair of you collide and create some cosmic chain of knock-on collisions that Kyle has only half a second to decide whether or not he can stop or if he just has to embrace it.

If he doesn’t want a broken wrist, embracing it seems to be his best option.

Fate deposits you in his lap not a second later, ribs cracking painfully against the tabletop and your hand slapping into his glass, even as he tries his best to steady you. You’re both covered in beer from the brunette guy’s drink as it sloshes from the pint glass and onto your clothes, and Kyle wrinkles his nose a bit against the sudden yeasty smell. There’s a sharp cry from both fallen parties and a soft grunt from him as your arse lands not so gently on more delicate areas of his body, but despite the jolt of pain in his thigh and wrists he’s otherwise doing far better than you, though he thinks you’re a bit too shell-shocked from the fall to recognise there’s blood dripping from your hand.

“Way to go Mark!”

“Fumbled it mate!”

The rowdy bar crew irk him more than he lets on as Price hauls up the idiot, Mark. His face is red from a mixture of alcohol, embarrassment, and anger, anger he swiftly lets loose on the three people in front of him. Price holds his hands up in surrender as Mark shirks him off rather violently, almost falling again when he twists too hard and quick in his uncoordinated state.

“Ge’off! You! You made me spill my beer!” The accusing finger pointed your way seems to snap you from your stupor and you wriggle out of Kyle’s gentle grip with wide eyes.

“I didn’t – what?” Your voice is a pitched squeak of disbelief and shock. Kyle stands, grabbing a wad of napkins to press it against your wound. “Ow! Hey! What the – oh my god…” You stare wide-eyed at the rivulet of blood rolling down your arm. It’s soaking through the napkins quicker than Kyle would like.

“Keep your arm up, above your heart. You won’t have hit anything major, it’s just the alcohol thinning your blood.” He reassures you, keeping his touch light and unintrusive. You could easily push his hand away but you don’t, surprised Y/E/C eyes flickering up meet his own.

“You even listenin’ to me you little bitch? I said you owe me another drink!” Mark’s words are so slurred that another drink is clearly a terrible decision for him.

“Oi, leave the lady in peace.” Price suggests. Knowing his Captain has him handled Kyle focuses his attention on you, gently moving the bloodied napkin from your palm. It sticks a bit, and you wince as the coarse material comes free of your broken skin.

“Sorry, sorry…you’re going to need stitches.” He informs you. There’s a jagged line that won’t stop pumping red, the flesh torn open with a glint of glass inside.

“Stitches? Oh no, not needles. I – shit I feel dizzy.” You turn whiter than a sheet at the thought and Kyle’s quick to adjust his grip on you to help you sit, keeping your arm elevated while you put your head between your knees.

“Easy, deep breaths, you’re going to be alright,” he crouches beside you, hearing Price and Mark squaring off behind him, “I’m Kyle. Can you tell me your name?”

“I’m Y/N.” your voice is a little weak. “Sorry for, you know, sitting on you.” Kyle chuckles a little at that, glancing up as Price hands him a towel. Price has angled himself between you two and the drunken fool as his friends come to collect him.

“Don’t worry about it, glad you landed on me and not the table.” He focuses on wrapping the towel around your hand, apologising quietly when the pressure makes you wince.

“Oh no, I landed on that to. I landed on all the things.” You groan a bit, good hand massaging your ribs. Kyle grimaces slightly.

“Can I check nothings broken?” he offers. You look up at him, search his gaze for any ill-intent, and then you nod. He makes sure to give you a reassuring smile as his hand finds your side, fingers gently applying pressure and watching your face for any signs of discomfort. It feels more intimate than is appropriate for a first meeting but your nerves bottle before his does and you look away with pink cheeks, which is a feat in itself because Kyle had been sure you’d lost a bit too much blood to blush like that.

“But she owes me a beer!” Mark is still insistent, even as his friends try to drag him away. Kyle huffs, annoyed now as he glances back at him over his shoulder.

“She owes you about as much as any other woman on the planet. Nothing. Now piss off and sober up mate.” There’s enough warning in his voice that Mark’s more sober friends hurry to comply with the thinly veiled threat.

“You got anyone who can get you to hospital love?” Price asks, standing as still as stone until he’s sure there’s no chance of Mark making his way back to you. Kyle keeps the pressure on your hand, seeing a bit more alertness to your eyes now.

“No, no we’ve both had something to drink.” You grimace, looking at Kyle with big doe eyes he finds more endearing than he’d care to admit. “Do I really need stitches?”

“Yeah, you do, and for someone to pick the glass out the wound,” Kyle’s smile is a tad sympathetic now, “But the good news is your ribs aren’t broken. You may have landed on all the things but you’re not too bad off for it.” His light teasing brings a twitch of a smile to your lips, a smile that quickly falls as Price questions if you have friends or a partner here to go with you. Though your eyes search the pub thoroughly, they fill with frustration and regret when you see no familiar face in sight.

“No…I was on a date,” you look a bit embarrassed to admit it, “Guess he snuck out while I was in the bathroom.” Kyle tilts his head slightly, carefully helping you to stand when you attempt it.

“More fool him, look at all the fun he could be having.” He says it just to see you smile, enjoying the tinkling of your laughter in his ears.

“Oh, bucket loads right? Christ…that stings.” Your smile falls away into a wince again, and though he knows he’ll get shit for it later from Soap when Price inevitably tells him, he can’t stop the offer from tumbling out of his mouth.

“I’ll go with you then.”

You sigh, “It’s okay, really, no need to ruin your night any more than I have.”

“Who said you’d ruined my night? Come on, let’s get you seen to.” He’s already gently guiding you out of the pub with Price on your other side, knowing you’re likely to protest anyway from the look on your face. You pause only to grab a jacket from your table before the cold night air envelopes you, Kyle keeping your arm up and sticking close to ensure your warm enough – the last thing he wants is you going into shock on him.

“Are you sure?” you ask for the hundredth time. Kyle silences you with a single look that has a shudder crawling up your spine, one he can feel ripple into him since you’re standing so close, and he feels a little smug at the reaction he gets from you. He’s seen your eyes lingering once or twice to, and he’s starting to thank whatever’s watching over him the evening took this turn.

“Gaz!” Price calls his name and Kyle turns to see him standing, holding open the door of a cab not 50 yards down the road. Bundled in the back of a cab that’s probably breaking a few speeding laws to get you both to a nearby hospital, he feels those instincts tugging at the back of his mind, trying to claw him back into work mode. There’s blood, there was the threat of violence, and it’s got all of his hackles raised a bit, even though he’s trying to be soft with you. You’re clearly in pain and still a little shocked by the nights events and he doesn’t want to be too stoic or too harsh and make it worse, so he focuses on the gentle smell of your perfume and the softness of your hair tickling the side of his face. It crosses his mind then you might be uncomfortable with his proximity, and he subtly tries to shift away only to find you follow him, naturally wanting more of his warmth as the blood loss and shock make you feel cold.

“Just to be clear, I don’t usually do this.” You say softly. Kyle glances at you with a raised eyebrow, your voice and the rumbling purr of the engine is all quiet and helps soothe some of his louder thoughts right now.

“You don’t usually bleed all over strangers at the pub? A shame, I was looking for someone who shared my hobby.” He tries to joke, feeling a bit rusty and out of practice, and realises too late how goddamn creepy that probably sounded. He’s thankful to hear your quiet laughter.

“No, well, yes, I don’t do that either, but I meant hopping into cabs with strangers.” You nudge his side lightly with your elbow and he relaxes a little more.

“We exchanged names and I’m covered in your blood, not sure we can call ourselves strangers anymore, more like…strange acquaintances.” He suggests. You hum in agreement at that, and you lapse back into silence with him once more. It’s a strangely comfortable one, but then again Kyle’s never really been a man of many words. He keeps half an eye on the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the pallor of your skin. Your bathed intermittently in warm orange light from the street-lights outside, and his breath hitches a little in his chest. Maybe it’s been a little too long since he was allowed to think of anything other than what the next target is, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take the opportunity to admire the way your long lashes brush your cheeks, or the perfectly shaped outline of full, painted lips.

“Thank you, for coming with me.” You look up at him, your smile so sweet it makes his stomach flip. It really isn’t the best of circumstances, he knows so, but he rarely gets the chance to charm a pretty woman and, well, your night’s been a bit shit, so he feels obligated to cheer you up some.

“When a pretty woman falls into your lap, you’d be amiss to pass up the opportunity to play knight in beer-stained armour.” He chuckles. He’s taking most of the weight of your arm but he ignores the discomfort in his own. Your eyes are pinched with pain, and he can only imagine how badly your sliced palm must be throbbing, knowing from his own encounters with combat knives how deeply the sting of a cut can run.

“Bold of you to assume I’m a damsel in distress. I sliced open my hand perfectly well without your help.” You quip back. Kyle grins. You’ve got a wicked tongue and the wit of the devil. As the cab pulls up, he tips the driver an extra £20 before helping you into the accident and emergency ward. It’s crammed wall to wall, every chair full and an excess of patients standing around, and the strong burn of disinfectant in his nose has him taking slightly shallower breaths to avoid the smell as best he can. You look even paler under the fluorescent lighting and he’s determined to get you seen to quickly, the bright red of the blood-soaked towel on your hand standing out starkly in this pristine white place.

You give your name and details, checking in with the receptionist who looks at your hand like she wishes it would disappear from her line of sight, and then your led to an over-flow waiting room where there’s a chair hurriedly snapped open for you and the promise of a nurse seeing you quickly. Kyle crouches beside you again, looking over the mess of blood and beer on the pretty dress you’d been wearing that night, and quietly wonders how your date found enough faults in you to run out. For the five minutes he’s known you Kyle’s found you to be attractive and quick-witted, a good sense of humour, so he can’t imagine the conversation was that bad.

“Do you want some water?” he offers, thumb jerking to the water cooler not too far away. You nod a bit and leaves you with your hand raised to go fetch you both a cup. He watches you sip it slowly and he does the same, eyes flickering to find all the nearest exits out of habit. You’re like a magnet though, a beacon burning brightly in the night, and he finds his gaze quickly drawn back to you. The bubble you two have created is one of quiet comfort, the kind that warm blankets on cold days provides and is found in the deep hearts of forests or the embers of dying fires.

“This really doesn’t bother you, does it?” you question, pulling him from his thoughts. He glances up at you from his spot crouched beside you, head cocking. “This. Blood, hospital trips, confrontation. You’ve been completely unphased by this from the start.” You elaborate on your thoughts and Kyle finds himself blinking in surprise, adding the word observant into the file with your name on that he’s starting to compile in his mind. He’s almost reluctant to say what he knows is the answer to your unspoken question, knowing it’s often a crossroads for all relationships waiting to form in his life. He doesn’t want to give up the soothing balm that is you just yet. There’s just enough intrigue to make him want to know more, and yet he braces himself for the rejection he’s sure is inevitable from such a sweet thing as you.

“I’m a soldier.” He almost holds his breath once the truths out. The rest of the sentence can remain unspoken, you don’t need him to tell you of the horrors and misery he’s seen, everyone knows what soldiers see even if they don’t talk about it. You surprise him once more.

“Ah, I see.” The quiet acknowledgement is just that, a statement of fact that promises he’s been heard without delivering judgement, and he feels there’s hope he might still have a chance at knowing you.

“That bother you?” he just has to be sure.

You smile a bit, “Depends, are you here because you’re duty bound to protect innocent civilians?”

His head tilts a bit; he sees that inquisitive little gleam in your eyes, a spark of interest, and he catches it quick with the intent of nurturing that spark into roaring flame. His head’s completely quiet now. He feels like he can go back to the silence at home and survive it if only your voice fills the empty space instead.

“No…here because I think that what tonight’s shown me, is your hand fits nicely in mine.” The line is absolutely terrible and he knows it, but the way you fluster and smile at the ground has his own grin widening. When the nurse calls your name, you look up to her, then back at him, biting your lip. For the first time that night, you don’t try to be brave, you let him see your apprehension and offer him your good hand, wanting him to come with you.

“Prove it.” You say.

Kyle does, and when he returns to his apartment in the early hours of the morning, he can still feel the warm imprint of your lips on his cheek. Your perfume has stale beer has cloyed in his nose and the imprint of you is behind his eyelids when he closes them to try and sleep. The echo of your laughter rings in his ears and the reminder of your smile as he’d suggested late night waffles at a dessert place nearby your apartment. The phone on his nightstand seemed to hum with anticipation of using your now saved number tomorrow.

It's never easy coming back to the real world, but the real world certainly has it's perks.

[a-killer-obsession]

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

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

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

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 3 - Shopping Date

Killer learns something surprising, and you get some much needed shopping done.

WC: ~8k

Heat made quick work of the tour, it wasn't like there was that much to see on a ship, even one as large as the Victoria Punk, and he really did have shit to do. Everyone had tasks they were assigned to, everyone pulled their weight on the ship, even if it seemed like it was the cabin boys and henchman doing most of the work. Well, I mean, it kinda was, it's not like you’d ever catch the commanders swabbing the deck, but they had important jobs none-the-less. With a resupply island so close, Heat's work was piling up and he would be no doubt busy for the rest of the day.

During the tour he also explained to you the dynamics of the crew. It was split into three main categories: the top dogs, the henchmen, and the cabin boys.

The job of the cabin boys was clear - they cleaned, they ran errands, and they trained - hoping to one day be considered strong enough to join the henchmen or top dogs. They were all young, ranging from fourteen to nineteen years old. Most were orphans, kids they'd picked up after raids who had a little fight in them and showed promise, most taken against their will (since the Kid pirates were usually the reason why they were orphans) but it worked out. Kid and Killer knew well how hard it is to be an orphan, Heat explained, so they took these boys to save them from starvation and hardship. Even if they fought it now, one day they’d come to see it as a blessing. A few more fiery cabin boys were volunteers, boys who were already street urchins looking for an out, or just boys with straight up anger issues whose parents couldn't handle them. All of the cabin boys slept in one long room on hammocks, each with a small wooden trunk provided to them where they kept their few possessions. They didn't get a share of the loot, so they couldn't afford to buy new things at will, and had to put in a request if they needed anything. Right now there were eight cabin boys on the Victoria Punk, but the room could accommodate ten. Cabin boys didn’t usually join fights, but every now and then one would inevitably be lost during fights at sea, when there was nowhere to run.

The henchmen were next up on the food chain, making the bulk of the crew. They cooked on a rotation, and helped with the harder cleaning jobs like swabbing the deck - which had to be done every single day to keep the wood impregnated with sea water, which kept it from rotting - as well as taking care of supply runs, training the cabin boys, and being expected to have the top dog's backs during fights. They also took care of the ship's maintenance and repairs, as well as hoisting sails and dealing with the anchor and helm, being that most were men who had experience as sailors, often being ex-marines or leftovers from defeated pirate crews. Kid sometimes used his fruit to reel in the anchor, but only if they were in a rush. Henchmen had an unfortunately high turnover rate, as they were usually the first to die in battle, and those that did last were usually promoted to the top dogs. Currently there were sixteen henchmen, split between three rooms that could hold six men a piece, a few beds currently being empty after the fight at the marine base. Their numbers would no doubt be replenished at the next few islands, Kid liked to have a full force of henchmen to keep up his crew’s strength.

Next were the Top Dogs. These included the commanders - Kid, Killer, Heat, Wire, and two others that you hadn't formally met yet - Mohawk and Double. One had been on nightwatch, and thus asleep when you were freed from the mast, and the other on the current watch, which is why neither had been at lunch. You had seen them around the deck though, and picked up their names when they were addressed by henchmen. Heat told you they hadn't known Kid and Killer as long as Wire and himself had, but were still close, trusted advisors and fierce warriors.

Mohawk was a small man compared to the other commanders, who, as the name would suggest, sported a large, vibrantly orange mohawk, the rest of his head being decorated with zigzags neatly shaved into short, unnaturally yellow hair. Despite his height, being only barely taller than you, and a thin build, he was still one hundred percent muscle, with speed and a short blade known as a falcata being his weapons of choice. He seemed to have a short temper, and usually wore a setup of head to toe leather decorated with metal spikes, even in hot weather.

Double was his near opposite, being just as tall and broad as Kid, but he lacked visible muscle, instead it was hidden under a thick layer of fat - hence the less than kind nickname that he had come to embrace. He was a sniper, very rarely ever caught in the heat of battle. He usually stayed far from the field, or up in the crow's nest, covering the other commanders’ backs with a sharp eye and a deadly precision that could rival Yasopp of the Red Haired pirates. He had a vibrant head of green hair, almost neon, which he kept tied in a tight man bun. Like Kid, he always had a set of goggles on him, presumably to protect his vision so as not to be caught weakened by the environment during battle, though he preferred to let them hang around his neck most of the time. Like the majority of the Kid pirates his closet seemed to consist of mostly blacks, as well as some dark forest greens, and his outfit was usually made up of some sort of cropped shirt and baggy pants, tucked into tall heeled boots. Despite the nickname, it was clear he felt no shame about his size, and was just as strong as the other commanders when it came down to it.

The rest of the top dogs were made up of promoted henchmen who had proven themselves to be strong fighters and had made their way up the ranks through hard work. They were known as the officers, and were in charge of the day-to-day running of the ship, keeping the henchmen and cabin boys in line so the commanders could focus on the more important shit. When battles happened they were usually on the front line, right behind the commanders, and were all dangerous men with a heavy bloodlust.

Currently, including the four commanders and you - who was classified as a commander, as per your demands - there were eleven top dogs. Kid and Killer had their own rooms, as you had seen on the tour, with their own private bathrooms you were told. The other four commanders were split between two shared rooms with a shared bathroom between the four of them. The remaining four, sans you, shared one room, and shared a communal bathroom with the henchmen and cabin boys. Then there was yourself, who currently resided in what was formerly a storage room where Heat had ended the tour, and would be sharing a bathroom with the other commanders. It still meant sharing a bathroom with four men, but it was better than sharing with the henchmen.

Everyone on the ship pulled their weight, even if it didn't seem like it outside of battle. Obviously the henchmen and cabin boys were always hard at work, but the top dogs also held their own. The officers took care of the day-to-day work, but the commanders also had important jobs to do. The first job, shared among all of the top dogs, was the watch. There was always a man in the crow's nest, regardless of the weather, whether it be out at sea or docked. The watch was rotated three times a day, in eight hour shifts, swapping at six in the morning, two o'clock, and ten o'clock. The importance of the watch couldn't be understated, being the first line of defense against rival crews, marines and seakings, so it was only entrusted to the top dogs. As annoying as it was, they didn’t trust the henchmen to not fall asleep on the job.

Each of the commanders had specific roles on the ship as well. Heat was the commander in charge of most consumable supplies. It was his job to make sure the infirmary was well stocked, the shipwright team had everything they needed, even the toilet paper was under his domain. If a cabin boy needed something, it was him they pleaded their case to. Which was probably in their best interest - Heat was a bit of a softy and hardly ever denied a request. His job consisted mostly of running between the various teams of henchmen and officers to make lists, and making sure someone was assigned to procure all of the necessary items.

He worked closely with Wire, who was in charge of the money. He made sure everything was budgeted for and let the captain know when a raid was needed to keep up with costs. Heat and Wire spent a lot of time negotiating supplies, if a request was denied it was usually because of Wire. He also took care of the ship's records, keeping track of all supplies, loot, and money that moved on and off the ship. He was often found in the navigation room where he kept a desk and several filing cabinets full of well organized records. You’d barely seen him over the last week, but you realised after Heat’s explanation that it was probably because the crew had taken in a great deal of loot from the marine base, so he’d likely been taking all his time taking inventory of it.

Killer was in charge of food. Heat told you, much to your surprise, that Killer actually really enjoyed cooking, and often cooked for the commanders, it was somewhat of a hobby for him. Since he spent more time in the kitchen than any other commander, and had far more knowledge about cooking, he was more than happy to work out the food roster with the officer in charge of the kitchen, since he could work in his own preferences. Food was planned months in advance, since there was never a promise of when the next resupply would be. Even if the map claimed to have a town on an upcoming island, they could never be sure that it hadn't been raided or destroyed before their arrival, so it was important to be prepared, lest they starve at sea. Water was taken care of by a filtration system, stolen from the marines, and one of the other officers was in charge of its upkeep as part of his managing the maintenance of the ship.

Mohawk, despite his short temper, was actually the ship's doctor. He didn't actually have a medical degree, but he had been saved from a life as a street urchin in his youth by a kind doctor, and trained under him. He would have gone to medical school, but he unfortunately suffered from dyslexia and was unable to pass the entry exam because of it. He wanted so badly to be a doctor though, and without a medical degree even the marines also wouldn't accept him. So when the opportunity to join an upstart pirate crew as the ship doctor arose, he quickly accepted, as a means to fulfill his dreams. As the ship's doctor he was in charge of the infirmary as well, and made sure it was well stocked, being that the Kid pirates were always running face first into fights.

Double was the navigator, and thus could usually be found pouring over maps in the navigation room. When he wasn't there, he was at the helm, preferring to steer the ship himself lest some idiot henchman put them off course. He'd spent most of his teen years sailing on his own on a small boat in the South Blue, so even though helmsman was his preferred job, navigation skills had been a must have. It was for these skills that Kid had let him live when he'd found himself on the gang-ridden island where the other commanders resided, the last piece of the puzzle the Kid pirates had needed to go out to sea.

Lastly, there was Kid, who at first glance seemed like he did shit all, but it was his job to make sure everyone else was doing their jobs. He worked closely with all of the top dogs, keeping everyone on the same page and making the big decisions about where they were headed. He was also in charge of weapons, and could usually be found tinkering with new ideas for them in his workshop. His workshop was completely off limits to everyone except Killer, unless specifically invited in. And of course, it was his dream to become King of the Pirates that kept the whole crew moving forward, giving them all a common goal.

As soon as the tour was over, you had laid down for a nap, your sore body begging for the chance to lay flat after a week strapped to the mast. The crew hadn't expected to be converting a storage room for you when they landed at the marine base, so the room right now only consisted of an extra bed, hastily stolen from the marines before they left the island, and a small wooden box to act as a side table. It was more than enough for you though, after spending years in cells that had little more than a thin, dirty, sorry excuse for a mattress on the floor, if you were lucky, and a bucket or hole in the floor to piss in. Hell, this room even had a small porthole, what a luxury. A pillow and blanket had also been thrown on the bed, clearly stolen as well given the small repeating pattern of marine logos on them, but it was better than nothing.

You kicked off your shoes and flopped onto the bed, quickly getting comfortable on your back - not by choice but because of your mask limiting your ability to lay on your side or front. It’d been a long time since you had to sleep in it, you’d have to get used to it again. You wondered if Killer had the same issues. Without the mask, the overwhelming sounds around you would be too much to fall asleep. You made a mental note to find a piece of seastone to hold so you could sleep without it. Regardless, you had the best sleep she'd had in years. Heat tried to wake you for dinner, but you really did sleep like the dead, and unlike Killer he wasn't about to kick to rouse you, so he let you be.

You woke up the next morning in what was probably the best mood you had ever been in. For the first time since eating your devil fruit, you had woken up feeling truly free. You could leave whenever you wanted, but it was your choice to stay, and today, for the first time in your life, you would be allowed to choose your own clothes - the thought made you giggle to yourself with excitement. Your clothes had always either been picked out by your mother or the marines, with the exception of the jacket Atlas had given you. Your mind was racing with the possibilities and you thought about every fashionable woman you'd ever seen, though the last time you were able to walk the streets of any town was many years ago, fashion had no doubt changed since then. You would have Heat with your though, and he seemed like a fashionable guy, right? With his cool corset thingy and his tattoos. Yeah, Heat could help, definitely.

You slid out of bed and stretched, cringing as your knees audibly popped, years of cold cells and a week on the mast hadn't been kind to your joints. You straightened your mask and pulled down your borrowed shirt. The sky was green through the porthole, sunrise. Ah, your marine-built body clock was back in action apparently. You weren't at all surprised you'd slept through dinner, your body no doubt needed the reset. With your heart fluttering with excitement you left the room, making your way first to the commander's bathroom to pee and straighten your hair as best you could without a brush, then out to the deck. To be fair, you'd been using the ol’ finger comb for years, so it's not like your hair was ever that tidy to begin with.

You made your way to the front of the ship, where a large dinosaur skull was mounted. You'd seen several of the commanders sitting on it over the last week, but never anyone of a lower rank. You were, however, also technically a commander now, so you decided to climb on top to sit cross legged on the top of the skull, spotting the tiny dot on the horizon straight ahead that you assumed must be the island they were coming up on. You tuned your visor to see under the water, scanning quickly for seakings and thankfully finding none, though a large manta ray was dancing not far off the ship, and you watched its graceful movements under the water for a short while before setting your mask back to the default settings.

You turned your attention to the ship itself, stretching and exercising your devil fruit to scan it. You'd been bound in seastone for many years, you needed to practice as much as you could now that you knew you would have regular food to keep up your energy, so you could get back into your best fighting shape. Your job on this ship was as a human weapon, and you took that role seriously. You'd pull your weight, just like everyone else did, and prove you belonged here. You would protect this ship, and its crew. And kill lots of marines, of course. You made a mental note to ask someone to spar with you so you could get back in shape soon, though after the fight at the marine base you knew you were at least less rusty than you thought.

You closed your eyes, building a picture in your mind of the ship and its inhabitants, like a three dimensional schematic, sensing the different levels of vibrations from the molecules of all the things that made the Victoria Punk. It was something you found easier to do in your mind, rather than simply with your eyes and the right visor setting. It was easier to focus on the details like this, instead of just one singular view. You could see the cabin boys in their hammocks, a few were already quietly waking and sliding out of them. You could see the henchmen, all deep asleep save for one. Judging by the vibrations, you guessed a few were snoring. One was definitely jacking off in the bathroom, you watched out of curiosity for a moment but he didn't last much longer. ‘Boo, waste of a show’ you thought. The commanders and officers were all asleep as well, except for Wire, who seemed to be reading in bed.

You moved your mental image along to the front end of the ship, where Kid and Killer's rooms were, as well as the navigation room. Most of the other rooms were held towards the back of the ship, like the galley and officer's rooms, or under deck, which is where the henchmen and cabin boys slept, as well as most of the storage. Kid was sleeping soundly in his bed, notably without his metal arm, which appeared to be propped up against the bedside table. Killer's bed was empty, ‘how curious’.

Come to think of it, the officers and commanders were all in their beds, which meant Killer must be on watch. You scanned the crows nest - ‘ah, there he is’. The telltale change in vibrations that indicated his mask made it easy to identify him. He was definitely watching you, so you turned your head, looking over your shoulder up at him. You stared at each other for a moment, before he cracked at the strangely intimate staredown and looked away. He couldn't see your eyes, and you couldn't see his, but there was a weird mutual understanding in the glance. Respect, maybe? You couldn't name the feeling, and neither could he. Whatever it was, being caught staring at you made his heart beat funny, and he was deeply uncomfortable.

You let out a heavy exhale, releasing the visualization to come back to reality. You would need to practice more, definitely. It was a skill that would no doubt be useful to sharpen, but it was taking far more energy right now than it should. For now, you returned your attention to the horizon, focusing on the way the island, still just a speck on the horizon, slowly got bigger as you approached.

You stayed on the figurehead til the morning watch came to free Killer, and he found himself approaching you before he realized what his feet were doing. He leaned against the railing beside the skull and looked out to the sea where you were looking. It'd been about an hour since you woke up. He was an early riser regardless of the night watch, but he was surprised to see you up so early. A lot of the ex-marine crewmates woke early, but it'd been a long time since you were in service, he thought you would've grown out of the routine by now. Maybe it wasn't too surprising though, given you'd apparently slept for near fifteen hours. It was about fucking time you woke up, Killer didn't like people skipping meals so he wasn't at all impressed when you slept through dinner. Especially considering how emaciated you were, you needed every meal you could get if you were gonna get back in a good condition.

“Morin’ Killy,” you said, leaning back on your palms and turning your head to smile at him. His steps were near silent, but you'd felt the change in the air as he approached.

“Don't call me that,” he replied in his usual flat baritone.

“Grump,” you mumbled.

“You're up early,” he said, it was basically a question.

“I usually wake this early,” you replied, “I like sunrise. It's pretty, don't you think?”

The sun was just over the horizon now, almost directly in front of the ship, the sky now a dull orange that turned to a pale blue, the clouds painted ochre with heavy shadows. It reflected beautifully on the slightly choppy seas of the autumn island you were approaching, the air brisk and making the skin on your bare legs prickle with goosebumps. You didn't shiver though, your jacket keeping your upper half warm and the occasional use of your powers keeping your legs from freezing off.

Killer looked out at the sunrise. It was beautiful, to be frank, but he wasn't one to admit to thinking something was pretty. He just replied with a gruff grunt, before turning to leave for the galley.

“I'm gonna get started with breakfast,” he explained, then paused before speaking on a whim, “did you want to come help me?”

Your agreement with Kid was that you wouldn't be subjected to chores, but if Killer was cooking that meant he was doing it by choice, and only for the commanders. So really it wasn't a chore, it was helping with a hobby. You felt warmed to be invited to join him, and you quickly made up your mind to accept, hoping it would help you make friends here.

“Yeah okay,” you replied cheerfully, shimmying off the skull, “I don't know how to cook though”

“Really? You've never cooked? Or just shit at it?” He asked curiously as you walked towards the galley - not really together, it was more him walking at his own quick pace, and you almost jogging behind to keep up.

“You already know my past, when would I have ever learned?” you replied, a touch annoyed.

“Ah, right,” he said, feeling a little guilty, “sorry. I can teach you, if you'd like”

“Yeah, I think that'd be nice,” you replied. In truth, it was best you learned, in case you ever decided to leave the Kid pirates. It was also a good excuse to spend time with Killer. It seemed like he respected you, and was expected to show a certain level of civility considering your commander status, but that didn't mean he trusted you, or that you trusted him. But trust was important on a crew, you needed to know he'd have your back, and he needed to know you'd have his, so spending time together would help build that trust.

You followed him quietly into the galley, through to a back room past the serving counters that held the kitchen. A few henchmen and the officer in charge of the kitchen were already working on breakfast in the industrial setup, but there was a corner that was untouched. It seemed more homely, the equipment there all on a smaller, less commercial scale, more like what you'd find in a regular, domestic kitchen. It seemed to be Killer's domain, as he made a beeline for it, pulling out pans and ingredients from a fridge.

He pulled out a cookbook from a cabinet and handed it to you before returning to his rummaging. “Find me the recipe for breakfast muffins, and then get out all the ingredients it lists”

He didn't notice the way you stared blankly at the book before opening it, carefully observing the pictures on each page. He was halfway through frying his first batch of bacon before he realised you hadn't moved. “Just find it in the contents page at the front and flick to that page,” he explained. He was trying very hard to be patient.

His patience wore thin when several minutes later you still hadn't pulled out any ingredients, and he turned to yell at you, a deep pre-scorn breath already taken, before noticing the sour expression on your face and putting two-and-two together with a stark realization, the breath he'd taken let out with a heavy exhale.

“You can't read,” he stated.

“Sorry…” you whispered. You felt utterly stupid, and put the book down on the counter in defeat, trying your best not to look at him. He thought hard about what you'd said earlier - when had you had the opportunity to learn to cook? Similarly, when had you had the opportunity to learn to read? He felt wracked with guilt now, it wasn't your fault nobody had taught you to read, and you were clearly embarrassed about it. One conversation and he'd already managed to accidentally hit a sore spot with you, he felt awful about it. He wondered how many other basic skills you'd never been taught.

“It's okay,” he said, softer than he expected it to come out. He put a hand to your waist and gently pulled you in front of the hob, handing your the tongs he'd been prodding the bacon with, “Here, why don't you come cook the bacon instead, just keep shifting it and flipping them every now and then so it doesn't stick, till it looks like the ones I already cooked”

You graciously accepted the change in task while he turned his attention to the book, quickly flicking to the page he needed and scanning the ingredients, before starting to retrieve them from the fridge and cabinets. You were quiet, far quieter than he expected, it made him uneasy.

“You shouldn't feel ashamed of it,” he said as he measured out several cups of flour into a sieve, “those marine pigs should have taught you. Selfish pricks. It's not too late to learn though. We can teach you”

“You don't have to do that,” you replied, a sadness in your voice that made your sound like a kicked puppy, “that sounds like a lot of extra work for all of you, I don't need to be able to read to kill”

He paused. It dawned on him that your whole life you'd been treated like nothing but an object - whether that be as a weapon, or a warm body to fuck. Had anyone ever treated you with any ounce of kindness since being separated from your mother? Those marine cunts really did a number on you, you were somehow even worse off than he'd initially thought. He knew your life had been fucked, but it seemed like every conversation with you revealed another awful part of your backstory, and he wondered how deep the hole went.

“You're more than just a weapon,” he said, collecting some of the bacon he'd cooked earlier to dice up for the muffins, “you're a human. You're allowed to have your own wants and needs. Do you want to learn to read?”

You paused your prodding and looked at him. He returned your glance, your mouth making a tight line as you visibly tried not to cry. “Yes…” you said quietly.

“Then I'll teach you,” he said, returning to the bacon, “it's not a big deal, you'll be more useful to us anyway if you can read”

There was a long, pregnant pause while you tried to avoid the whole topic of your lack of basic skills, and while Killer swam around in his guilt. Not to mention, he had no idea how the fuck to teach someone to read. Maybe he would ask Wire, he taught Killer and Kid to read after all.

“... I think this bacon is done,” you said anxiously, trying to change the subject. He slid a little closer to look at the pan, his arm brushing against yours in the process. You flinched a little at the unexpected contact.

“Yeah, it looks good,” he said, quickly moving away before the accidental touching could register properly in his brain. You were quiet again while you removed the bacon from the pan, holding each piece over the pan for a few moments the way you'd seen him do earlier, so the excess oil could drip off.

“Hey Killer?” you almost whispered, staring at the plate of bacon, not quite sure what to do with yourself now.

“Mm?”

“Could I maybe borrow some more clothes?” you asked nervously, “just till I have a chance to buy my own today. I was hoping to have a shower before I disembark”

“Yeah that's fine,” he replied, pouring the finished muffin batter in to a greased muffin tray, “I'll grab you something after breakfast”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, before excusing yourself to go sit at the commander's table, not really in the mood to talk or help cook anymore.

Your mood picked back up once Heat woke up and joined you at the commander's table, just as excited as you about your shopping trip. The rest of the commanders joined not long after, with Kid arriving just in time for Killer to finish cooking. It was almost like Killer knew exactly when to expect him and had timed his cooking accordingly.

Kid slammed down a dagger and thigh holster on the table in front of you as he sat down, digging straight into the freshly baked breakfast muffins, scrambled eggs and bacon Killer put in front of him.

“Oh, my knife!” you exclaimed, immediately working on attaching the purple leather holster to your thigh. You picked up the dagger and inspected it, it was cleaner and sharper than it had been in years, the delicate floral engravings on the handle now completely free of tarnish. “You cleaned it for me? It looks brand new!”

“It's a well made blade,” Kid said with a mouth full of food, “real fucking shame those marine cunts didn't keep it maintained”

“Well, thank you,” you said with a genuine smile, “I appreciate it, truly”

“Consider it a welcome gift,” he said, brushing it off. He turned to Heat, who had not long finished his breakfast. “Make sure you get her a second weapon today, you know how I don't like not having back-ups. And make sure you gets some warm shit, there's some winter islands coming up, lanky bitch will freeze to death without a proper coat”

“Oi, what's wrong with my jacket?” you pouted, “I'll have you know this is Vegapunk tech, it's more insulating than anything you own. I could do with some pants though, I don't know how much longer I can survive in Killer's shirts and skivvies”

Kid spit out his food in surprise, looking with amused astonishment between you and Killer, “You're wearing Killer's underwear? That's fucking hilarious”

“You thought I was just freeballing it under here?” you laughed.

“A man can dream,” he grinned, “but Killer's undies is definitely ruining the fantasy”

“Damn, what a shame,” you smirked, “well, there goes my chances to be queen of the pirates. Killer, you need a duchess? I mean I'm assuming you'll make him a duke, right? I better invest early”

“I have a position open for you,” Heat toyed.

You and Kid only had to glance at each other before you both erupted in a fit of laughter and in perfect unison yelled “I'M SURE YOU WANT PLENTY OF POSITIONS”

Heat slammed his head on the table with a long groan while you and the captain almost died of laughter, Kid very nearly choking on a muffin. “I walked into that one,” Heat mumbled into the table. Double and Mohawk didn't quite understand the inside joke, but were losing their minds nonetheless. Wire had a shit eating grin on his face at Heat's expense and Killer's shoulders were shimmying in silent laughter.

“Fuck you're a laugh,” Kid laughed, finally catching his breath and smacking you on the shoulder playfully, that was definitely going to bruise, “spend whatever you want today, the log pose will reset tomorrow morning so make sure you get everything you need. I'll hand Heat the money before we dock”

Killer started to stand, as entertaining as this was, he needed to get some sleep before they docked, “I'll leave clothes for you in your room” he told you as he started to leave.

“Thanks Killy!” you shouted after him.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled as he left.

The ship came into port not long after breakfast, well ahead of schedule thanks to the strong winds around the autumn island. The ship was moored at a small secluded bay, about a fifteen minute walk from the main town, where a small dock had been built on a pleasant stretch of sandy beach. It was far too cold for swimming, but the weather was set to be fine for a bonfire, and there were plenty of trees near the beach to build one. Usually they would have no problem with dropping anchor at the main dock of a small island like this, but given the plans for partying later, they wanted a more private spot.

Heat could barely keep up with you, excitedly skipping along the small worn down path that led to the town ahead of the rest of the group, which was made up of mostly those who had supplies to buy, including most of the commanders. Double wasn't keen on the fifteen minute walk each way, so he'd volunteered to stay with the ship. As soon as the town came into view you were grabbing Heat's hand and dragging him along, anxious to get started.

The first shop you went to was for furniture. Kid expected his commanders to be kept to a certain level of comfort above the other crewmates, to give the henchmen and cabin boys something to work towards, so a small stolen bed and a wooden crate wasn't going to do. They'd come to this store first so henchmen could collect the furniture once they'd rented a cart, so they could bring it all back to the ship and set it up while you were still out.

It was tricky, you'd never even considered buying furniture before and had no idea what you even liked. There weren't any options at these stores along the lines of ‘gross, moldy, incredibly thin mattress with questionable stains’. Thankfully the room was small, all you needed to choose was a bed and mattress, a bedding set, a side table, a chest of drawers, and perhaps some curtains and a few decorations. The decorations for the most part could wait though, they'd probably come more naturally as things caught your eye during the day.

The easiest thing to start with was the mattress. you took your time laying on each of the display options, ultimately picking the hardest one you could find. After years of sleeping on a thin foam pad you simply couldn't get comfortable on a soft bed, though even the hardest option was far softer than what you were used to and softer even than the worn down, stolen mattress you'd slept on last night.

Next came the furniture. If you picked a set it would save you making three individual choices for the bed, side table and dresser. The island was well known for its wood production, so the store featured many finely crafted sets of different wood types to choose from. A purpleheart set caught your eye, with floral carvings embellishing the drawer fronts and headboard. It was probably garish by normal standards and made for a little girl, but you'd never really had a chance at a childhood so who could fault you for wanting it. Heat seemed to approve of the set, saying it suited you, and you picked out a set of yellow floral bedding with a soft, downy comforter to match it.

The only thing left now were the decorations. You wandered around the entire store, followed closely by a sales associate who was noting down everything you were ordering, almost salivating at the commission fee he was going to get from this massive order. You had no idea you’d picked out some of the most expensive items, given you couldn't read, but the Kid pirates had money to spare looting the base they found you on, so Heat hadn't stopped you. With his help and suggestions you picked out a decently sized round mirror with a purple heart frame to match the other furniture, a small brass lamp that was shaped like a droopy flower, some plain cream coloured curtains on a brass rod, and a small, round, lilac rug with a faint floral pattern in slightly darker purple.

Happy with your choices, the sales associate totaled up the amount and Heat handed over a thick stack of money, the sales associate thanking him profusely and quickly setting off to yell at some other employees about getting the order ready for collection. A successful first stop all in all.

Next, Heat took you to a home goods store. You mostly just wandered around, picking up little trinkets here and there to decorate your room, but Heat made sure you picked out several spare sets of sheets, towels, hand cloths and a practical looking duffel bag for occasions when the commanders stayed at inns. He also made sure you got a laundry basket and a lockable box for valuables, in case a sticky fingered cabin boy happened to be cleaning your room.

The next store you went to was for weapons. Being trained by the marines for so long meant you were proficient with many weapons, but you preferred knives and swords since you could use your devil fruit to heat or cool the blade. The old man who worked at the store helped you pick out a katana with a beautiful wavy hamon and a handle wrapped in dark purple cord. You were disappointed that they didn't have anything in the way of fun coloured holsters, so you selected a basic tan coloured belt, which as an added bonus helped cinch Killer's baggy shirt you were wearing, and after Heat haggled for a good price you slipped the new sword in to your belt. You doubted it'd get much use but Kid was right, it was good to have a backup, and a dagger was easy to lose in the chaos of battle. You hoped to eventually find a cross body holster in a colour to match your thigh holster, but that could wait for now.

Before leaving the store a thought occurred to you, and you asked the old man if they sold any seastone. He hummed to himself in thought before disappearing into a back storage room, reappearing shortly after with a small, worn down cardboard box and placing it on the counter. Inside was a variety of seastone pieces, all raw, ranging in size and shape.

“I was going to make weapons from these, but my arthritis got the better of me,” he explained, “take whatever you want, they're not of much use to me now anyway”

You rummaged through the box and selected a small piece of seastone, chucking it in the pocket of your jacket, before thanking the man and leaving. It was small enough to hold in a closed palm, with edges that had been smoothed by time, perfect for your needs. Heat didn't know what you wanted with a piece of seastone, he didn't know a single devil fruit user who wanted seastone, but he handed the man a tip anyway to thank him for his kindness before following after you.

Heat had wisely planned to get all the most important shopping out of the way before you started on clothes, which would no doubt take the entire afternoon, so he dragged you away from a small boutique to go to a basic grocery store. There he made sure you picked out all your basics, like hygiene products. You spent a fair while standing in front of the shampoos and body washes, sniffing each of them before deciding on a matching set of mango and coconut milk scented washes, and a fluffy purple loofah puff. You also spent a fair while standing in front of the hair removal products, wondering whether that was something you should do. This whole time your legs had been out and fully forested - not that your thin, pale, lavender hairs were much of an eyesore. You'd never considered it a choice before, you’d often been forced to wax by perverted commanders but it'd never been your choice. Ultimately you grabbed a bright pink razor, deciding that maybe you enjoyed smooth, shaved skin, as well as grabbing a pack of pads. You only ever needed one or two each cycle given the way you used your devil fruit, and it'd probably be months before it was back, but it didn't hurt to have them on hand.

After begging and pleading, Heat also allowed you to also buy a serious amount of candy and chocolates. You were going to get fucked up on sugar and artifical colours tonight and nobody was going to stop you. You also picked up a hairbrush and a significant amount of hair ties and bobby pins. You had a specific way you liked to do your hair, back before your imprisonment, but you were always losing your accessories.

By now several hours had passed, and both of you were exhausted from shopping, with the hardest part still to come, so you set out to find lunch. You'd both just grabbed several takeaway containers of food from a street vendor and were looking for somewhere to sit when a snotty looking blonde girl bumped into Heat, very purposely making him drop his food.

“Oops, sorry freak!” she laughed, her boyfriend and the other couple they were with snickering behind her, “it's fine though right? I don't see any brains in the mess, so you probably weren't going to eat it anyway right?” she looked at you with a snarky smirk, “or maybe it was for your skinny little whore?”

You were about to rip her head clean off her body when Heat grabbed your arm to calm you. “It's not worth it,” he whispered, his eyes somehow looking even sadder than usual, “we've still got plenty, let's go sit and eat before my feet fall off.”

He completely ignored the group's continued slew of snide remarks as you walked away, dragging you, almost feral, behind him to a quiet bench that looked out over the water. He basically had to force you to sit, still entirely intent on going back and beating the shit out of her.

“What are we doing? We should just kill that bitch,” you growled. He opened the food container in your hand and shoved a fork in it.

“Eat,” he said plainly.

“Heaaaaaat let me go kill her! It'll be so quick I promise!” He couldn't help but think it was cute that you were begging to kill someone the same way you'd begged for candy only half an hour ago. It was sweet, in a fucked up, Kid Pirates kind of way.

“If you kill her it'll make a scene and then it'll be a whole thing and we won't get to shop anymore,” he explained, grabbing one of the unspoilt containers you'd been carrying, “it's fine, I'll just kill her tomorrow if I see her around”

“Fineee,” you pouted, shoving a forkful of fried noodles in your mouth, “but take me with you, I wanna see her bald after I fry her hair follicles. What the fuck did she mean about brains?”

“She was implying I look like a zombie,” he explained, eating his own food, entirety unbothered. You paused and took a long, hard look at him.

“I don't get it,” you said blankly, “I thought zombies were supposed to be like… all gory and ugly and shit. You're too cute to be a zombie”

“That's sweet of you to say, but I get the zombie comment a lot,” he smiled. He was more than used to it by now, but he liked the way he looked and that was all that mattered, the rude comments didn't really bother him anymore.

“Well, they're blind idiots then,” you said plainly, “and I'll fry ALL of their hair follicles”

“Can you actually do that?” he asked curiously, pointing a fork at you, “why did you buy a razor then?”

“Cos it hurts like a bitch, duh,” you laughed, “I did it once to my cooter cos I got sick of sticking my leg in the air to wax it and I swear I still feel it sometimes”

Heat laughed and tried not to think too hard about your apparently bare pussy. ‘Killer's skivvies, Killer's skivvies, Killer's skivvies’ he repeated to himself to keep his dick calm. Unfortunately he immediately remembered your comments from dinner yesterday about picking out panties, and had to basically stab himself in his leg with the fork he was holding.

“You good Heatie Baby?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yup,” he wheezed, “perfectly fine, eat your food so we can get moving”

Clothes shopping with a woman who had no idea what she liked ended up being a whole situation, who would have thought. The sales clerks clocked you the second you walked in, and you immediately fell victim to them, ending up with several expensive perfumes, a couple of lipsticks that “made your visor pop”, and a handful of nail polishes in your basket before you'd even reached the clothing section.

Picking out clothes was chaotic, and you had no idea what size you were so you had to pick out several of every item and try on everything before making choices. At Heat's suggestion though, you bought everything in a size too big, knowing that hopefully soon, with proper nutrition, you'd be able to put some weight back on. At some point a sales associate noticed Heat's massive handful of options he was carrying for you, as well as his many other shopping bags, and immediately offered to help (which was definitely absolutely nothing to do with getting a commission bonus, definitely). She ended up being extremely helpful in the end though, procuring a cart and helping you select fashionable items that suited you and worked well with your prized jacket, in your selected size so you didn't have to try on several of each item. She even helped you select several sets of shoes to match, as well as some other smaller accessories like hair barrettes and ribbons, and a few necklaces and bracelets. After spotting your marine tattoo you even helped you find a nicer belt for your weapon, in a purple leather that matched your thigh holster. Still not crossbody like you'd like, but better than the previous tan one. ‘Funny how much sway a tattoo she was forced to get has’ Heat thought to himself.

Heat was especially thankful for the woman's help when they reached the underwear section. She showed Heat the ‘boyfriend seat’ before whisking you away to find your bra size and help you pick out a good amount of sets, as well as several sports bras and some more practical panties. The last thing you needed were some pajamas, and you opted for some dainty negligees and a couple of sets of warmer pajamas for cold nights.

By the time you were done it was late afternoon, and you left the store with a truly ridiculous amount of shopping bags - most of them carried by Heat of course, ever the gentleman that he was. All round though it had been a good day, and Heat had enjoyed spending it with you, even if it meant he was too tired to go chasing whores now. He'd have to wait till the next island to get his dick wet.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

[tmwcs]

hi, this is my first time sending an ask I really don't know how stuff here works jdjsjs but i have body dysmorphia and lately it's been getting worse so will it be possible to write something for ethan/heeseung where he finds out y/n is on a diet or is skipping meals because she has put on a few pounds & feels insecure, like she refuses to sit on heeseung's lap because she thinks he will notice her weight gain, tries to suck her stomach in and usually heeseung goes with her when she wants to shop for new lingerie or clothes but she's too embarrassed because her size increased so she refuses to take him or uk? things like that. I'm sorry if these type of scenarios are triggering for u and it's perfectly fine if u don't write them🤍

My sweet anon, I have decided to put your ask ahead of the line bc i feel like the drabble/heethans message is crucial for you to read and for everyone to see because i can't stress the fact that while I may not know you, see you, or hear your voice, trust me when i say you are perfect and beautiful the way you are. i'll let you read first and add on to my notes on the bottom ;) but i hope you enjoy this and that i succeeded in giving you what you were expecting. sorry this isn't proofread because i had to do this piece on my phone in my moms car as we were driving around running errands. but i hope its still a good read ( i personally think it is) <3

warnings: body dysmorphia, thoughts of anorexia, starving yourself, refusing to eat, self body shaming, insecurities, fear of body shaming, i think that's it.

"Masterpiece"

Sitting at his desk, Heeseung types away, grading papers and completing the tasks for his professor as the teacher's assistant. Its a good thing he gains extra credit and extreme leverage with the staff at the college, otherwise there would be no appeal in participating in this program.

Walking up to his mini fridge, you opened the door and grabbed two water bottles. Atop of the fridge were some snacks, and for a moment you thought it be harmless to munch on a few sweet potato chips, but feeling how heavy your gut was shunned you from the idea.

You hand him a water, to which he looks up and smiled at you delightfully as he takes it. "Huh, thanks baby." wrapping his arm around your hips, he pulls you in as he looks at the screen, yet your reflexes and instinct caused your body to shift movement and roll right out of his arm. Twirling like a ballerina, you played it off as you sat on his bed and issued a half hearted chuckle as you sipped your water.

Raising his brows and giving a confused chuckle, he merely found it playful and let you be as he continued grading his papers. Finally when he was finished, he stretched his arms and legs, and eyed you down as he watched you reading some articles on your phone.

Sitting himself next to you on the bed, his hands make their way on to your waist, and you jolted as you tried to move away once you felt him lifting you to sit you on his lap.

"no wait...!"

Looking at you with a raised brow and wide eyes, he took your hesitancy as he normally did. "Playing hard to get again?" biting his lip, he chuckles, "You know that only fuels me.....does pretty baby wanna be chased?" he leans in and teases as he nuzzles his face into your neck. "you can ruuuuuuun but you can't hiiiiiiiide."

You peeled yourself away and scooted into the opposite corner of the bed where you cradled your legs to your chest, and gave him a bold faced lie. "I think i might be starting shark week soon.....i'm feeling lots of cramps and pain....i just cant right now."

Avoiding eye contact, you slightly bit your lip as you spoke, feeling the somewhat perturbed look he was giving you. "....okay. did you need me to pick you up some stuff from the store?"

Shaking your head, you remained turned away as you continued to shun yourself away.

"well come here and let me hold you at least."

"no......its fine."

"oh i wasn't asking y/n."

"heeseung no!"

Pulling you against your wishes, he lays you down as he spoons you and grabs the remote, "its okay y/n, how many times do i have to tell you, I dont mind if you get blood on me. its no big deal."

But it was a big deal......because you weren't about to start your menstrual cycle nor were you feeing any cramps, the only pain you were feeling were that from hunger. You don't know how, but you had recently gained five pounds and ever since, you hadn't looked at yourself the same. Every time you see yourself in the mirror, you shun away, swearing that you looked much swollen than the previous day. Not to mention, the amount of water weight you were containing from all the restrictions you were placing on your diet. Since you began starving yourself, your body had reacted by storing more water, thus, you even began drinking less, causing yourself to feel dehydrated.

Over the next week and a half, you hardly ate, claiming you didn't have an appetite at all, in which Heeseung would give you a perplexed and concerned look, figuring that it was all due to your menstrual cycle that you kept using as an excuse to avoid his touch and food.

"huh....shark week this time around must really be bad.....i'll at least go get you some soup and some water." he would tell you, always remembering that during your menstrual cycle, you would get certain cravings for snacks and was always thirsty.

The hunger pains were excruciating, yet the moment you had to suck in your breath just to squeeze in your jeans, you felt like you needed to do more to shed the weight off.

the other day, you and heeseugn walked through the mall, peeking into a variety of shops, to include clothing boutiques. as you walked through the store, you reminded yourself that you needed to get some new undergarments. walking ahead, you looked around until you found the lingerie department. Thankfully Heeseung didn't seem to notice how you avoided looking at any of the pieces, trying not to give off any bit of interest and risking him wanting to see you in it. trying to distract him, you asked if he wouldn't mind going to the other end of the store to get you some slippers. to which he declined as he refused to let you out of his sight.

"but....we can knock two birds with one stone if you would go grab it while i get a couple of thins from here."

"its fine, grab whatever you need and we'll go get your slippers right after."

"but......"

"y/n.....i said go get your things."

harshly snapping your arms across your chest, you shut yourself out and murmured out "i change my mind, i dont want anything from here, lets just go."

"what the hell is wrong with you?"

"nothing, i just....i just dont really need anything from here, they dont have what i'm looking for."

shaking his head as he rolled his eyes, he takes your hand and falls into your pool of lies.

After another week had passed over, you swore you didn't look the same as you had, did you gain more weight? why did your jeans and tops feel tighter? With the sudden image in your head of how swollen your body must have looked, you took things further by avoiding water and food altogether, committing to acts such as pretending to eat, or claiming the food wasn't tasting right at the restaurant. At the theater, every time Heeseung handed you the popcorn as he often would get you both a large bucket to share, you reached in and grabbed a few kernal's but hid them in your pocket or in your empty drink cup instead of eating it. You had done your best to remain inconspicuous of the matter.

"Does he think i look different? what if i gain weight and he might think i look fat? will he leave me? what am i going to do?"

Each time you looked in the mirror, your hands would travel and pinch out rolls of skin from your tummy, thighs, under arms, and even on your cheek. You swore that you not only saw the weight, you could now feel it in between your fingers as you snagged on skin and bits of fat content from your body at random. Deciding to take it up a notch, you even started to commit to cardio exercises while avoiding calories and water altogether, barely munching on a cube of cheese every 48 hours when the hunger pains began to be too much.

With the amount of water you were avoiding, your skin began to look sunken and rather dull, yet it didnt matter, you needed to refrain from anything that would allow you to gain another pound. You avoided the scale, only opting to glance at the mirror from time to time which had caused your mind and heart to shatter, because despite the fact that you were starving and dehydrating yourself, you swore your body had looked immensely bigger than the day before.

"I look fatter.....i can't, maybe instead of cheese....i'll munch on a grape or a piece of carrot.....i'll just drink a half a bottle water next time."

Your mind was racing, the only thing you could think about was how you hated your body and the way it looked from whenever you would peek over to look in the mirror.

The day that you dreaded the most finally came when heeseung became relentless, as usual, and was adamant about touching his "pretty baby" after not being able to enjoy you for a full week from 'shark week'.

"Come here."

"no heeseung no!"

"Oooooh yes.....come here......"

"no...please stop!"

"being tenacious about this whole cat and mouse thing aren't you?" he smirks, teasing and mistaking your hesitant reaction as a playful gesture of toying with him. Leaning into your ear, he whispers "where you gonna run? hmm?" following his words, he sucks on your helix.

It wasn't until his hands traveled upward and slid under your shirt, touching your skin. You jolted out of his grasp and shouted "NO!!!!!!"

Lifting his head up, grabbing onto your wrists and displaying a harsh, and rather angry look on his face, he sternly warned you.

"........did you just fucking scream at me?" biting his lip down and hissing, Heeseung expressed his intolerance of your behavior. Never have you ever shouted at him to that degree, and he wasn't going to take it.

"do i need to punish you or teach you a lesson? hmm? am i too nice? because if you want me to be mean about it, i can. which way do you want it y/n?" his words and his tone were harsh, he stared into your eyes with a look of displeasure and anger. With tears forming in your eyes, you began to sob.

his expression never changed, in fact, he merely spat out even harsher words as he taunted you.

"cry all you want, it's not going to change a damn thing. you know that, right? so fucking pick how you want it, and say you're sorry already, because one way or another, you're going to get wrecked."

with the already set intention of punishing you for your discretion of shouting at him, you sobbed hard as you turned your face away and whimpered out...

"i'm.......i'm....just.....i'm hungry......."

raising his brow, he shifted his eyes up and around, reflecting his mind working as he leaned his head slightly inward. With furrowed brows, his expression remained reflecting anger and annoyance, yet his tone was rather confused as he bid you to elaborate. "what?....."

you sobbed and whimpered out your cries as you broke down, all the while Heeseung had you pinned down under his frame.

"I'm hungry.....i'm mad.....i'm upset and i just....i feel so weak. the headaches wont go away and they're getting worse, i can't....i .......i cant....."

His expression grew even more stern as you continued to throw out words that only confused him. It was angry, yet.....he only looked angry because he couldn't understand.

"What are you..." stopping at mid sentence, he props himself up while pinning your arms to your sides. Leaning his head in as he remained hovered over you, he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.

"Breathe, y/n. Breathe, deep breaths...." he guides you as your panting gasps from sobbing so hard became unbreakable at a high pattern of rapid bursts.

"shhhh.....breeeeathe....." his tone softens, bidding as he guided you, you started to relax your breathing and breathed deeply as he committed in getting you to relax. "that's it.........slowly........there...."

Once you had finally calmed down, the streams of your tears continued to fall down, despite your bursts of sobs coming to an end.

"Now.....from the top, tell me what is wrong."

"...........I can't.......i just......i'm so..."

".....hungry?" he raises a perplexed brow as he leans his face in, flaring a slight bit of an attitude as he gave an expecting look to you.

"yes......"

"and.......why are you hungry?" with a tone that hinted he was aiming towards something, he was forcing the information out of you as he coaxed you into opening up.

"........i wasn't.......i wasn't on shark week....."

taking a deep breath in, he looked at you as he blinked in disbelief. "......what?"

"I wasn't.....i.......i had gained weight and.......i hate the way i feel......the way i look......."

shifting his eyes from left to right, reflecting his confused state, he leaned over to his propped arm as he shifted his free hand over to his mouth and stroked his chin. "....so all this time....when we were out.....the restaurants and the theaters, all those times-" cutting himself off, he rubbed his forehead and sighed out "fuck...." as he rubbed his temples. he noticed that you weren't eating, yet your constant white lie of telling him that you were on shark week, or that you remained bloated after the fact because of the water weight, had directed him to believe you and causing him to think that you merely were just skipping out on a meal or two, not days or weeks worth.

"when was the last time you ate y/n?"

shamefully, you couldn't even remember the last time you ate a small meal, let alone a full one. going on nearly two weeks, you had barely munched on anything, even a mere snack.

"i....i dont know...."

"you dont know?....how the fuck? what have you been doing? have you eaten anything?" he snaps as he looked at you with wide eyes.

"....i.......i eat a piece of cheese and half a water..."

with his mouth parting slightly, he watched as you start to shamefully sob once more.

"......what did you do to the sandwich at the bakery earlier? he asked.

"i.......i threw it out when you weren't looking...." you admitted, shamefully apologizing as you recounted to pretending to eat on some of the occasions that heeseung went to take you to a shop for lunch or dinner. you had become so crafty in telling white lies and hiding the fact that you weren't eating, not even he noticed your lack of nutritional consumption.

Rubbing his temples harder, he gazed at you with wide eyes. ".....why?" he calmly asks.

"Because i hate the way i look.........i've gained weight and i cant take it!" you gasped out as you sobbed out hard.

letting you sob, he continued to look down at you and patiently waited for you to get everything out of your system. once your cryings came to a standstill, he gently tones out "you done?"

With a harsh expression, you looked at him with furrowed brows. how could he be so heartless? you were struggling and you both knew you were unhealthy, not just physically but you were struggling mentally to gain positivity of your image, yet he had no compassion in his voice or his words.

"....w-what?" you stuttered out.

"I said 'are you done?'....or do you need to cry some more?" he asks, still reflecting a harsh look on his face.

looking at him, you shifted your gaze down, feeling too confused, somewhat angry and hurt by his lack of sincerity on the matter. in fact, it had distracted you so much that you truly were done crying.

"looks like you are. get up." lifting himself off of you, he grabs his cap and pulls you off the bed, handing you your jacket.

"wh....where are we-"

"come on." cutting you off, he takes your arm and applied harsh force as he dragged you out of the house and into his car.

"stop! i dont want anything! i'm not eating anything, i wont!" you snapped out, figuring he was taking you to go and feed you.

"shuddap y/n and get in the fucking car before i make you." he sighs out as he inadvertently swallows his words and pushes your head down, shoving you in the passenger seat.

driving, you were somewhat surprised that he passed by a series of eatery spots that you both frequently visited. You grew even more confused when he took you to the international museum of art down town.

parking the car and buying the tickets, you figured he was taking you to the museum to get your mind off things. yet his forceful mannerisms remained as he dragged you passed each cultural zone, passing nearly every exhibit.

"why did we come here if we're just going to walk pass everything?" you inquired somewhat irritated from being pulled around, not to mention him never once turning back and giving you an answer.

"what are you doing?" you gasped out as he walked fast paced, dragging you closely behind. still being unresponsive, he continued to pull you through the crowds as he took you to the set destination that he had in mind to show you.

Walking passed a series of statues, walls adorned with cultural masks from Africa, another was draped with silk wall paintings from Asia, he swiftly pulls you past each exhibit, causing you to wonder where exactly he was bringing you to. taking sharp corners, walking up a myriad of stairs, you started to lose your breath as he continued to drag you behind, walking through the halls of scenic crafts that the museum was known for.

finally coming to a pause in his steps, after bringing you across the other end of the large building, he pulls you by his side and wraps his arm around your waist as he pointed towards a massive wall and calmly instructs you to "look."

Looking over in the direction of where he was pointing, you witnessed a wide display of paintings decorating the wall.

Narrowing down to one specific painting, he pulls you in and brings you in front of the portrait.

"who is she?" you asked while studying the painting.

"That's Cleopatra, known throughout history as the most beautiful woman in the world. she was 4'11 in height, and carried enough weight to conceal some of her pregnancies." he sharply stated. Looking up at him, you portrayed a rather blank expression as he continued to stare at the painting and opened up on his pensive thought aloud.

"One thing I'll never understand, is how can we as people, claim to be more progressive, understanding, and wise in today's day in age, more so than we were back hundreds of years ago? we tell and teach each children to not discriminate, yet we do it all the time to ourselves. There is nothing in the world that is more diverse than beauty itself, it is the most ethical and divergent concept in the entire universe, but somehow, we can't learn to embrace the varied notion behind it. We can't accept the belief that it comes in all forms and variants. We sometimes look at ourselves and can't find happiness or comfort, because we place restrictions and shame on what is actually beautiful and meaningful. It might be because of our upbringing, fashion, media, or ....shit, it could even be our own parents or friends....it could be anything these days. But one thing i know for sure baby, is that you're more than perfect the way you are, even if you gained some weight. it never bugged me, in fact, i think it brings a more feminine quality to your body."

Shocked with a wide eyed expression, you looked up at him and inquired for him to elaborate his statement. "You......knew?"

Smirking at you while rolling his eyes, he pulled you close to his side. "Y/n......when are you ever going to get it through to your head girl, i love you and i'm crazy about you, and i pay close attention because i find myself wanting to see, taste, hear, and experience more of you. so yeah, i knew, and i see nothing but goodness in it, plus i care more about your comfort, i have no reason to be concerned so long as you are happy. listen to me really closely when i tell you baby, these women all made history and shaped the world, they all carried different skin tones, body shapes, sizes and status, but the one thing they all had in common was their beauty, and you, are the ideal reflection of each and every single one of them and what they stood for. i can understand if you may want to change something about yourself, if you're not happy about gaining weight or you don't feel comfortable, that's fine. I'm not going to try and change your mind, just be healthy about it, eat well and exercise. but if you wanna take my word for it, the way you are right now, even if you had gained more weight, gain twenty more pounds for all i care, i see nothing but a masterpiece. if today's society would have remained just as it did hundreds of years ago, where people were smart, philosophical, and creative, you would have been looked at and idolized as art........you are.....art." he trailed off, as he held your hand and gave you a reassured smile.

"Don't think you have to change a thing about yourself......you're my Cleopatra, and every single second of the day when i get to look at you, i think of these portraits and wished to God that i could paint one of you to hang up on this very same wall. you belong with these women.....you've earned your place among them." squeezing your hand gently, he kisses the top of your head.

He was right, if you truly wanted to change and shed the weight you've gained, there was a way to do it, yet suddenly after hearing him talk and feeling his touch and kiss, you didn't mentally place so much emphasis on your body anymore. thinking about the weight gain didn't have the same affect on you, you didn't feel shameful, gross, or discomfort, quite the opposite in fact, you were now beginning to see the good qualities of the weight gain. Your curves were more full, giving you a more feminine appeal, which Heeseung had loved. your skin was softer, and your face was far more youthful looking as your cheeks had a nice supple shape. you were still as beautiful to him since the day he saw you, and that itself had made you happier than ever. heeseung didn't love you because of the weight gain, he loved you for you, and everything that comes after only made him love you more.

smirking back, you joked back a response. "so......if i want to change my hair......and cut it really short, will you let me?" you chuckled out.

"no." he gently laughs out. "there are some things that should just not be altered......like the beauty of the world..... your face......your hair, your sense of style, your personality, and your good nature. i want those to stay forever.....in fact, i want you to stay forever." pulling you in, he places a long kiss on your forehead.

"lets go grab something to eat, and if you want, tomorrow i can take you to the gym on campus. Only if you want to."

shaking your head, you calmly tell him as you hug him back, while staring at the painting of the Egyptian queen. "no......i feel better......if i change my mind i'll let you know......but i am good now.......thank you."

placing another kiss on your head, he whispers "good girl. from now on, if something is bothering you, come talk to me and we can fix it together....if it even needs fixing.....i love you and i see nothing but perfection within you." with another kiss, he stares back up at the painting, where you both admired for a while before leaving the museum.

Of course, one trip to the museum wasn't going to fix your problem overnight, you suffered at feeling shameful and anxiety from looking at your reflection, but it didn't hurt so bad....now that you had Heeseung to remind you nearly every day how beautiful you were to him; little by little, he was healing you. There were even times where he would participate in the healing process and would get you both a healthy salad for lunch, salmon for dinner, take you on a long nature walk, or maybe even take you to go swimming at the pool at the college. never being forceful about it, heeseung was bringing out the highlight of your energy and focus, and relocating your mentality to all the activities, causing you to focus less on the images and thoughts of your body. at the end of each event, he'd kiss you lovingly as he reminded how good you were to him, always reminding you when you needed to hear it most.....

"you're a masterpiece. if Gods own angels combined their efforts with the greatest painters and architects, they still couldn't make something more beautiful than you. i could have a hundred variations of you, and it still wouldn't even be enough, i need you in my sight all the time, you're everything to me. so let me feast. let me fall in love all over again......let me appreciate and love the lines and curves of you, and let me kiss every single inch of you, the more of you there is, the happier i'll be. because i want to kiss you more...i want to love you more....i want to fuck you more. i just want more......so let me have more of you....let me have all of you......let me have you the way you are now and let me have what you will become in the future days that come forth. dont deprive me of that......just let me have you.....y/n. I promise, you're always going to have me."

-fin-

authors notes: i ran into a girl one time who was bald, completely hairless, but i didn't even pay any mind bc the only thing i could focus on was how happy she was that she was alive and well. she had the biggest smile on her face and i had found that to be the most beautiful thing i had ever seen. my mom and i both nearly cried because it was so beautiful. we also saw an article of a former beauty queen and pageant title holder who had only one leg bc she had something that required her to get the other amputated, yet she was promoting how happy she was to be alive and well. i'm recounting this bc there are days (i am only human after all) there are days where i find something about myself that i actually detest and i even at one point, had convinced myself that i was someday going to get a boob job bc when i was 14, i absolutely had fat content on my body whatsoever, literally a walking skeleton and all the girls at school had such beautiful feminine curves. I remember there was a boy that i kind of had a crush on, but when my friends were teasing and told him "what if reina says she likes you?" boy flat out said "i dont like skinny girls, especially boobless ones." (it was something along the lines of that, i can't remember the exact verbiage) and it shattered my heart lol. i used to tell my mom every day that year, that when i become an adult and i get a job and make my own money, the first thing i was going to do was get breast implants. but oddly enough, when i turned 16, i started to get a little something....not as much as i would like, but i have more than what i had at that age and honestly, i found myself to be happy with it, especially being 19 now. i find myself changing and caring about things i never cared about before, and not caring about things that i used to care about. its so weird how that works. but one thing i will tell you, what matters is that you're healthy, safe, adn happy. i hope you overcome your trials and become stronger, physically, mentally, and emotionally, and i hope that heethan's message will help you with that. because i do believe you are a work of art ;) i personally think we all are....women are just the prettier sex to me, so i find women, no matter how she is built, to be fascinating and beautiful. <3

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