#they only get one shot at life while his are technically endless

[livelaughlovesubs]

Food for thought for sub Boothill: wireplay!

Mechanic reader who helps with repairs all up inside him and maybe an update has him tingle each time they touch his wires, or graze his ports, or the potential opportunities 🤤

I only did minor researches about cyborgs to have a basic understanding, so most of the things I write down will be purely fiction. Also sorry that it turned out as angst instead of NSFW :(

Feel free to ask for a second part to make up for it

Warning: (a little) angst, we are screwing around

Boothill had hinted at the fact that he can’t feel with his mechanical body parts for a while now. For him, who has been like this for so long, one would think he had gotten used to it. Yet that wasn’t the case. Were you to ask him if it bothered him, he’d answer no without an ounce of hesitation. This used to be the truth, until he fell for you. In other words, if you were to ask him the same question now, the response would be much more heartbreaking.

To get a simple comparison, it was as if your body didn’t belong to you. Despite him technically being able to do anything, it felt as if he couldn’t at the same time. Serving as an echo and reminder of his hopelessness prior to gaining this body. It was only a small price to pay considering the sin he committed by being the sole survivor, his path of revenge was fuelled with nothing but pure rage. A second life, filled with endless possibilities, at the loss of his own humanity, not the worst of his sacrifices.

The most regrettable change he had to undergo was the loss of sensation. Everyday, a numbness that wouldn’t vanish engulfed him from the bottom to his shoulders, pretty much mirroring his inner emotions. How losing the sense of touch could throw one into a deep abyss of endless emptiness was unimaginable. To think this would have such a huge consequence on his psyche was unpredictable, he believed it wouldn’t come this far, since he still could feel from his shoulders up to his head. He was horribly wrong.

Whenever you embraced him, some kind of guilt mixed with adoration would eat away at him. Boothill craved your touch, more than that he wanted to feel your warmth when he hugs you, not just the cold iron. At the same time he wished you’d find someone else. Staying by his side would only bring problems, considering the high bounty on his head. You deserved it, you deserved so much better than this icy, robotic body of his. Sometimes his true thoughts would slip out and he’d accidentally tell you how it’s a pity he can’t feel anything. Soon after he’d chuckle and tell you not to worry about it, as well as how he’s grateful for his current life, since he’ll be able to carry out revenge this way.

You have long figured out his concerns, and no matter how you showered his body with love and affection, he only seemed to condemn himself more. This wasn’t something you could just accept like that, seeing your lover being so down caused you nothing but grief. Especially with the thought in mind that you couldn’t help him- no. That’s not true. You could if you wanted to, it’s never too late to learn new things. Besides you had a basic understanding of mechanics and things related to it, since it is a part of your work. Even if you had never done something this high-tech, it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Giving it a shot wouldn’t hurt no one, right?

After coming to such resolves, it got shaken again by your endless worries. You had no idea where to start, nor how a cyborg works. Besides the IPC is way more knowledgeable about this than you, so what’s the chance of success? How were you going to achieve that goal anyway? Uncountable amounts of questions flooded your mind, chasing away any traces of confidence you previously had. That’s when you reminded yourself as to why you wanted to do all of this in the first place. It’s all because of him, he wanted to feel, and who were you to refuse his request? Thus began your secret operation, to program a small device that works as a sensory aid. This took you so long that boothill also noticed you hiding something from him, yet he never asked, respecting your wish to keep it a secret.

One day, after you were sure that it was done and hundred precent safe, you mustered enough courage to present the idea to him. Your heart was in your hand while you explained it to him, on what exactly you would have to do as well as what this little piece of metal can do. With trembling hands, you held the small chip. It was only as big as a pingpong ball, yet it took you months to refine it to perfection. Suddenly breathing was like the most difficult task in the world, as well as speaking. Your breath was short and ragged as you stumbled over your words, trying your best to explain the situation. It was hard to believe you were suggesting the idea of doing modifications on your dear boyfriend.

Boothill was initially grinning, wondering what kind of present you got him. When he saw your nervous stutters and the gift in your hand, his expression loosened up a little, thus he was smiling meekly now. Without beating around the bush, he clasped his hand over yours, then said, “m’ mighty fine, ya’ do what ya’ want, no need to force it, aight?” His hand was cold like always, in contrary to you he didn’t quiver, simply because he couldn’t. Even so you knew this was very shocking to him, you noticed by the indescribable look on his face. There was his usual cheerful air, brave smirk and reassuring yet chaotic vibe. Though a hint of bitterness was hidden behind these layers.

Why? That’s what he wondered about. You spend all your free time on this, just for him, because he accidentally pitied it once or twice? Even though he appreciated the thoughts and efforts, he still felt bad. Yet there was something else too, scepticism. If this were to work, would things get better? Doubt, suspicion and most prominently fear engulfed him. What if it just doesn’t work? You must be so disappointed if that were the case. Or something might go wrong and he never gets the chance to hold you again, that would be way worse than his current fate. Frankly enough, he is already grateful to have a place to call home again, which is why he doesn’t want to be too greedy.

You nodded, then said, “I want to try, okay?” He saw your determination, so he had to reason to refuse you, giving you a smile as he replied, “don’t mess me up too much, darling.” After getting his consent, you made him lie down on the working bench. If he didn’t knew any better, it almost felt like you were a doctor. You started with removing his cover, using a cordless screwdriver to get rid of the metal plates on his torso. This way you can access his central parts and inner systems. Operating on a human being was stressing, especially because it was someone dear to you too. It took you a while until you properly understood his body and how everything worked, many wires were placed everywhere, so many that it confused you. There were also artificial bones to help stabilise and protect the wires as well as countless devices, similar to the task of real bones. Some kind of blue liquid was being pumped to his heart, keeping it alive. You found many chips for various purposes, yours in contrary looked like a joke. This was overwhelming at first, but after studying him for a bit, you came to understand most of it.

Behind his pelvis was his oil tank, with the energy conversion device being right next to it. It was connected to every single part of his body, since it was the machine delivering energy through every wire. There were also many other human-like parts; an artificial lung, an oxygen cylinder to store the air needed to keep the brain alive, an artificial stomach which was more like a storage for bullets. The department that you needed the most was behind his chest, where his motor for motion skills are. It was located alongside a few other big systems. If you could somehow connect the control system with your little chip there, then he might be able to turn on or off the sensor at free will. No doubt it was a bold gamble, but you were willing to try.

After hours of endless finger-work, to the point sweat was dripping down your chin, you finally managed to attach the device to the right place. A total of 52 tiny wires were needed to properly connect everything, the last thing you had to do was to reattach his covers. Before moving on to that part, you tapped your self made chip gently, wondering if he would be able to feel anything already. During the entire time you were working and basically experimenting on him, Boothill stayed quiet, not wanting to disrupt you. Though this time, he let out an irritated gasp, “huh.” It was strange, something wasn’t quite right. That means you did manage to make modifications to his body, the question is if it’s a good thing. “Boothill, are you alright?” You asked him immediately, worried that you made things worse. “Shucks cutie, m’fine, I’m not that frail.” Once again he retorted to his usual fun demeanour.

It wasn’t a lie, he was fine, but that doesn’t mean nothing happened. Though he didn’t know how to describe it neither. Somehow it felt like electricity was send to his brain, stimulating his nerves. The sensation he just experienced… it was weird yet familiar. Could it be whatever you did worked? Was that bizarre sensation the sense of touch? It’s been so long, he doesn’t know nor remember anymore. “I’m done, can you see if you can turn it on?” You said hesitantly, almost sounding as unsure as him. Boothill looked through his system, and there has indeed been a new feature unlocked. He downloaded it swiftly, a little on edge as he waited. 98%…99%… and done. “How do you feel?” The anticipation in your voice was as clear as day. This was the most intense part of your operation after all, it was if it bore fruition.

“I really don’t feel a difference.” He told you honestly, his brows furrowed. It seems he also kind of hoped for it to work, guess his expectations were too high. Your heart sank, all this work for nothing. In an instant, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your chest. With a disappointed and guilty tone, you spoke, “I’m sorry, I made you go through all that for nothing.” Then you held his iron hand tightly, as if to apologise to him. As soon as your skin made contact with him, his hand twitched and he pulled it back. A dumbfounded look was on your face along with the grief. When you stared at him, totally confused, you noticed his face heat up. “Boothill…?”

“Your hand’s warm.” He stated, lips slightly parted which revealed his sharp teeth. “What?” You didn’t quite catch the meaning behind his words, hence the question. Boothill sit up very abruptly and pointed a finger to his body, “touch m’ here.” Despite you not understanding the situation, you obliged anyway, tapping his torso with your index finger. “It worked!” The cyborg stated, blinking a few times in awe. “My forking goodness, this shirt works.” “You mean…?” Your own eyes widened, staring at him in disbelief. It worked? Your little amateur operation there? “It worked.” You had to repeat those words that seemed so unfamiliar in your mouth.

The realisation hit you, your hard work payed off and it wasn’t unnecessary. In an instand you pulled that man into a hug, wrapping your arms around his torso, holding him tightly. “Hey now, don’t squeeze me so suddenly mother-fudger, hahaha.” Boothill laughed, returning your embrace immediately. This feeling was what he subconsciously missed. For the first time in years, he could feel the warmth of another. He can feel it when something is touching him, when you are caressing him so gently.

Even though first and foremost he looks unbothered, only happy about this new function, he was deeply shaken by it. His bottom lip trembled due to the overwhelming emotions swirling around inside him. If he could cry, he would. Partly because he’s so grateful for your deeds, also because feeling so many stimulations when he literally couldn’t for years is a bit overwhelming. It wasn’t bad though, your hug felt so nice. To think the first thing he gets to feel after being senseless all these years is not anything fighting related, but the soft feeling of your tender embrace. How lucky he was. If he dared to be a little more selfish, then he’d wish this moment could last forever.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

I was thinking about the Little Lucky AU and found myself wondering how Ace’s reaction would have changed if he’d seen Lucky before she had a chance to heal, so here's that

Smile For Me

4.1k words

Not an experience in the world could top the feeling of the salty sea breeze whipping past him as he cut through the ocean in Striker. Ace was positive he would never grow weary of the sensation. The intoxicating views and endless freedom of it was enviable to say the least.

An unimposing wave headed straight for him, Ace only grinned and increased the speed. His prized boat ramped over the wave, temporarily becoming airborne before crashing back into the sea. Water shot up and coated him in a fine mist, enough to feel refreshing but not so much as to weaken the devil fruit user.

The figure of a ship on the horizon caught his eye. It was too far away for him to be able to identify whose it could be, but he changed course anyway. Might as well approach and ask if they know anything about that backstabbing bastard Teach.

Plus, if they turn out to be marines, he’ll get a much needed opportunity to blow off some steam.

As soon as the jolly roger was identifiable, a grin broke out across his face. It hadn’t been long since he’d last seen Luffy and his crew, but who was he to pass up such an opportunity? Besides, for all he knows they’ve heard or seen something related to Blackbeard. Though, admittedly, he’d prefer if that traitorous piece of shit never so much as made eye contact with any of them.

Especially not his niece. 

For most of his life, Ace would have never considered himself to be a family oriented man. Between the loathing for his father and complicated feelings regarding his late mother, the word ‘family’ left a bitter taste in his mouth. Sure, he eventually opened himself up enough to let his brothers in, but that felt different.

It wasn’t until his introduction to the Whitebeard pirates that he started to come around. At first, all he felt was a gnawing envy for the close knit family bond displayed by them, but as time went on and he grew closer the feeling subsided. Then he was properly assimilated into the crew- no, the family- and accepted Whitebeard’s offer to become one of his many sons. He’d never realized how badly he needed the unconditional love and support of a family until he was thrust into it. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Then there was you, his darling little niece.

Granted, calling you his niece wasn’t necessarily accurate. Luffy was distinctly not your father (Sanji would absolutely never let that mix up take place), but the term just felt right. Who cares if it wasn’t technically correct? Luffy isn’t technically his brother, and Whitebeard isn’t technically his father. Technicalities didn’t matter with them, so why should they apply with you?

Ace would be lying through his teeth if he said you weren’t the person he was most excited about seeing again. Despite not having known you for long, you’d wormed your way into his heart more than anyone ever could hope to. He’d even temporarily put his mission on hold to stay with you while in Alabasta. As much as he knew he needed to be hot on Blackbeard’s trail, he couldn’t bring himself to just leave you while in such a high risk situation. Luffy had barely set foot in the Grand Line and he’d already managed to pick a fight with a warlord. 

While that wasn’t necessarily surprising knowing his brother, what was shocking was that he was doing all this with a four year old in tow. Ace didn’t doubt Luffy’s strength by any means, but he was more unsure of his ability to multitask fighting a warlord and his army of assassins while also keeping you safe. 

That’s why he volunteered to hang back and keep an eye on you while Luffy proved himself, something he was relieved he did after seeing how banged up everyone got during the final battle. He can’t imagine you would have gotten out of that unscathed, and you were far too young to be getting caught in the crosshairs of fights of that magnitude. Just the idea of you scraping your knee made him feel sick.

He doesn’t know what he’d do if you ever got seriously injured. Or worse. He doesn’t want to even think about it.

As he closed in on the Going Merry, a familiar figure in a straw hat hopped onto the figurehead and waved his arms wildly.

Ace waved back while raking his eyes over the rest of the ship. He hoped to see your familiar head of hair peeking over the railings, but had no such luck. That’s fine, he supposes. You could be napping or simply hadn’t realized he was here yet.

The Striker slowed to a stop next to the much larger ship, and Ace barely managed to tie the rope attaching the two before he was yanked up into the rubbery arms of his brother. They both tumbled backwards on the deck with Luffy laughing boisterously.

“Ace! What are you doing here? Did you catch that guy you were looking for?” Luffy rolled off of Ace and pulled him up onto his feet.

Ace readjusted his hat, “Not yet. I was just passing by and thought I’d check in on you.” He snatched the hat off Luffy’s head with one hand and ruffled his hair with the other.

Luffy whined and swatted Ace’s hand away while trying to get his hat back. It’s then that he notices the massive burn on one of Luffy’s arms. It starts at his elbow and goes all the way down to his finger tips.

Grabbing him by the bicep, Ace pulls the arm closer to look at it, “The hell happened there?”

“Oh, that? I fought this guy with weird earlobes and he melted some gold onto my arm. I punched him with it though, you should have seen it!” Luffy grinned and puffed out his chest with pride.

“Only you would somehow neglect to mention that that psycho had lightning powers from a devil fruit,” Nami called out. She was leaning against the mast with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Small burns were littered across her arms.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” Luffy chuckled. It makes sense that he wouldn’t care as much about that part. Since Luffy is made of rubber from his own fruit, those powers would be essentially irrelevant to him. 

Ace dropped the straw hat back onto his brother’s head and playfully shoved him back, “I’ll ask more about that later. Where’s my niece at?”

Nami tensed, then shifted her weight from foot to foot, “She’s napping right now, I doubt she’ll wake up before you have to leave.” The words were spoken sharply.

“I’m sure she won’t mind being woken up when she sees her favorite uncle here. Plus, I’ve got a little present for her,” Ace replied. The last island he stopped at was known for a chewy candy made from a fruit that exclusively grew there. It was all the rage with the kids, so naturally he grabbed a couple boxes of it for you.

He made for where your room was, but Nami leapt in the way and pushed him back. “She needs her sleep, you can just leave the gift with me!” The navigator snapped at him. 

Ace’s eye twitched in annoyance. He was well aware that she wasn’t his biggest fan, but this was ridiculous. “It’s not that big of a deal. I’ll get her back to sleep myself if it matters that much to you,” he ground out. 

She opened her mouth to respond, only for Luffy to interrupt her, “Is she still napping? I thought Lucky was in the kitchen with Sanji.” 

Nami hissed at Luffy to shut up, but Ace didn’t care enough to stick around for whatever disagreement was about to break out between the two. He shoved past the redhead and bolted for the kitchen. His eyes rolled, of course she tried lying to him. He tries to smuggle his niece off the ship one time and she has to go and make a whole song and dance out of it. It was just a joke!

The door to the kitchen was thrown open with what was probably more force than necessary. The doorknob loudly collided with the wall, something that Thatch would scold him for doing if he was here.

The crack of the collision wasn’t the only thing he heard. It was immediately drowned out by a shrill scream. Yours.

He hadn’t even gotten a good look at you yet, all he’d seen was a blur as you leapt from the counter you were sitting on and clung onto Sanji like your life depended on it. Ace’s heart was in his throat from the sight. The last thing he ever wanted to do was scare you. He didn’t remember you being this jumpy last time he’d seen you.

The guilt was piled on more when a small sob could be heard, too.

Sanji cradled you to his chest, whispering soft words of assurance before whipping around with the coldest look on his face. Surprise momentarily flashed across his face before being replaced with an even angrier expression. A hand came up to push your head further into his chest.

“Don’t slam the damn door! What is wrong with you?!” He whisper yelled.

Ace held up his hands in defense, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I would scare her.” He took cautious, quiet steps towards you and Sanji, “Hey, Lucky. I’m sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Your hands were clamped over your ears, but his voice appeared to have still gotten through. Gingerly, you lowered your hands and whispered a tearful, “Uncle Ace?”

Ace, however, was too shocked to hear it. Actually, shocked wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how he was feeling. Horrified was more fitting. Your arms were covered in scabbed over burns. That was bad enough, but what really got to him was the bruising around your neck.

Someone had strangled his niece.

What happened to you? Who did this? And where are they right now? Ace needed to know so he could personally finish them off.

You’d finally turned to face him, and the tears and busted lip did nothing to calm him. The fire that made up his very being crackled dangerously beneath his skin, and it took every bit of self control he had to keep himself from torching the kitchen.

It wasn’t until you held out your burnt arms to him that he snapped out of the rage he was in and rushed forward to snatch you out of Sanji’s arms and into his own. Despite the cook’s protest, you eagerly clambered onto Ace. Your much smaller limbs locked onto him and you buried your face into his neck while sniffling pitifully. 

Ace bounced you gently, but refrained from speaking. His anger still had a hold on him, and he wasn’t sure he trusted himself to not let it show quite yet.

Nami entered the kitchen, appearing visibly uncomfortable and tense.

The control Ace had regarding holding his tongue went out the damn window. He all but snarled at her, “Is this why you didn’t want me to see her?”

“Don’t pick a fight with her, Ace,” Sanji put himself in between them. 

Ace scoffed at the warning, but he had no intention of starting a fight. You’d already been subjected to more fighting than you ever should have been. What you needed right now was some fresh air, and honestly he needed to step away from this situation for a bit before he exploded. Going for a ride on Striker should do the trick.

He shouldered past them, tightly clutching you to him. Nami and Sanji were hot on his heels as he headed straight for where his boat was tied off.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Nami demanded. Her hand shot out and latched onto Ace’s backpack, successfully bringing him to a halt. This was not well received by Ace, who then whipped around to shove her away.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Luffy came bounding over, looking thoroughly confused about the altercation. “What happened?”

“I should be asking all of you that!” Ace raised his voice, though immediately regretted it when he felt you flinch. He spoke in a lower tone next, “I’m taking her for a ride on Striker, she looks like she could stand to have some fun for once. You’re all going to tell me what happened when we come back.”

“Absolutely not! Are you insane, why would we let you run off with her?!” Nami made a move to come closer and grab you, but Luffy blocked her. If looks could kill, Luffy would be dead several times over.

Luffy ignored Nami’s venomous gaze and stepped close enough to rest a hand on your back, “Do you wanna go with Ace?” His tone was more soothing and gentle than Ace had previously thought it was capable of being.

You turned your head just enough to be able to look at him over your shoulder. For a moment you mulled over what to say. Your voice was hushed, like you were afraid to make too much noise. Or maybe because your throat ached too much to speak up. Both possibilities made Ace’s blood boil.

“Y-Yeah… It sounds fun, I guess.”

Luffy grinned warmly, patting your back before stepping away, “Alright! Have fun, Lucky!”

Nami and Sanji both started to protest, but Ace didn’t care enough to stick around and hear it. After muttering a quick ‘thanks’ to Luffy for being the most reasonable person here (something he never thought would ever be the case), Ace finished the rest of the short walk to where Striker was. He dropped down onto it and made quick work of untying the boat.

Just like that, you two were off. As much as he wanted to take off at max speed, he kept the pace leisurely. There was no rush, and he did not want to startle you again. 

Your face was back to being firmly planted in his neck, and you haven’t said anything since answering Luffy. You haven’t smiled at all since he’s seen you.

Ace didn’t know what to do. Comforting people has never been his strong suit. Luffy had learned to roll with the punches of his toughlove growing up, but you weren’t Luffy. And Ace wasn’t the same kid with a shitty attitude that he used to be, either. For now, he’ll wait for you to come around on your own. He’s sure you will, you did agree to come with him after all. 

Eventually, he felt your head move, followed by the sensation of you propping your chin up on his shoulder. At least you were finally taking in the sights. Feeling like he was making progress, Ace takes his chance and tries to start a conversation with you.

“It’s a nice view, right?”

“Mmhm.”

A silence fell over you two again. That was… something? At least he got a response, however brief. It was odd for you to be this quiet. Back when you all were in Alabasta you were a little chatterbox. 

The question of what exactly happened loomed over him. Who could do this to a child? What kind of a monster does someone need to be to do this? The idea that anyone could so much as think of hurting his niece made him feel sick. Learning who was responsible would have to wait until later, though. He wasn’t about to risk making you more upset by asking you about it.

This whole situation was extremely frustrating. You deserved nothing but good things in his humble opinion, not this horrible abuse and suffering.

A realization hit him. The candy! He’d completely forgotten about it after seeing you. Maybe that’ll be enough to put a smile on your face.

You’d traveled far enough that the Going Merry was barely visible, so he should be able to take a break and sit down with you for a moment. He might even be able to get you talking. Though honestly, just seeing you look happy would be more than enough for him.

The Striker slowed to a stop until it was doing nothing more than drifting with the current of the ocean. He felt you perk up and look around.

“Why did we stop? Is your boat broken?” The stress in your voice was palpable.

“No, no, no! Everything’s fine! I just remembered that I had a present for you, that’s all!” Ace hastily reassured you, feeling bad that he’d made you worry for even a second. He shifted you to one side and sat down. He attempted to put you down across from him, but the instant panic in your eyes and you clinging to his arms put a stop to that.

So now you were perched on his lap while he rummaged through his rucksack. While you did appear to be mildly interested in what he was doing, your eyes were lacking any real excitement. You were more invested in clinging to him and taking in your surroundings.

Ace was beginning to think he’d lost the candy when his fingers grazed the ribbon bound box hiding at the bottom of his bag. “Here it is!” The package was pulled out and the bag discarded to the side while he held it out to you.

There was a bit of hesitation on your part, but then you slowly took it from him with a small ‘thank you’. You carefully examined the box while lightly picking at the ribbon, “What is it?”

“You’ll know if you open it,” he jostled you a little while trying to encourage you.

Slowly, you tugged at the ribbon, watching with a blank expression as it came undone. Ace took it from you once it was off so you could keep your hands free. The lid was pried off next, revealing the candies inside. Sunlight reflected off the sugar coating the light pink treats, making them appear even more enticing.

Ace watched with trepidation as you eyed them, and almost sighed in relief when you picked up a piece. You scrutinized the candy, sniffed it, then finally popped it into your mouth.

Your face remained neutral briefly as you first bit into it. Then, finally, your eyes widened, and the faintest hint of a smile began to tug at the corner of your lips. You chewed more vigorously and dug two more pieces out of the box.

“That good, huh? I’m glad you like them, Lucky,” Ace moved your hair out of your face as the ocean’s breeze blew the strands about. 

An idea occurred to him at that moment. Moving the ribbon he’d been holding to his mouth, he gathered up your hair and pulled it back. After a messy attempt to finger comb it, he took the ribbon and wrapped it around your hair. He tried his best to tie it into a nice looking bow but… it was bad. One loop was noticeably bigger than the other and the way the knot was tied made it look extremely lopsided. 

Good thing you couldn’t see it.

Suddenly, you turned around in his lap and held up a piece of candy to him. Ace smiled at the gesture, “I got those for you, kid. You enjoy them.”

“I wanna share it,” your tone and serious expression left little room for argument, especially when you started persistently pushing the sugary treat against his mouth. Taking it into his mouth, the first thing he registered about it was how sweet it was. His face scrunched up involuntarily, this was much sweeter than he liked his food to be. Ace could only hope you would be content with this and wouldn’t insist on sharing any more with him.

A soft giggle cut through the air, surprising him so much that he almost choked on the candy. He looked down at you, and sure enough, you were actually smiling.

“Your face was funny,” you mumbled, averting your eyes back to the half empty box in your hands.

“Was it?” Ace laughed. He swore he could feel a weight being lifted from his shoulders thanks to seeing you in better spirits. He swallowed the candy, glad to be rid of it. Hazarding another glance at you, he noticed you were starting to absentmindedly pick at one of your scabs. His hand shot out and pulled the offending hand away, “Don’t do that, it’s not gonna heal if you pick at it.”

You flinched and whined from the contact, making him let go in a panic. In his rush to grab your wrist, he’d unknowingly squeezed one of your many burns. Well then. Now he felt like a piece of shit.

“I’m sorry, I should have been paying more attention to where I was grabbing,” Ace very gently brought you in for a hug, hoping that he didn’t accidentally touch any other injuries.

“It’s okay,” you sniffled. 

“All these must hurt a lot, huh?”

You nodded, “Yeah… It always hurts.”

Ace frowned. It wasn’t right that you had to be in agony around the clock because his brother’s crew dropped the ball when it came to protecting you. He might not know what happened yet, but he knows they’re all feeling guilty for it based on how shifty and defensive Nami got.

Wait.

Now that he’s thinking about it, there is a way to make all your pain go away.

“You know… One of my brothers could heal you right up.”

You cocked your head to the side, eyebrows knitted together, “Is he a doctor? Chopper is already doing that.”

“He is a doctor, but he’s a doctor with a devil fruit that can heal any injury. On himself and on others,” he leaned in closer to explain this, as if he was sharing a secret. “Not only that, but he can do it in seconds.”

“Really? That’s so cool!” Your eyes were wide and rapt with interest.

“Really! We can go see him right now, how does that sound?”

Uncertainty pulled at your face, and you shifted in his lap, “Now? But what about everyone else? They’ll be all worried if we don’t come back.”

“It’ll be fine! Besides, once they see you healed up they’ll be happy about it!” Ace knew they were going to be pissed about him leaving with you, but he didn’t want you thinking about that. He needs you to focus on how nice it’ll be when you aren’t constantly hurting, “Don’t you want to feel better sooner?”

“I do… Are you sure they won’t be mad?” 

“Of course! Seeing you happy and healthy will make your being gone for a little bit all worth it, I promise!” Okay, realistically some of them will still be mad, but only at him. He knows that Luffy will appreciate it at the very least, and his opinion is the only one that matters to Ace.

“Plus, if we go to Whitebeard’s ship now, you’ll be able to meet Kotatsu. You still want to see him, right?” If the medical treatment couldn’t get you over the barrel, he’s sure the promise of a cat will.

“The kitty?! Yeah, I wanna see him! Let’s go!”

Bingo. Convincing you was easier than he thought it was going to be. 

Ace tossed your box of candy back into his bag and scooped your excited self into his arms. You were downright giddy and it was relieving to say the least. It would be even better when those nasty burns and bruises were nothing more than an awful memory.

Now that you were in a better mood, he fully utilized how fast his boat could go. Small but delighted giggles came from you as the Striker effortlessly cut through the water.

Everyone was going to be more than a little surprised to see Ace come home with a kid given that he hasn’t gotten the chance to tell them about you yet, but he knows they’ll love you just as much as he does. If they could welcome him into their crew despite how hostile he was when they first met, you’ll be adored by them in a matter of seconds.

Ace won’t even need to ask Marco to treat you, he’ll be all over you the second he lays eyes on your battered form. And Pops isn’t exactly the type to turn away a little kid, especially one that’s family.

Honestly, they might not even want to let you go after they get a chance to know you.

[oh-shit-i-spilled-my-genderfluid]

Random Vincent Sinclair headcannons

- doesn’t wear his mask in the basement, and usually not in his everyday life. It’s not super comfortable and he can’t see/breathe well with it and his brothers don’t give a shit what he looks like, so why wear it out for no reason? Also the basement gets super warm with the fire and melted wax so his mask would start to deform and straight up melt. Maybe he has a mini fridge down there to keep his masks cool and close if he needs them idk

- if he was born later he would’ve been a massive Percy Jackson fan, he seems to have an interest in mythology/mythological monsters so yeah. Percy Jackson. He’d be in cabin 7 or 9.

- probably sleeps in the basement a lot, it’s the only place he feels completely safe and comfortable. He even sleeps there in the summer, when the combined Louisiana heat and the fire/wax makes the basement feel like a damn sauna. Bo has to go check on him every once in a while to make sure he hasn’t died from heat stroke or something.

- speaking of Bo, I don’t see him as being abusive towards Vincent (I can definitely see why some people interpreted their interactions like that but to me if I had just been shot in the chest and arm with a crossbow and I had to go hunt down some random kids before they called the cops I would also not be in the mood for kind words lol). Bo can definitely be a bitch sometimes, but they do genuinely care for each other. Their relationship is part normal sibling closeness and part trauma bond, but they manage.

- doesn’t care much for his hair, just brushes it sometimes. The Sinclairs definitely have one of those 14in1 shampoo-bodywash-spackle type things, and that’s fine by him. He does brush it a lot tho, that’s something he cares about.

- can cook, but not well. The food he cooks is edible but not much else. Bo does more cooking (he’s slightly better, but only slightly). Vincent puts way too little or no salt at all in his food. I don’t know why. He just likes his food bland and tasteless.

- is somewhat interested in medical stuff. Like it was the only thing him and his father could bond over and he was taught some basics, and has continued to learn to make his art better. If Bo or Lester gets injured he’s the one to take care of it (although Bo would rather bleed out or die from an infection than get any help, Lester has to wrestle him down so that Vincent can patch up his wounds)

- idk I just always thought Jonesy was Vincent’s dog, but sort of also the family dog? Like she can run around and hang out with anyone but she’s technically Vincent’s dog?

- grew up listening to classical music and got kinda Pavlov’d into being more creative when listening to it so now that’s basically all he listens to while working. He will politely listen to Bo’s Marilyn Manson and Nine Inch Nails without complaining, but it’s not his type of music.

- does a lot of different art stuff. Wax sculpting is like his main thing and his job (sorta), but the list of creative endeavors he does in his free time is endless. Has a particular affinity for charcoal drawings. Someone should introduce him to digital art, he would be ecstatic.

[i-belong-in-a-retirement-home]

Ok so originally this was supposed to be a little buggy x reader imagine but like, Good Luck Babe coded. Then it turned into a 1400 word monstrosity I typed on my phone at 2 am while listening to Sub Urban and Breaking Benjamin.

Enjoy, please, so I can justify the pain in my thumbs and the severe lack of sleep.

There's some mentions of drinking, but that's really it? Oh and angst, fairly angst.

Like, Reader spent her early twenties with Buggy, gave her everything to him

Like, attached at the hip, not technically together, but like. So in love.

Would refuse to admit she loved him, but spent every waking (and sleeping) moment together

So in love with the wild life he lived. They lived. Together.

Holding the glasses while he poured shots. Pouring the gasoline while he threw the match. Staying up to see the sunrise. Getting so drunk that they had to hold each other to stay standing. Running wildly through ports. Ducking gunshots. Near death experiences only survived because they worked together.

But the long nights start getting to her. She realizes she can't maintain the wildness for her whole life. And he shows no signs of stopping.

Gets herself a steady job. Gives her hand to a merchant. Gets a nice cushy home. Everything at her beck and call.

But every night, she stands out on the balcony. Feeling the wind race through her hair. Cold nipping at her skin. A fresh seabreeze begging her to return. It feels wild and free, like him.

Sometimes he lands in her town. Surfacing just for a moment. And when she hears, her heart races, desperate for one more hit.

She remained unflinching for many years. Certain that if she never acknowledged the tribulations within her, that she would move on. She wouldn't need him. After some time.

But the longing breaks her. She can't admit it, but she was wrong. Can't admit that life was better when she was on the run. When she didn't know if she would wake in the morning.

When his arms were the only things between her and certain death. When he would hold her close as they fled crime scene upon crime scene. Bounties higher and higher.

It was more exhilarating. It kept her blood pumping. Her heart pounding. Her lungs inhaling. Just staying alive to see that wild grin on his face, when he would grace her with his focus.

Her heart aches. So sometimes, when she longs so deeply that she can barely breathe, she'll pull a cloak on. Slipping past her merchant in the dead of night. Past the gates of her house on the hill. And she'll descend upon the town.

Find the bar with the loudest shouting, and pull up a chair. There he is, standing on a table, regaling the crowd with his most recent escapades. Some cheer, while most remain wide-eyed, terrified of his crimes. How could this clown be so terrible.

But she remembers. He does it because he wants, no, needs, to be remembered. Begging for an audience to the unyielding tsunami of history.

You have to be just as catastrophic, if you want history to shine a light. That's what he would say. In the darkness of the shared room. Even basking in her love, a endless limelight, he still couldn't get enough. He needed to prove he deserved to be remembered by everyone. Not just her.

Funnily enough, he would always be remembered. Should she ever bare a child, they would know of him. They would hear endless tales of the flashy fool, the genius jester. His history would stain every generation of her family. She would make sure of that.

But one family singing his praises wouldn't be enough. He needed more and she knew that rotten truth through and through.

She never needed for anything with him. Mind it, ill-begotten goods were what she received. But the morals weren't the issue. He just couldn't understand that he was enough. Just the way he was. He constantly gave her more, bathed her in riches. Every member of his crew wanted not. But their praises weren't enough. They weren't nearly enough for him.

He had made it clear that one day, he would move on. That he would be the pirate king, everyone would bow to him and him alone. He would have the perfect ship, the perfect crew, and the perfect woman beside him.

But his gifts, praises, and good-times had blinded her. He had always been clear about his dreams. It had just taken her too long to wise up to what they meant.

Those memories made her weep. Feelings so cleanly muzzled and chained within her breaking loose and wreaking havoc. So she would pull her hood further down, to hide the misting in her eyes and once again leave him.

For all it's impossibility, she needs him desperately. Her heart beats out of its cage. Knowing the perfect comfort was only yards away. Beating it's way out of her chest, tearing away. Begging for a reprieve from its endless torment. Even if it meant laying down her life.

Maybe a single word, a single drink, a single conversation, a single night would be enough. She could finally move on. But no. It wouldn't be enough and she knew it.

He could completely enrapture her. That glow, the warmth of basking in his presence was euphoric. And she would never walk away again.

But he would never give her all of him. He would pursue his glory, his kingship. And she would one day be left with nothing but the sunlight he bathed her in. And she would be sucked dry, left with nothing. Gave him all of her, but receiving so little in return.

So she stays there. Just a block away, tears drying on her cheeks, laying in the street. People bumble past, heading home from the bars. Assuming that she simply did not make it that far. Too drunk to function.

If only they knew. If only she knew. If she could regain control. The feelings in her chest, in her gut, poured down her face. They must be denied completely and totally. Or else the regret would ruin her. Thrashing about, bruising her ribs and exploding through her sternum. So it was restrained to bitter wimpers.

She would go home, face bright red and glistening from her tears. She would slink into her shared room, where her merchant slept so peacefully. Naive to the ways she betrayed him. It's not like he was much better though. She knew about the little tart he kept on his ship. Hardly mattered though. No need to blow up her life.

For all the ways it might satisfy her need for thrill. She wouldn't do it. Would be too difficult to pick up the pieces.

No guarantee that he would take her back. And besides, she didn't want the world like he did. She just wanted him. He hadn't understood that.

The world would never truly understand her, but he did. He knew who she was. Its easy to know your own flesh. An extension of himself walking away from him. But he couldn't command this one to come back.

For all his talk of taking the world, it always included her by his side. He wouldn't have admitted it then, nor now, but he missed her just as deeply. He was unsatisfied with his fame. The world's a stage, yes. But the limelight is freezing, and the stage is far too big for him alone. But he couldn't admit that, it would mean that she was right to leave. His pursuits were hollow and he gave up everything for them.

She was the closest to heaven he had been.

He knew she lived there in the port city. It was the only reason he risked getting caught so often. Just to catch a glimpse of her. The detached limb he never got back. But he never did, so he'd find a quiet spot, away from prying eyes, and just watch. Stare up at that house on the hill till the sun came up. Somber and sterile as it was, at least he knew she was safe. Couldn't be hurt there.

Maybe she missed him sometimes? Maybe she still thought about him. But surely after all these years she had moved on. She had a good life. A man who loved her. Everything she could ever want. What could he offer that the merchant couldn't.

Nothing.

He was just some no good pirate captain with a mediocre crew. He only stumbled into good luck, cruel mistress she was. Not worth dragging a good woman down with him. No, she deserved the world, and every beauty it held. He couldn't give her that, so he didn't deserve her.

[tinyboxxtink]

Summer of '87 [Chapter 2]

So i think i'm just gonna start over with the tag list. So if you would like to be added, please let me know!!

Also i know some of the dates may be screwed up, but suspenson of disbelief okay? Creative liberty and all that. Also, I decided the "Unknown Freak" is now known as Quentin.

Part 3

Okay i think that's it, enjoy!

oh also, If you enjoyed this chapter, please think about sending me a coffee. My um, current situation is here.

Also if you missed part 1 here it is

-------------

------------

“....But i don’t understand. If you have to get home, you’ll still go through---” Your friend Carissa was trying to figure out your plan.

You had told them you had an emergency at home and had to drive straight there, therefore unable to drop them off.

“Look guys come on, just take the money,” You handed her the wad of cash. 

“OOOOH!!!!! Let’s go buy shots!!” your friend Amy squealed.

“NO,” you said sternly, now hesitant about this plan.

“You guys are gonna go upstairs, sleep it off, then go to the train station in the morning,” 

“Buzzkill,” your friend Stacy whined.

“Alright now go,” You instructed them to get out of your Taxi in front of their hotel. 

Once you were sure they were inside, you asked the driver to drop you off where the band had said to meet them. 

Your friends would be fine, right?

--------------

You arrived at the bus to find only Eddie standing outside, smoking a cigarette. His eyes lit up when he saw you get out of the car with your luggage in tow.

“Hey!” he said excitedly as he jogged towards you. “I was beginning to think you changed your mind,” 

“Nah,” you nodded calmly, secretly freaking out. “Just had to get the girls to bed,”

“Ah. Right,” he nodded himself as he stomped out his cigarette to take your bags.

“No roadies,” he chuckled.

“Oh you don’t have to do that--” 

“Sure I do,” he insisted. “You saved my life earlier.”

“I think that’s a bit of an over exaggeration,”

“So you’re saying your friends wouldn’t have killed me trying to get a piece of this?” he wiggled his body suggestively with a small smirk. 

“You have a point,” you giggled, feeling your cheeks turn red. 

“Hey if you two are done flirting, we need to go!” Gareth’s voice suddenly came out of nowhere. 

You and Eddie turned to see him hanging out the bus window. Eddie shot him a glare and threw him the bird while you turned even more red.

“Well I guess we better go,” He looked at you sheepishly while turning a bit pink himself. 

“Yup,” you nodded awkwardly as you followed him onto the bus. He tossed your bags on the overhead racks as you walked into the bus.

It was amazing. Long leather benches on each side, a seemingly endless hallway. A full bar in between with mirrors on the ceiling. 

“Let’s go back here, away from the peanut gallery,” Eddie suggested, noticing the already suggestive looks from his band mates.

You followed him towards the back where there were two booths on one side and a couch against the wall of the other. You chose the couch to sit on, where Eddie joined you. 

“So,” he immediately began to play with a string on his jeans. 

“So…” you matched his nervous energy looking around the bus awkwardly. You were afraid if you looked right into his eyes at the moment you might melt into the couch.

“So how is it we don’t know each other?” Eddie asked flat out.

“Well, first of all i’m pretty sure I’m a few years older than you,” you giggled slightly.

“What? No way.”  he said rather offensively.

“I’m 24, and you are…?” you looked at him expectantly.

“I’m 22, you’re not that much older--” he said in a pouty tone.

“Second of all, I didn’t really grow up in Hawkins.” you cut him off.

“WHAT?” Eddie began to panic. Was this a setup? Had he been bamboozled by a pair of pretty eyes and a great ass?  And, would that be so bad?

“So why did you go along--?”

“I mean technically i did,” you saw that look in his eyes. “I just uh…i grew up in….Brooke Heights.”

“Oh I see,” he rolled his eyes. 

Brooke Heights was a part of Hawkins, technically speaking. However, it was more of the “right side of the tracks' ', gated community type. They had their own shopping, their own schools, even a “mayor” type that was much more “Elite” than Hawkin’s sleazy mayor. Eddie knew the type of people that lived there. The Harrington’s lived there, and god knows how much of a dick Steve Harrington used to be. 

“So you went to Carmel,” He said more as a statement than a question. 

“Yes,” you nodded while playing with your hands in your lap. You could tell he was getting more and more annoyed by the revelation of your origin. 

“Well color me shocked a princess like you agreed to slum it with a silly metal band,” he ran his fingers through his hair before taking another cigarette from his pocket.

“Hey, that’s not true.” You assured him. “Christ Almighty Eddie you just went on a national tour with girls throwing their panties at you every night. I’d hardly call that a ‘silly metal band’,”

“How do you even know that?” He raised an eyebrow. “Did you toss me some panties last night, Princess?” he smirked.

Jesus, there was the cocky bravado you had expected. And you had to admit, you didn’t hate it. 

“NO,” You said rather emphatically. “My friends did though. It was disgusting,” 

“Ohhh was it now?” he laughed while lighting his cigarette and taking a puff. “Too vulgar for your taste, princess?” 

“Will you knock it off?” you folded your arms. “Just because I came from a better place than you doesn’t mean--”

“See?” he gestured with his cigarette. “You DO think you’re better than me!”

“That’s not what I--” you sputtered angrily. “That’s not what I meant!”

“A lover’s quarrel already?” Gareth came strolling in with a hearty chuckle. 

“Shut up Gar,” Eddie huffed. 

“Y’know that’s a lot of venom for someone who saved you from a herd of succubi,” 

“She’s not from Hawkins, She’s from Brooke Heights,” 

“It’s the same thing!!!” you argued.

“Ooooooh,” Gar said in a cartoonish voice. “So? We can’t help where we’re born or who to, Edds.” 

“Like you can’t control you were born in a trailer park,” A band mate chimed in as he walked into the “Room”.

“Jesus Jeff,” Gareth exhaled roughly. 

“Yeah, whose side are you on?!” Eddie stood up defensively. 

“There aren’t any sides!” Jeff sniped back. “There’s just facts--”

“I’m not going back to the Heights, I'm going to find my half brother, okay?!” 

The three men stopped arguing to look at you in shock and confusion. 

“What does that even mean?”

“My parents don’t know I’m going to Hawkins. I don’t want them to know I’m anywhere near them.” you explained.

“....You’ve never met your half brother?” Eddie said with a rather condescending tone. “That’s nice--”

“I wasn’t allowed to, okay?” you snipped. 

“Aren’t you an ‘adult’?” he smirked. 

“I left when I was 18 smart ass,” you folded your arms. “And I never looked back.” 

“So you’re just randomly deciding to--”

“Look, I don't have to explain myself to ANY of you. But if you must know, THIS is why I'm going back now.”

You pulled a page from the CC program your friend had bought. It had old pictures of the band, explaining how they all met and formed the group. In one black and white photo, with 7 guys. Four of them were CC, the other three looked to be freshmen. The caption read: “HELLFIRE CLUB ‘86.” Then it listed the names of the club members, including your brother’s. 

“...Who exactly is your brother?” Eddie asked shakily as he glanced at the other guys who were equally puzzled.

“Dustin Henderson,” you replied flatly. 

To your shock, Eddie had a much more visceral reaction than you expected. He started pacing and muttering to himself.

“Nah,” he chuckled nervously. “Nah, Henderson would’ve told me if he had a sister--”

“He doesn’t know,” 

“Whatd’ya mean ‘he doesn’t know’?” Eddie stopped suddenly and narrowed his eyes at you. 

“I mean--” you sighed uncomfortably, looking at the floor. “It’s complicated,”

“So uncomplicate it,” 

“Look, why do you even care?” you suddenly gained some cajones. “He’s just some kid you went to school with,”

“He’s my little brother!!!!”

“...What?” your face went pale. Oh god, did that mean you and Eddie were related somehow? Oh god…

“I mean, not literally.” He noticed the horrified look on your face, and he couldn’t hide a smile. It was gone as fast it appeared however as he remembered what your topic of argument was. 

“I mean I took him under my wing. And we--” he looked over at the other members awkwardly. “We went through some shit,”

“Some shit?” 

“They got caught in the earthquake,” the last band member Quentin seem to come out of nowhere.

“Earthquake?” you looked between the three of them.

“Okay look Hawkins isn’t the place you left it,” Eddie explained, hoping no one else would jump in. None of them knew what really went down in Hawkins, and he’d never be able to explain it. It was hard enough for him to believe it, and he lived it. 

“There was a major earthquake due to some crazy lab based there, and that’s all you need to know.” Eddie said sternly.

“Yeah Eddie almost died,” Jeff added while you looked at Eddie. He seemed quite disturbed and got that familiar feeling of his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Which is why we got signed,” Jeff went on. “A record label saw an article about him in the paper and gave us an audition,”

“So really, it helped us out.” Quentin added.

“I’m sorry so you’re basing your success on a major tragedy?” you said in a disgusted tone.

“Lemons into lemonade?”  Quentin shrugged.

“ANYWAY--” Eddie changed the subject, quickly becoming more fearful the more they discussed the “Earthquake”.

“So tell me why Henderson doesn’t know about you, EXACTLY.”

Well, this just got a hell of a lot more intimidating. 

“My--our dad was married to my mom and they had me. When I was around six years old, they started having…problems.” you picked at your sleeves as you explained.

“So one night my dad went to a bar on the ‘other side of the tracks’ so to speak,” 

Cue the groans and eye rolling from the band. 

“And had a one night stand with a woman, resulting in Dustin.” you spoke again. “And one day Dustin’s mom came around for money, threatening to expose him. I only recently found out about this, my mom doesn’t even know!”

“Nah, Henderson said his dad died in a fire…”

“Well you really think his mom was going to tell him he was a result of a one night stand with some rich politician?” 

“There it is,” Eddie shook his head with a bitter laugh. “The daughter of a pig,” 

“You think I don't know that?!” You exclaimed angrily. “Why else do you think I left as soon as I could?” 

“So daddy’s been funding your big city adventures?” 

“Maybe….”

“Oh, maybe. MAYBE because you threatened to expose him this time? Exploit my little brother for your own personal gain?”

“Why else do you think I’m going to tell him?!” You stomped your foot. “I’m going to get out from under my ‘daddy’s money’ and do the right thing! AND he’s not even your--”

“He’s more of my brother than he is yours!!!” Eddie suddenly screamed, his blood boiling.

“Hey man, take a breath.” Gareth put a hand on his shoulder.

“Dustin has been through hell and back, Y/N. He doesn’t need you coming in and blowing up his whole world to appease your weird ass concept of ‘the right thing’.” 

Eddie got in your face, speaking in a low guttural voice. And with that, he stomped back to the bunks, leaving all of you shell shocked.

“I thought you were supposed to help his stress, not amplify it.” Jeff huffed.

“God dammit…” you sighed, getting up to follow him. 

“No,” Gareth suddenly stood in front of you. “I think you’ve done enough.” 

“Look, Dustin means a lot to all of us, not just Munson.” Quentin explained. “You can’t blame us for being protective. Especially him.”

“I’m not doing it to hurt him,” you said sadly. “I just-- I haven’t had a real-- ‘family’. Not like this,” You held up the page again.

“You guys look like brothers, so I do get your defensiveness. I do. I just--- I want a relationship with him, and I think he’s old enough now to handle the truth. That’s all.” 

“Well,” Quentin looked between Jeff and Gareth. “I mean, she does have a point--” 

“Who’s side are you on now?!” Gareth glared at him.

“Dustin’s!” Quentin talkover him. “Eddie’s right, he’s been through a lot. And-- i mean, look where we are. He lost us-- he lost Eddie. A big sister might be what he needs right now, yeah?”

“We’re literally going back right now, Q!” 

“For how long?” Quentin looked at both of them. “You know Carter wants us to cut an album ASAP before our ‘hype’ fades. We’re gonna be back in LA like that!” he snaps at ‘that’.

“And how long before ‘princess’ here goes back to Chicago?” Gareth gestured angrily at you.

“Guys it’s really none of our business--” Jeff spoke up.

“Dude, REALLY?” Gareth hit him.

“Will you all just SHUT UP?!” You raised your voice over all of them, making them stop arguing. 

“Jeff’s right, this is none of your business. NONE. I don’t care if you ‘approve’, Dustin is MY brother. For ACTUAL fact. He’s not just your little buddy. He’s--”

“YOU,” Eddie’s voice came from the back, making you jump back ten feet. “With me, now.” 

“Dude, I hardly think hate sex is gonna help right now--” Gareth teased.

“Don’t make me kick your ass, Gar.” Eddie growled as you reluctantly followed him. 

“...Um, what are we--”

“There’s more you need to know about Dustin if you’re really going to do this.” Eddie didn’t wait for you to finish.

“That’s ominous,” you half laughed, stopping abruptly when you saw how serious his face was. 

“It’s…kind of a long story, that none of the other guys know about.” he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“And you just wanna lay it out there to a stranger?”

“Well you’re gonna know eventually,” he shrugged. “It’s part of who he is now. A part of all of us,” 

“Us?” you raised a curious eyebrow. 

“Just-- let me explain, okay?”

“Okay..." you got comfortable in one of the bunks. 

What could Eddie possibly have to tell you?

[larathia]

Shameless Self Promotion

So, let me tell you about my Endless Story.

Once upon a time, I was hanging around a website writing fanfic for my very first online fandom. And I made friends through the site, in the fandom, and we all had different perspectives on the characters in canon. Sometimes we could juuust about see where we'd each inserted a little wedge, making our take unique, and sometimes it was a bit more murky. At some point in these interactions, my versions got entangled with other people's versions, and while I still had my fanon worldview, I now also had several AUs as well.

Add about 20 years to really think about what makes people into what they are, and what it might take to make them truly heroic...or truly villainous.

That's the story I call 'The Ghost'. I'm not going to deny the fandom roots here, but I think my characters and my world stand on their own. I'm sure, if you've encountered the source I'm drawing from, you'll at some point go "Oh, that's who that is," and maybe that'll make the story more interesting or maybe it won't. I will say that even if you can see what source I'm drawing from, it wouldn't be wise to assume I'm being 'true to canon'; the roots may be fanfic, but the story is not.

Besides. By the time I'm done there'll be at least four more 'canons', plus several worlds nobody but me's ever encountered.

Why give it a shot? Because everyone likes to have something to read, and I post chapters every week. You'd get the first hundred and fifty chapters for free, and after that it's a mere one dollar a month because I'm very very broke and hoping my work's worth a small McDonald's coffee to you by that point. If you've read any of my fanfic series over on AO3, you know about what to expect - I am character driven, I hate the idiot ball, I tend toward tangled politics, I don't write sex scenes much. And sometimes things get Dark, but usually don't end that way.

Here's the main opening characters, just in case that helps you:

Gudrun Thew: A man in his seventies. Born to nobility (hated it), served in the military (really hated it), one of the first known psionics (he's an empath). For Reasons, he wound up leading a revolution in a country he'd never lived in, was elected President-for-life after they won, and retired from public life not long after his only son disappeared, apparently forever, on a mission to save the world from a time-traveling lunatic. Polyamorous (at one time), and loves cats.

Kuthumae Lionis: Gudrun's son. Technically in his forties, looks like he's in his late 20s/early 30s because Time Travel Shenanigans. For Reasons, was essentially raised by a military boarding school (didn't mind it), is an almost legendarily good mercenary (quite proud of it actually), took the job to save the world from the time-travelling lunatic because he was pretty sure his team could do it, and the world in danger was the one he was living on at the time. Unfortunately, because Reasons, he got Stuck afterward and didn't come back to his native time when he was supposed to. The story begins about thirteen years later. Kuth's sexuality is hard to define, but I'd go with "aromantic bi demisexual with extremely specific tastes".

I mean there'll be more, but that's where it starts.

You can begin reading here. The story is 'endless', but there are some reasonably firm plot/character arcs, and if that helps you keep track then there's a kind of masterlist of the public stuff here, otherwise you can follow the public chapters by using the masterposts:

The 2019 Master Linkpost is here. The 2020 Master Linkpost is here. The 2021 Master Linkpost is here. The 2022 Master Linkpost is here.

[soundwave-radioandbroadcast]

Welcome to the Blog and Tags

Hi, hi hello. Welcome to the blog!

On this sideblog, there is gonna lots of different things and because of that, I'm gonna properly tag stuff to the best of ability which means including proper tags for OCs and Aus I have made for transformers (with small description tied to them too so if people want to, they can block those tags and what not!). They will also be under the "continue reading thing" so people do not have to scroll pass a massive wall of text.

Besides that, welcome to the station! Enjoy your stay!

Tags (Will be updated as more is added)

OCs #Scylla A former human who lived in the quote on quote perfect family. When her family's neglect and expectations stressed her out to be point of illness and broke Scylla, she snapped at ran away. She meets Shockwave later in life, and by her request, becomes a techno organic. She has an endless hungry and craves the fresh sparks of her victims and fresh meat.

#Light-Seeker A former Decepticon spy and infiltrator who's alt mode is a stealth fighter jet. Light-Seeker harbors the dark secret of being an actual, fully forged Sparkeater made by the Allspark well itself. Despite being a former Decepticon, Light-Seeker is not fond of the cons he worked for, it is not rare for him to actually bad mouth his former co-workers, mainly Megatron and Starscream. #Patch An autobot minicon who's job is to act like a nurse/assistant to medical bots. Her alt mode, while rarely seen only hinted at with her weaon of choice is a Defibrillation! And despite being an autobot, they do not care for the earth nor the organics on it, actually having a distaste for them as she dubs them "Reckless", reminding them a lot of the hot shot racers back on Cybertron. Because of this, Patch speaks solely in cybertronian, making it hard to communicate with her in any organic languages.

#Seamstress or #Polylene A spider insecticons who is based on the Chilean Rose Tarantula. Seamstress is not a fighter, she is a healer. She is able to create heat at the tips of her finger tips, almost acting like a melting bot, and use that heat to melt metals into a goopy consistency before stretching it out and making it into a fine thread which she uses to repair objects or even other transformers.

#Dinero A former aspiring biologist, Dinero studied under one of the many brilliant minds in Cybertron culture. In all accounts, Dinero is technically a triple charger, with a root form, beast form and vehicle form alongside some extra secrets build into his body. He is also much older than he lets on, leading to some distrust he has for many people.

#Lupin Lupin was an experimental super solider made by Shockwave. Shockwave desired to know what would happen if more or less put a hellhound (yes that's an actual Cybertroian animal) on steroids, making something akin to a dire wolf x hellhound fusion adding in his (Shockwave's) intelligence. Which resulted in Lupin. Despite being a con, Lupin is not loyal to the cause nor Megatron, the only thing preventing Lupin from murking Megs is Shockwave.

AUs #Transformers: Armageddon An AU inspired somewhat by the fanfic Stop Me and is set in the prime universe to a degree. It has some apocalyptic, survival AU and can be summarized as "Everything that can go wrong, WILL go wrong." Is also tech a StarPrime StarOP AU

#Lost Light Time Loop Edition When discover Brainstorm in a new universe still had his time machine, Brainstorm, Rodimus, Drift, and Skids try to go back in time to fix everything so nothing bad will happen, but after the time machine is shot during the process, the four end up in a timeloop. And on accident on the first loop, they ended up dragging Whirl in for the ride too. Which becomes a theme, quickly, as they all try to figure out how the fuck to get out of this loop!

[bigbad-tardis]

While the Doctor/Rose tag on ao3 has a slow but steady stream of content coming out every day, I can’t help but feel that one day it’s going to eventually dry up. However I’ve come up with a solution.

Announcing the Doctorrose Fic Marathon

This fanfiction writing marathon will be set from September First (1st) to the Thirtieth (30th). The goal is to simply write as much fanfiction as you can in that month. Anyone can participate. Even if you haven’t written doctorrose fanfiction before. And you don’t even have to participate every day. There are only four (4) rules.

If you’re going to connect the stories, connect them via series instead of a single book

There is no set length. Write however long or short a fic you want.

Use the tag Doctorrose Fic Marathon on Archive of Our Own

And have fun!!

There is also a set of prompts you can follow if you’d rather have them as well. One for each day. Remember you don’t have to follow them if you don’t want to, and you don’t even have to do them in order. Or even combine them if that inspires you! The whole point of this is just to write.

Prompt 1: Alternate Meetings

It’s simple. Write another way the Doctor and Rose could’ve met. This is one of our less vague prompts. So if you feel like it’ll stifle your creativity? Go ahead and pick something else from the list.

Prompt 2: Holding Hands

If there’s anything the Doctor and Rose know how to do, it’s hold hands. Whether it’s while running, for comfort, or just because. Run wild with your imagination.

Prompt 3: First Kisses

Kisses! The Doctor and Rose have had several, but were they the first? That’s for you to write and for us to find out.

Prompt 4: Mutual Pining

The Doctor and Rose are known for being two idiots in love pining over each other. Give us a moment we haven’t seen before.

Prompt 5: Domestics

Nine famously said “I don’t do domestic.” Well we all know that’s a lie. Whether it be holding a friend’s baby, shopping, or changing sheets. Write a view into the Doctor and Rose’s domestic life

Prompt 6: Cuddling

Soft, sweet, classic. Everyone loves a good cuddle fic.

Prompt 7: Hurt/Comfort

It’s a classic theme for a reason. Go ham! Hurt us with your best shot. Make us fall apart. Then put us back together again.

Prompt 8: One Bed

The classic “only one bed” trope is so well known that it’s reached into popular consciousness. What better way to make the Doctor and Rose confront their feelings than bed sharing?

Prompt 9: Time Loop

It’s surprising that the only time loop story in Doctor Who is Heaven Sent. Time loops are a great way to tell a story for a character with regrets. And the Doctor and Rose have plenty.

Prompt 10: Jailbreak

There is a famous trope in Doctor Who fanfiction that I have noticed. The Doctor and Rose always mention the tens of times they got thrown in a jail cell. Let’s actually see it!

Prompt 11: Chase Sequence

The Third Doctor is known for his long vehicle chase sequences. Whether it be boats, cars, or motorcycles. I find it hard to believe the Doctor’s habits for a good chase sequence went away.

Prompt 12: Truth Serum

Truth Serum is one of those tropes that will never really go away, and has been apart of almost every fandom with even a modicum of fantasy or sci-if in it

Prompt 13: Declaration(s) of Love

The Doctor not telling Rose he loved her for the audience to hear is one of the most painful things in Doctor Who. Write a declaration of love, from the Doctor or Rose, (both works too) and get some closure.

Prompt 14: Meddling TARDIS

It’s so clear, given how much the TARDIS likes Rose (as proven by the books), that the TARDIS wants Rose and the Doctor to be together. And she is alive after all.

Prompt 15: Jealousy

Rose and the Doctor have both been jealous multiple times in the story and it never gets old. And the possibilities for angst are endless

Prompt 16: Multiple Doctors

Remember when Rose was almost in Day of the Doctor, but instead it was the Moment? So Rose technically wasn’t in DotD? Channel that rage and write one of the best things we’ll never get. Unless you count Journey’s End.

Prompt 17: Reunion

Reunion fics are the backbone of the Doctor/Rose tag with good reason. It’s one of the few things that can appease our aching souls.

Prompt 18: Playing with Hair

The Doctor and Rose both have really great hair. Yes, even Nine, and given how domestic they are, it’s a shame we never got to see them playing with each other’s hair.

Prompt 19: Girl in the Fireplace Fix-It

Now we enter what I call the Fix-It Trilogy. Three fix-it prompts that hit all the basics. Girl in the Fireplace, the episode that makes no sense in the context of the series.

Prompt 20: Doomsday Fix-It

Doomsday, the ending that broke our hearts.

Prompt 21: Journey’s End Fix-It

And Journey’s End. The ending that healed us, only to rip out our hearts all over again.

Prompt 22: Alternate Universe

This one is fun! Alternate universe can be anything. Whether it be canon divergence, or the Doctor and Rose meeting in a coffee shop. The world is your oyster.

Prompt 23: Historical

Rose never got a lot of chances to wear period wear in the show. It’s a shame since it led to such an iconic moment. “You look beautiful”

Prompt 24: Rose Meeting a Classic Doctor

The one thing we want that we can’t have.

Prompt 25: Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey

It’s a famous phrase and unlike the Time Loop prompt, this has a bit of wiggle room for what the parameters are. It could be a time loop, or a paradox!

Prompt 26: Chameleon Arch

The Chameleon Arch is one of the most fascinating pieces of Time Lord technology and has only been explored a couple of times in the show and the extended media. Go wild!

Prompt 27: Bad Wolf

This one is more up to you! Is Rose the Bad Wolf again, is she protecting the Doctor? Or has her biology been changed? There are many interpretations of this prompt and every possibility is exciting.

Prompt 28: The Oncoming Storm

The Doctor has been known to be protective of Rose to say the least. And sometimes the Doctor has to let everyone know why he’s called The Oncoming Storm.

Prompt 29: Soulmates

A good old fashioned soulmate au can never go wrong. There are so many to choose from! The possibilities are endless, let your imagination go wild!

Prompt 30: Wedding

And to close out the month weddings!! They could be at a wedding, they could be throwing a wedding, or even having a wedding, just make it so the Doctor and Rose are involved with a wedding somehow.

[aghoulbyanothername]

another swissdrop fic - what have i become

wax play really, that's it, 1.3k, cut for length, nsfw obv,

read on ao3

Swiss has been tied up and on his back for almost two hours now and it didn’t look like he was going to be freed any time soon. 

The room Dewdrop dragged him into looked inconspicuous, run-of-the-mill play rooms in the Abbey for all’s use. This one was specifically designed for ghouls, heavily reinforced for feral ghouls with a few magical items that the humans are not allowed to touch. 

He was laying on the marble slap that takes up almost half the room, in a relatively uncomfortable position really. Dew had him stand on his knees before he pushed him on his back, his calves were next to his thighs, and his wrists were bound in magically reinforced handcuffs, keeping them above his head. His legs had numbed a long time ago, and now most of the pain came from his chest.

Dewdrop had been torturing him for hours. No, like, literal torture. Without malicious intent, sure, but still torture. 

He had ripped Swiss’s pants right away, making him think that his cock was about to receive attention. He was wrong. That was all the attention his lower side received. Instead, Dew was focusing on his chest. 

Swiss was covered in colorful candle wax. 

He didn’t understand how he didn’t see the basket of candles and the bucket of ice that was in the corner of the room when he entered. 

Since they started Dew had been lighting different candles and letting them melt while he traced ice all over Swiss’s chest, licking right after the ice. The changing heat levels drove Swiss crazy, the ice sending shivers down his spine followed by Dew’s warm mouth licking stripes against him shot all the blood in his body into his cock, which was ignored for so so long. 

At one point, Dew brought the ice cube close to his crotch where precum had mixed with melted ice water and some wax, which made Swiss feel like he was about to explode if he didn’t get any friction on his cock. 

He survived but at what cost. 

Just as he thought the ice was getting comfortable and enjoyable, Dew grabbed one of the candles, the red one, and placed a menacing grin on his face, one that caused Swiss’s cock to twitch in anticipation. 

He trailed a long clawed finger from Swiss’s throat to his chest, nail digging into the skin ever so slightly without drawing any blood. Once he found the middle of his sternum, he placed a light kiss there. Swiss was surprised at the tender moment, only to be shocked by the hot wax dripping on his chest right after.

In all technicality, the wax only hit his chest, yet he still felt like his whole body was on fire. A jolt of electricity ran through his spine, causing him to arch his back, and raise on his knees a little only to be stopped by the handcuffs on his wrists. The sound that escaped his mouth was a perfect mix of pain and pleasure, his chest rumbling with the sensation. 

He felt like with just one touch, he would fall apart and come the hardest he’d ever come in his entire life, yet the touch didn’t come. 

That was just the first thirty minutes. After seeing how much Swiss was enjoying the pain and how incredible it felt to torture his mate, Dewdrop had gone wild with the wax. He seemed to have an endless supply of candles to burn and well, fire ghoul magic to speed up the process and he worked on his craft diligently for the next hour and a half. 

He managed to cover Swiss’s entire chest in wax, an obscene amount spilling from the sides as well. Some decorated his neck like a precious necklace, and even some on his legs, thighs mostly, driving Swiss even more insane at the lack of stimulation on his cock. So close yet so far. He even threatened to put some on his mouth if he didn’t stop begging, and actually put some on his forehead, mostly for shits and giggles. 

He was most proud of the one where he spelled his name on his bicep. 

At the end of the two hours, Swiss was beginning to get tired, legs hurting too much, arms strained and body unable to keep up with the heat and the cold changing so fast. 

His cock had been rock hard and leaking cum since they started, begging for attention. The wax that was on his crotch was covered in precum. He had even stopped rocking his hips in the air, as that made things even more painful.

“Please,” he let out for the thousandth time that night. “Please, Dew.”

“Mhmmm? Please what toots?”

“Please let me cum.” 

Dew stepped back to admire his art. 

He loved the sight in front of him. The room was illuminated by the candles, Swiss in the middle of it. Back arched back as inhumanly as possible, a mess of colors on his chest and legs, but his favorite was the dripping cock in the middle, almost purple from the pain. The layers of wax on his chest were slowly starting to crack, every breath without touch agony for Swiss, causing him to inhale and exhale deeper, in hopes of salvation. 

“Be careful what you wish for,” he grinned. This was his plan all along, the pièce de résistance, what he’d been dreaming of all this time, but he knew he had to take his time for it, get him ready and pliant. Desperate, begging. 

He reached for the black candle, the one that was considerably bigger than the rest. A nice pool of melted wax was on the top, ready for his final attack. 

With his right hand, he held the candle while he grabbed a small ice cube with his left and made his way to Swiss’s side, close to his cock.

Relief washed over Swiss’s face, finally about to reach his own climax, too gone to think straight he didn’t even see what Dew was holding in his hands. He just closed his eyes, and waited for a hand, if he was lucky a warm mouth on his cock, bringing him to his release.

With a swift motion, Dewdrop brought the candle to Swiss’s cock, close enough for him to feel the fire that was still burning. His eyes snapped open as he felt the fire almost touch his cock but before he could react to it, a pool of hot candle wax was pouring over his throbbing cock, coating it almost entirely. 

He let out a scream loud enough to wake some people up in their bedrooms. Just as he thought the wax was too much, Dew placed the candle on the floor, the fire dead now, and grabbed Swiss’s cock with the hand that was still holding the ice cube in it and started jerking him as fast as he could. 

The heat of the wax on his cock mixed with the ice cube in Dew’s hand drove Swiss insane, finally receiving the touch he desperately needed on his cock overclouded by the heat and the cold. 

He let out a string of ah’s as Dew jerked him, the ice cube almost fully melted now and the wax dry, tugging his skin every time Dewdrop moved his hand. Swiss found one last strength in his body and rocked his hips against Dew’s hand, finally bringing himself to the edge and came as hard as he could, adding the final touches to the masterpiece Dew painted on his body. 

Still shaking and whimpering, he groaned for the last time as Dew’s hand slowed down, not yet stopping, milking the last of his orgasm. 

He let out a shaky breath as Dew removed his hand from his cock, placing his finger on Swiss’ chest, dragging a long nail across the wax that was now covered in an insane amount of cum. 

“Thank you for your contribution, my love,” Dew said, admiring his art one last time. 

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What if paranoid Bella told Carlisle what's going on and enlisted his help? Like if she overheard/learned something that made her think he might help, or if this is the Bella who's stuck in a time loop and figures it's worth a shot and at worse she'd be yeeted right back to the beginning of the loop if the vampire doctor is in cahoots with his scary son?

Anon is referring to Paranoid Bella. Now, Paranoid Bella has tried something like this once before, sort of, Billy called Carlisle on her behalf. It went places so awful I refuse to put them down in words.

Here the question is what if Bella asked Carlisle herself.

Why Paranoid Bella Would Never Do This

She can't trust any of the Cullens, for all she knows, they're in league with Edward. Bella's wearing her tin foil hat and that tin foil hat has kept her alive, dammit. For all she knows, this Dracula's Bride thing is just what vampires do and she's the latest victim.

She would never, ever, trust any of the Cullens. Ever.

Dr. Cullen seems nice as he stitches her up? IT'S A TRAP!

As For Time Loop Bella...

Anon's referring to this post, which... You really want this AU, don't you? I think that's conflating things a little too much here, and gives us way too different of a set up.

That Bella would probably try anything and everything, but she's also reached a point of nihilism where she just doesn't care anymore and might just do it to fuck with these people.

Even if she tells Carlisle, she probably keeps looping, and is well aware of this. Life is misery, pain, and endless.

Kind of misses the spirit of your post (which I assume is to get Paranoid Bella out of the miserable hole she's stuck in).

Bella Takes a Leap of Faith

But alright, Carlisle Cullen seems unusually cool and rational as he stitches her up. Maybe it's the pain talking, or Bella's own increasing desperation with her latest brush with morality, but she realizes just as Edward does that this is untenable.

If Bella keeps hanging around these people, as Edward insists she does (Edward having insisted on this goddamn birthday party at his house), then she will die sooner or later. Either Edward or his family will eat her.

This cannot go on and, as of that moment, Bella doesn't know that Edward is going to attempt to leave her within a few days.

This is the first time she's alone with Carlisle, the head of the coven, and probably the only time she ever will be. This is the only chance she'll ever have to ask for help from someone who can actually do something about it.

Bella interrupts Carlisle's "Edward's just weirdly religious" explanation and tells him that Edward's a lunatic. She needs help.

Carlisle has a, "Wait, what?" moment. He knew she was jumpy, very nervous, but she'd seemed very happy with Edward. Also, from his perspective, Edward is a very noble spirit if very young. Edward went on the human diet and came back, presumably understanding the inherent worth of human life. Edward voted not to murder Bella after the truck.

Yes things have been... weird, and Carlisle was concerned, still is about some parts, but it seemed to be going so well.

It's not.

He sits there in numb horror as Bella tells him all about the times Edward snuck through her window (greasing it to make it silent), to stare at her while she sleeps, the time he threatened to kill himself upon her inevitable death, how he has admitted to following her everywhere and spying on her through the thoughts of those around her, and all about that time he contemplated the murder of his entire Biology class to eat Bella: his personal brand of heroin.

Carlisle's listening to someone talk about a completely different person.

But Bella's insistent, Edward Cullen is Ted Bundy in the making, and Bella now has no other recourse but to turn to Carlisle. HELP. ME.

Well, they don't have much time left.

Edward will be back any moment and Carlisle... there must be some misunderstanding, right? Except, with some of these details, there's no misunderstanding this. If Edward actually said and did all of this: then this is horrible.

Regardless, it's very clear that Bella wants nothing to do with the Cullens and especially with Edward. That makes things very clear: Carlisle has to talk to Edward on Bella's behalf and get him to back the fuck off.

Though Carlisle does warn Bella that, as she knows the secret, she and the coven are technically breaking the law. If she's found out, Bella will either be murdered or turned. It's not necessarily likely anyone will find out but... It's not exactly a great position for the coven to be in, or Bella for that matter.

This is news to Bella.

Bella says she'll think about this vampire business (she's not thrilled) and really doesn't want to join the Cullens, and Carlisle will talk to Edward.

The talk doesn't go well.

Edward denies, denies, denies, and... admits some of it might be true were you to look at it from a the naive angle of a pure young woman who knows nothing of the world. Edward wasn't sneaking into Bella's room to rape/eat her, no, he was protecting her! From spiders! And that time he forced her to ride home with him, he was afraid she wouldn't be able to drive after fainting! And that time he almost murdered all of Biology... That was out of context, Carlisle.

Carlisle grows increasingly horrified as Edward's every answer confirms that he is, in fact, horrifying. This is someone who cares nothing about human life, not truly, and is a predator.

Carlisle immediately tells Edward it's over. Consider this a restraining order from Bella, he is never to speak to her, never to be near her, never to see her ever again.

Edward implodes.

Carlisle now hates him, this is terrible, Bella his true love doesn't love him at all and poisoned Carlisle against him, and she's ruined everything!

Spiraling further into madness, as one does, Edward concludes that Bella was a vile villainess: that this was her plan the entire time. She faked her love for him, faked being this utterly wonderful and perfect being, so that she could destroy his family as well as Edward himself? Why? Because she's the type who wants to see the world burn.

Edward's love turns to utter hatred, he's back in Biology again where this little girl dares to disrupt his life, only it's 1000 times worse. Bella Swan is the greatest evil that has ever walked this Earth.

And now he's a man with nothing to lose.

Carlisle's love for him? Already gone. Carlisle's faith in Edward's humanity? Gone. Why should Edward hold back anymore? Why shouldn't he have what he wants?

Within a few days, by the time Edward was originally going to leave, he sneaks into Bella's house and murders her in her bedroom. He then likely desecrates her corpse so she's unrecognizable, to make her as ugly in death as she should have been in life.

Edward then flees, leaving the coven for good, and returns to his diet of people. Not murderers and rapists anymore though, that pretense is done, because he's fully embraced being a monster.

I imagine out of pettiness he kills women who look like Bella.

Conclusion

Congratulations, anon, you have lost the Twilight Yandere Simulator.

[soupbabe]

Heard you wanted to be spammed with requests-

So uh- Idk if you do platonic headcanons but- maybe platonic Stardust crusaders with a pillar crusader? Doesn't matter what,,, gender the bby pillar person is,,, just,,, sweet pillar babe who's tall af- and totally acts like a doofus at times---

You dont have to do this tho uvu

Stardust Crusaders + Pillarman! Reader HCs

It says Pillar*man* in title, but reader will be gender neutral, I think that's just the species (?) name! Also I like doing platonic requests so I don't mind doing this at all ! <3

Joseph Joestar

He met you around the time he met Santana

You were stuck in the same Pillar as the youngest pillarman, also playing the role of a guard dog before you were turned into stone

The main difference between you and your (uh forced adopted?) brother is that your face broke out in a huge smile and giggles filled the room when he booped your nose and told you to be happy

You were loyal to Kars, but throughout the time in Battle Tendency that decreased due to the realization that he never cared about you and did abandon you without thought

Joseph was there to comfort you through it and you helped in defeating Kars in return

After BT, you were sent to be studied at the Speedwagon Foundation and years later they were able to replicate the red stone of Aja for you

Ultimate Y/N ! Ultimate Y/N !

Sunburn no more

You became a nature deity, similar to Kars

First thing you did when the study was done was prank Joseph into thinking that the Ultimate Lifeform came back

Although it didn't work all too well, your forced down smile and stifled giggles definitely wasn't a sign of Kars, despite the mighty wings you sprouted

You lived with Suzi Q and Joseph for the majority of your new life and you adored being apart of their lives

Also they did make you babysit Holly numerous times even though you had no idea what a human baby looked like until now

Should've learned their lesson when one time you were caught making a rough sketch of what would have been a traditional pillarman tattoo on a 10 year old Holly, claiming that it's needed for her to grow up big and strong like you

Although you weren't a stand user, you had experience fighting ancient supernatural beings stronger than some stand users and you were a deity among men. Joseph didn't wait to take you with him when he found out that Dio was making a return

When Holly got sick and it was clear the crusaders had to go to Egypt, you didn't hesitate to sign up. It was a rare time that you were serious and your loyalty to your aged best friend shined through. You loved his family and you saw Holly grow up, of course you'd be there for him

Throughout SDC, you mostly just laughed at him (mostly during the fight with Mariah) and cracked jokes with him to ease tense situations

Also that bit at the end of the show where he pretended that Dio possessed his body?? He got that from you and you both laughed while Jotaro gave you both a glare

Iggy

Oh my god you barked back.

Y'all gossip with each other in dog, you're a nature deity, of course you can understand him perfectly

Added bonus of your powers is that he naturally relaxes with you

Sleepy gremlin

Jotaro Kujo

It took him a while to warm up to you

You were raised by Kars and Esidisi, dealing people who come off as cold and have occasional outbursts of anger come natural to you

He first doesn't think of you as anything when he first saw you

It wasn't until you sized him up, easily towering over the 6'5" teen, his eyes widened in astonishment a little

He has no problems with you, you're respectful to his mother and you respect his privacy for the most part

You're real bonding moment was when you made a lame, but fairfly obscure, fish pun when beating up the stand user of Dark Blue Moon

You both talked about marine life, he was genuinely interested in your experiences with ancient marine species and types of life before evolution made them what they were today

Although he doesn't like the happy go lucky types of people (they remind him of his annoying fangirls) you'll be the exception

A moment you both really became friends was in the Steely Dan fight

You shot your hand up in excitement, offering to aid in beating the hell out of the cocky bastard that mistreated Jotaro and Joseph

It was a good moment for you both to have light hearted banter and you ended the fight with a smile and a high five

Although persuading Joot to do the high five went more like: "Jotaro please" "No." "Pleassseeeeeee" "*sigh* Leave me alone after this."

I thank that you can't see stands. I can only imagine the endless lighthearted fights you and Star Platinum would have, you both giving each other proud smiles of how strong your friend has become

Noriaki Kakyoin

You gave a welcoming and cheerful aura when he woke up at the Kujo household

Out of all Crusaders, I do like to think that you would think of Kakyoin as more of a little brother

Probably because you miss Santana a bit tbh, red hair and a more reserved personality?? Easy for that to happen

Although you do make sure to keep that distinction between the two separate beings, gotta be healthy bby

You were one to always encourage him to get more out of his shell and be the friend he deserved

He would encourage you to speak about Pillarman society/culture when you both roomed together

One time you pranked him by giving him a handful cherries and giving him a tiny jumpscare when the cherries actually did turn back into your hand

Sometimes you both make fun of Polnareff together </3

Jean-Pierre Polnareff

,,,,big tall gentle giant? Oh my god he would've melted for you at first

He flirted with you first thing after the fight with Avdol, only to be immediately shut down with your laughter

It's not the first time someone hit on you, but his attempt was so cheesy and bad that it was funny

Don't worry he didn't keep on flirting with you though, it was clear that you weren't interested

That and you told him that you were over 1000 years old

You both were outgoing so it wasn't a big surprise that you two got along so well

He actually enjoys your tales of past fights and how it was like not being able to be in the sun for the longest time

That and he asked for hair care tips, your hair is very beautiful to him and to keep it as such even when you were turned to stone? Impressive

You both are dumbasses together, but you're the one to save his ass all the time

Especially during the first fight with Hol Horse, guns can't kill you and even then your skin can create a harsh shell to soften the blow

You just laughed it off, said that it tickled, and encouraged Polnareff to chase after the (now) frightened cowboy

You and Polnareff also have a lot in common too and you both are able to be for each other when it comes to Polnareff's grief over his sister and you technically being the only pillarman alive

Omg Y/N I can't believe you have yourself an emotional support himbo I'm jealous

You're also a wingman/wingwoman for him, years and years of experience (and using Joseph in his younger years as a "what not to do" reference) led you to being the perfect helper in getting whoever Polnareff wants

Muhammad Avdol

He's read about the Pillarmen, but he never thought that they were actually real

So when he met you he was flabbergasted

You and Avdol's friendship is like him unintentionally parenting a 7 foot 5 year old on one of those kid leashes

He knows that almost nothing can cause you great harm, but he still worries

Because of that his favorite form of hanging out with you involves chatting over tea or showing you foods you might not be aware of

In all honesty, it's greatly appreciated since your diet switched from vampires and humans to absorbing like 2-3 raw cows every other week. Your "palate" is not as expansive as you may think

While in India, you were able to buy some Henna and Avdol was very open to you giving him a mock Pillar tattoo

He wore it with pride and was very greatful

Sometimes when he gets homesick you make your arm into a chicken, and although it isn't the real thing, he appreciates it

You also show him ancient Pillar rituals too and it's his favorite thing to listen to

In return, you bother him to show you how to read tarot and tell him about (in your words) "occult business~"

You balance each other out and Avdol cherishes you greatly

When the mission to Egypt was over, he did name a chicken after you btw

[earthnashes]

Some redesigns for my LoZ headcanon/AU! :3 I was originally gonna do just Link and Zelda for this post but I figured it’s been a loooong time since I last actually did anything with Linkle and Aryll, so they got a redesign treatment too. owo Now then! Here’s some headcanon on Hylians as a whole and the characters here representing them! uwu

----------

-Princess Zelda is the royal princess of Hyrule, daughter of King Satori Donovan Hyrule and Queen Anju. Zelda is hailed as the reincarnation of Hylia and, as such, is destined for many great feats: unlocking her inner power of a Goddess, future queen of Hyrule, protector of the Triforce... or so she’s told. Zelda, for all her talents, feels as if she wasn’t meant for the destiny laid out in front of her... or worse, she believes she’s a fluke in the long line of her several lifetimes. She isn’t exactly nervous or shy, and she does hold some confidence in herself, but those long ears are more than just for show: she knows what her kingdom thinks of her. 

Due to her inability to access her divine magic and her mother’s checkered past before marrying the king, Zelda is unfortunately the target of unsavory gossip, and it’s something that lurks constantly in the back of her head.

-Link is a humble farmboy who lives with his family in an equally humble Ordon Village. Outside of odd jobs he takes to help out around his village, Link spends most of his time at Lon Lon Ranch, helping Malon and her father with farm work; his favorite is absolutely tending to the horses. When he isn’t on the farm working he’s often training alongside his parent Rune, who is a royal guard stationed in Ordon Village for protection. Link is selectively mute but carries a lot of character, visibly expressive and using his gestures to get his point across (alongside sign language). He’s friendly, reliable, and a bit of a goof, and is the childhood friend of the princess Zelda.

For all of his content with his current life, Link has had strange bouts of dreams and nightmares, flashes of what he swears is images of the past and... something else. He doesn’t know what to make of them.

-Linkle (real name “Kenil”) is Link’s sister and, as she likes to say, “the cooler twin”. She doesn’t actually think herself as cooler than her twin brother though, and in fact a bit of a klutz; she’s tripped and fallen on more than one occasion and can be a bit oblivious... “dumn jock” might fit her. However, that only really shows itself whenever she’s not out and about in the wilds; the moment Linkle enters combat, or is out in the forest, her clumsiness suddenly vanishes; perhaps she feels more comfortable amongst the trees? Linkle’s main occupation in the village is a hunter, and she’s the best shot in the entire village, rivaled only by her mother Oroh and Link himself.

-Aryll is Link and Linkle’s younger sister and the youngest of the Hero family, but that certainly doesn’t stop her from being the most adventurous!  Aryll has boundless energy and endless thirst for adventure; very rarely will she hesitate when something new presents itself to her. She’s quite brave for her age but her search for excitement can (and has) ended up with her getting into trouble: bandaids aren’t a new concept for her. Her zealous spirit can often lead to impatience, but she enjoys helping others a lot: if she isn’t running around chasing the heels of adventure, she’s running around helping the people in her village however she can (usually with their chores). Just like the noble knights in her mother’s stories... just like her Baba! (”baba” is what the siblings call their parent Rune)

---------------

-As a race, Hylians are the most common in Hyrule and are spread out all across the kingdom, though they’re the main inhabitants of the capitol.

-While all the races have an affinity to magic (since magic is innate in any living thing), Hylians typically have the strongest magic and the best grasp on it. As such, it’s an integral part of their culture, often opting to use it instead of the advanced technology the Sheikah have developed (with a few exceptions they can’t live without). Most soldiers and warriors in Hyrule rely on swordplay and magi in combat.

-The Hylians are the only race in Hyrule to technically not have a Patron Deity. This is because the Sage of Hyrule, the goddess Hylia herself, doubles as their patron deity as well. Given she is Hylia in a mortal form, Zelda harbors this divine magic, including the ability the transform into a mighty dragon, but she is unable to harness it as of now.

-The Hylians have a relatively good relationship with the other races of the kingdom, though they are by far the most conservative, second only to the Rito. It’s this attitude that lends to the gossip and disapproval of King Satori’s choice in queen (who was a commoner with an “unsavory” occupation at the time), and their perception of Zelda, specifically amongst the wealthy and residents closer to the capitol.

[ramblinseahorsey]

There’s so many people out there trying to give Greg’s parents the benefit of the doubt, saying they meant the best for him, or that Greg just didn’t do a good enough job explaining to them he was unhappy.  That Greg and Steven just need to talk to them, to reach out to them, and hope is a great thing.

But I knew the second I saw this shot that they didn’t love him. They didn’t answer his letters.  Never. Didn’t even read them.  Don’t try and tell me Greg didn’t try.  Don’t tell me he didn’t reach out.

Greg didn’t just say they just discouraged music or pushed him to do sports, this isn’t a Barbara kind of miscommunication.  He clearly said they forced him to do sports and music was off limits. He tried.  From the looks of it, he tried many years after he left too. 

Don’t try and tell me that parents that saw their kid constantly frowning or looking like they were gonna cry in their photos and did nothing about it loved their kid. 

The only picture we see Greg look happy in was his school photo.  Not the one they liked enough to frame.  It is possible there are happy pictures around here with him and his parents we just didn’t see, but I wouldn’t place any bets on it.

The only mistake Greg made in Mr. Universe was not being more tactful with how he explained all of this to Steven.

Greg never specified the lack of love, and therefore Steven just didn’t get it.  He saw all these pictures and trophies and baby items and thought, that’s love, right?  He doesn’t understand or know about the parents who obsess over nick knacks, doesn’t get that these weren’t treasured memories to them, they were collectibles.  Anybody who’d still keep the letters, but not open them, was clearly after the status of being parents, not the actual time with their kid.  They kept in view things from a time he was obedient.  But all Steven sees is the image of a pretty, normal family house, the image Greg’s parents were more obsessed with maintaining than communications with their actual kid.  

They wanted him in their life at first, sure, but only back when they still thought there was hope that he’s end up just like them.  Back when he would still go to the island, back when he couldn’t fight his hair getting cut, back when they thought he could be the cookie cutter clone of them that looked neat in family photos and would prevent them from having to explain to people what he did for a living or why he wasn’t going on vacation for them, yet again, using him as a part of their image, not their son.  

Greg wouldn’t have called all of that junk, when he’s been shown to love collecting and having random junk, failed to emotionally connect or get nostalgic about a single item there, if there had been any love or bonding attached to any of them. 

Greg is a loving, loving, forgiving man.  If there had been any good memories in that house, 

he wouldn’t have constantly looked miserable in it except when he was talking about when he escaped it.

Greg, unknowingly, and only trying to help, bless his heart, made a huge mistake with a single sentence.  

“Trust me, your better off than I was!”  OUch.

He pushed Steven away the second he made a comparison between their lives.  You just can’t play the comparison game with people who were traumatized. 

Was he right that Steven got to grow up with love Greg didn’t? Well, yes, but Steven doesn’t realize that.  All he hears is the man who grew up in a nice, warm, not corrupted gem attacked house, with a nice, normal, not training just in case someone was on their way to murder you education, in a calm, relaxed, not born a war criminal childhood.  And complaining about it!

Of course he got mad!! Even if Greg had specified he wasn’t loved, how could he dare use the word better to describe Steven’s life?  Greg meant nothing bad by it, but as far as Steven was concerned, Greg was telling him he had a wonderful childhood, a wonderful future ahead of him, “just like mom” did.

Greg couldn’t have just brought up a half alien baby wanted dead in a normal community, training with the gems, unstable parents or not, was necessary for his survival.  But in the heat of the moment, Steven doesn’t think of that, the way he talks in this scene, he really thinks he could’ve had that, that a normal childhood could’ve “fixed” him, and that his dad’s choice was the only thing that stopped him from having that.

And between that and the crash, that was the trigger needed for Steven to push his dad away.  The guilt for yet another person he thinks he’s a danger to, and the huge feelings of jealousy he was too ashamed yet still too angry to voice over his dad getting to grow up human.  Steven saw his yearbook pictures and nearly got choked up saying the words “more human” pausing with a frown he quickly gets rid of, yearning to be the human in Greg’s pictures.  

So many out here are trying to take sides, either saying Greg was wrong and Steven was right, or Greg was right and Steven was wrong, but in the end both are true.  Both had the right to be unhappy with what they were given, and both should have done a better job trying to understand and listen to the others plight. 

While Greg should have worded things much, much more tactfully, and definitely, even if accidentally, hurt his kid with his words, he meant no more harm than any of the other people who’ve tried to cheer him up, and was right about all he said.

Yet you can’t get mad at Steven either, because as far as he’s concerned, all he learned today is that his dad had it so much easier, less terrifying, and found an identity in a way that Steven couldn’t relate to, couldn’t use.

That his dad can’t help him anymore.

Edit:  I’m not saying redemption is impossible for his parents,(Steven Universe is all about second chances), I’m saying that I can’t see it happening.  If you wanna be technical about it, anyone can be redeemed.  But that’s the point isn’t it? Anyone can change, but they have to want to.  The only person I could see being less likely to want to change is Marty.  

While possibilities are endless, the people who can not love their own child while raising them don’t tend to be the kinds of people to have a turnaround.  Not saying it hasn’t happened before, just that it’s so very, very rare.

These two made it very clear they didn’t want to, that they don’t want to.  It would be different If the letters were opened.  For a redemption/family reunion to work with these two, they’d have to make the first step.  Perhaps they’d get wind of Steven’s existence, and in a change of heart that came in old age, they’d get motivated to try getting back in touch even though they thought at this point it was too late.  Perhaps we’d get a shot of opened letters falling down not neat and tidy on the dresser.  

For it to work for me, Greg would have to receive a letter.

But i’m not holding my breath.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Anything for You

So, I got this idea in my head and I wrote it. This is not the first thing I’ve written, but the first that I finished. And the first that I’m posting. Sorry if it sucks. I hope someone out there likes it. Italics indicate past memories.

Summary: This takes place after Maeve. It sort of starts a month before Spencer goes back to work but then skips a year. Reader is the newest member of the BAU. Spencer lashes out when she tries to help him, but he doesn’t realize how much she can relate to his trauma. 

warnings: angst but also a little fluff, typical CM violence (kidnapping, torture, death etc.), dark thoughts about dying, I think that’s it

Word Count: 6218

 It is moments like this that make you rethink every decision that lead you here. You are on the jet on the way back to Quantico after a particularly rough case. The team managed to save the most recent victim, but only to discover three more hidden on the unsubs property. And to make it worse, they were children. Everyone on the team keeps shooting you concerned glances, worried that you might break. It’s only fair. You are still the newbie.

 You started at the BAU one month ago to the day. Your previous position was a desk job, but you were ready to get back into field after two years of endless paperwork. Not that the entire team knows you had been in the field before. Only Hotch knows. You don’t like to talk about it. You had gone so far as to cut Hotch off to prevent him from bringing it up on your first day.

 You are counting down the floors with each beep as the elevator rises to bring you to the floor that houses the Behavioral Analysis Unit. To say you aren’t nervous would be a lie, but that comes with the territory of starting a new job. Especially a job with one of the most elite units of the FBI. It’s hard not to be intimidated.

 The elevator doors slide open, revealing the all too familiar glass doors that lead to the BAU. When you were trying to decide if switching career paths was the right decision, you found yourself staring at these doors far more than you’d care to admit.

 You walk through the doors, immediately heading for Hotch’s office. He told you to meet him there first thing this morning. You knock on the open door to draw his attention.

 “Agent L/N, please come in.” He looks up from the file he has open on his desk.

 “Agent Hotchner, I would just like to thank you again for the position.” You have to stop yourself before you ramble on about how grateful you are for his taking a chance on you.

 “Please, call me Hotch. You’re new ID was just dropped off.” He says, handing you the plastic card to put in your credentials. You take a moment to admire the way your name looks just above the words “Behavioral Analysis Unit” before sliding it into the wallet.

 “I wish we had time for a more thorough welcoming, but we just got a case. I’ll introduce you to the team in the conference room.” He rises from his desk, you following behind him to a room already full of profilers. Of course, you already know of them all, but the introductions are nice nonetheless.

 “L/N, these are SSAs Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, and Jennifer Jureau and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” You shake hands with each member of the team as there name is called. “Team, this is SSA Y/N L/N. She transferred from violent crimes-” You know he is going to bring up your previous field work, so you cut him off.

 “It’s an honor to meet you all.” You smiled at Hotch, trying your best to get him to move on. Thankfully, you can see in his eye that he understands why you don’t want to relieve your past field experience.

 “Actually, that’s not all. Dr. Reid is on leave at the moment, but you’ll meet him when he returns.” You nod, taking a seat next to Derek. “Garcia, you can start now.”

 The memory fades and you try to ignore the concerned glances from everyone on the jet. Yes, you were the one to find the children in the back shed, but you have techniques to handle this. You’ve always been good at compartmentalizing. It comes with the territory of undercover work.

 You are more concerned with the wellbeing of one Dr. Reid. This is the first case you’ve worked with him, but it still feels like something’s off. Granted, you don’t know why he was on leave or how long it lasted.

 After everyone else is asleep, barring Hotch who is too focused on his reports to pay you any attention, you slide down into the seat across from Spencer. He doesn’t even glance up from his book.

 “Dr. Reid?” You can tell he’s stopped reading at the sound of your voice, but it takes him a moment to actually look up at you. When he does, you can see the sadness in his eyes.

 “L/N. Are you okay?” Of course he would ask you that. You’ve known him for all of 72 hours, but he’s still concerned about you’re wellbeing. The way your heart flutters at the sentiment catches you off guard.

 “Oh, um, I’m fine. I actually wanted to check on you.” He looks startled at that, but you just push forward. “I know we only just met, and I have no idea what you’re going through, but I just thought maybe I could help.” You can see the instant you finished talking that it was a mistake. He is clearly not ready to talk about his demons, especially with a near stranger.

 “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ “No, you shouldn’t have.” His words are defensive more than anything. The words of someone who just went through unbelievable pain “You couldn’t possibly help me. Unless, of course, you’ve been kidnapped, tortured, and drugged, shot multiple times, and witnessed the love of your life being murdered in front of you just to name a few. I’m sure you have plenty of experience with that given your work in violent crimes.” The sarcasm is obvious, with violent crimes being a desk job. He mistakes the tears that spring to your eyes as pity rather than understanding. He scoffs, going back to his book while you wander back to your previous seat, trying to control your emotions.

 Spencer doesn’t know about your time undercover. He doesn’t know you experienced all of those things. He doesn’t know about the scars that line your torso or the more prevalent scars on your heart. You try not to take it personally. You’ve had years to deal with your trauma. His is clearly newer. You tell yourself over and over that he’s not angry with you, but with the world. You just happened to be the first available outlet.

 When the others wake up, they assume your red eyes are due to the case. That you are finally breaking down after a month on the job. They offer words of encouragement and promises to be there if you need to talk. They stress how you aren’t alone. They all know how you feel. You simply nod, gathering your things before heading home. You can’t help but think there is one of them who knows exactly what is going through your head. It’s the first time you’ve cried over Cameron in three months, the last time being the anniversary of his death.

 -------

 The next year at the BAU flies by. You actually feel like part of the family, knowing you could talk to any member of the team when you need a friend. Well, almost any member of the team. You and Spencer didn’t click the way everyone thought you would. Ever since the conversation on the plane, you hold back when you’re with him. It’s not that you two avoid each other. You’re just more like coworkers than family. You converse when you need to, but don’t seek each other out.

 Nobody understands why. Hotch especially thought the two of you would become close. You can see why he would think so. From your brief encounters with Spencer, you can tell he’s been through hell. Hotch was probably hopeful the two of you might bond over shared trauma, act as an anchor for each other to know you aren’t alone. Of course that required you to share your trauma with the team, which definitely has not happened.

 It’s not that you don’t trust them. It’s just that the moment hasn’t provided itself yet. First of all, you can’t just casually bring up being kidnapped and tortured for government secrets with your fiancé who was then murdered in front of you. Second of all, something in you says it would crush Spencer. You can tell he clearly still feels bad about what he said to you that day.

 You two hadn’t talked about it. It was a year later, and you still hadn’t talked about it. You would think he forgot, but he does have a rather prolific memory. Everything was fine though. Mostly. He still seemed nervous around you. Or maybe you were projecting. There is something about Dr. Reid…

 “Y/N, can I talk to you?” You were honestly surprised to hear Spencer’s voice saying those six words. Everyone else had already gone home, even Hotch. You just wanted to finish one more file.

 “Of course, what’s up?” You try desperately to sound casual, to pretend like you weren’t just thinking about him. Despite not talking to Spencer all that often, you still have a massive amount of respect for him. Watching him work is incredible. You would expect most people with his intelligence to come off as cocky, but he is somehow still so humble.

 “I just wanted to apologize. For what I said on the jet. I was in a bad place, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have said those things, you were just trying to help me, and I threw it back in your face. Also, I’m sorry it took me so long to actually apologize. I just felt so awful, I didn’t know how to bring it up and the longer I waited the more nervous I became and” “Spencer,” he looked startled at the sound of his name. Granted, you normally call him Dr. Reid or Reid when you’re feeling more casual, but still. It’s his name, why is he so surprised you’re using it? “You didn’t do anything wrong. Trust me. You were dealing with an amount of grief nobody should have to go through. I shouldn’t have tried to step in without knowing more about the situation. I’m sorry.” This is your chance. Tell him what happened to you. Come clean about it all.

 He just looks so… relieved. As if you had lifted a weight off his shoulder just by telling him you understood he didn’t mean it. Seeing the hope in his eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to put any of that weight back on him. He had just freed himself, he doesn’t need your problems weighing him back down.

 You can tell he still feels bad, but maybe now the two of you can try to move on. Maybe you’ll actually become friends. Telling him that you have indeed been through all of those things would just bring all that guilt back. For some reason, there is nothing you would rather do than protect Spencer Reid from pain.

 So, you’ve resigned yourself to never telling anyone unless you absolutely had to. You convinced yourself it was a secret you could take to the grave. Nobody needed to know.

 Until one day, they do. And that day happens to be tomorrow.

 --

 “Hello, crime fighters. This one is a doozey.” Penelope walked into the round table room and immediately jumped into the case. “Three heterosexual couples in Plano, Texas have been killed. The details are on your tablets. Be warned, it is not a pretty sight. All the victims were tortured. The men all died of blood loss. The women were drowned after multiple non fatal gunshot wounds and other various forms of torture.” You tensed ever so slightly at the description of the crimes. Hotch shot you a concerned glance, but you waved him off with a slight shake of your head. You zoned out for the rest of Garcia’s description, deciding instead to focus on every detail you could learn from the case files on your tablet.

 “Wheels up in 20.” Hotch’s voice drew you from your focus on the files. “Y/N?” You looked at him from your seat at the table, realizing everyone else had already left. “If this is too much for you, everyone would understand.” You stand, plastering the fakest smile Hotch has ever seen on your face.

 “I appreciate the concern, but there is a job to do. And I intend to do it.” There is no malice behind your words. Only a fierce determination to catch this unsub before he can hurt anyone else.

 “Alright, but Y/N, please. Let me know if you need to talk about it. The whole team is here for you.” You features soften into a genuine smile before you respond.

 “Thank you, Hotch.” And with that, you exit the room. You grab your go bag, meeting the other agents by the elevator.

 The flight to Texas is long enough that the team’s discussion doesn’t prevent everyone from catching up on sleep. While everyone else is resting, preparing to start up again on the ground with fresh eyes, you are pouring over every detail again and again. You just need to know if it’s the same people. The same people who killed your fiancé. The same people who tortured you.

 It was a day like any other. You had just gotten to the bar you were working at as a cover. Cameron was working security, you as a bartender. The mission was supposed to be simple.

 There was a domestic terrorist cell operating just outside of Plano in Addison, TX. The leader was believed to own the very bar you had gotten a job in. You were supposed to gather intelligence, and report back. You weren’t supposed to engage with the terrorist cell. It was a simple mission.

 That day, the day you could never forget, started exactly how you expected it to. The leader was supposed to be meeting with his right hand. You were supposed to learn who or what they were planning to target. You still can’t pinpoint the moment you knew something was wrong.

 Everything was normal when you clocked in. Everything was normal when you served you first few customers. Everything as normal when you walked up to the table hosting the meeting and asked if you could get them anything. Everything was normal until it wasn’t.

 You remember waking up in a warehouse. Cameron was tied to a chair across from you. He was injured, bleeding from a cut in his side. It didn’t look that bad, but there was so much blood. How could such a small cut produce so much blood?

 You had a million questions, but couldn’t form the words to ask them. You’re mouth felt like it was full of cotton. Cameron looked at you as if he knew something you didn’t. You suppose he did, given that he was awake before you. But that’s not what concerned you the most. No, it was the look of pure terror in his eyes. Pure terror, mixed with… resignation? That doesn’t make sense. Why would he be giving up?

 Finally gathering enough strength to speak, you mumble “What happened?”

 “Y/N… they know who we are. I don’t know how they figured it out, but they did. They are going to hurt me to get to you. You can’t let them, okay? Stay strong. Everything will be fine.” His words are rushed. You have a hard time following them, as if the words drift into the air, only to enter your head in a different order.

 Before you have a chance to ask any more questions, you hear a door swing open behind you. You can hear the footsteps, but can’t turn around enough to see who they belong to.

 “Do it.” You know that voice. You know you know it, but you can’t place it.

 A man appears from your left. He stands in front of you, a mask covering his face so you can only see his eyes. “Let’s have some fun.” You’re ready for him to hit you. Or cut you. Or hurt you in any way. What you’re not ready for is him pulling a knife only to walk over to Cameron.

 “No” The word is barely there. You aren’t even sure you said it out loud.

 “Y/N, don’t tell them anything. Okay? I’ll be fine.” Cameron is looking at you with pleading eyes. You both know he’s lying.

 “Your fiancé here is a liar.” The man sneers, dragging his knife down Cameron’s arm. “He will most certainly not be fine.” With that, the man plunges the knife into Cameron’s stomach. A gut wrenching scream leaves his mouth as the man moves the knife around inside his body. You try to control your reaction, but tears instantly spring to your eyes.

 “Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll leave your man alone.” There’s no point. Cameron would never forgive you if you gave up information to the enemy. He’s always been a loyal soldier. Either way, deep down you know he won’t live much longer. He’s lost too much blood. You are going to have to watch the man you love die. He’s going to bleed out in front of you. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

 You are shaken back to reality after the jet has landed. You slowly come to, realizing you must have fallen asleep while you were looking at the files. You can’t get the eyes out of your head now. The last time you had a nightmare was 6 months ago. Although, this was more of a memory than the usual nightmares you have.

 “Y/N/N? You good?” Morgan is looking at you with concern that hasn’t been there since your first month on the job.

 “Yeah, I’m fine. Just groggy.” You try to laugh it off, walking past him and jumping into an SUV. You’re supposed to go with Hotch to the precinct to set up, so you can avoid the rest of the team’s questions for now.

 You bury your head in the files again, trying to discern if anything feels off or if it is all too similar to be a coincidence.

 “Just answer the question. This will all be over.” Cameron is dead. You are staring at his lifeless body as the man tries to torture you to get the answers he wants.

 With all the strength you can muster up, you spit at him. “I didn’t break before and I won’t break now. Do what you want to me. You’ll never get your answers.” “Oh everyone’s got a breaking point. I’ll find yours.” With that, he storms passed you and out of the room.

 You try to inventory the damage he’s done, but it’s hard because he typically drugs you when he leaves. You’re too disoriented to remember everything. You haven’t heard anything else from the first voice, but you finally realized it was the owner of the bar.

 You are just about to drift back into unconsciousness when you hear a loud crash from somewhere in the building. You expect the masked man to come running back into the room, but instead you’re greeted with the face of the terrorist cell leader. He pulls you to your feet, mumbling about how this wasn’t part of the deal.

 You don’t have the energy to protest as he pulls you down hallways and through doors. He bursts into a large open room. It smells like chlorine, but your eyes are too fuzzy to figure out why. The lights just got so much brighter, and you can’t see. You keep slipping on the floor. The third time, you fall to the ground. Everything is wet. He’s kicking you now. No, rolling you. It all feels distant. As if it’s not happening to you, but rather you are watching it happen to someone. Like a movie.

 You hear the splash before you register the water surrounding you. You’re sinking. It’s actually quite warm. Like a comforting blanket tucking you into bed. The sounds of people yelling fade out as the water covers your head. You feel at peace as everything fades to black.

 Suddenly, the peace is gone. You can hear voices. They sound loud, but still distant. Like you are swimming and someone is trying to talk to you from above the water. But the ground is hard now. There’s loud bangs too, but you can’t figure out what they are. There’s no pattern to them, but suddenly they stop. Maybe you’ll never know what they were, oh well. You just want to get back to the peaceful darkness.

 Instead, you feel burning in your lungs and a pounding in your head. It feels like someone is punching you in the ribs. No. No. No. Where’s the peace?

 All at once, the burning liquid is expelled from your lungs and your eyes fly open. You try to spin around, to see what’s happening, but everything hurts. Your lungs are trying to fill with air. Your eyes are trying to adjust to the lights. You head is begging everything to just stop making noise. Then, darkness. It’s not a peaceful transition this time. It’s sudden, as if someone turned everything off.

 “Y/N?” The sound of your name draws you out of the memory again. You turn to see Hotch’s concerned expression. He’s parked the car outside of the station.

 You take a few deep breaths before speaking, trying to prepare yourself for what you never wanted to have to do. “I have to tell them.” Hotch nods with a grim expression on his face.

 “The team won’t judge you for keeping it a secret. We’ll all be there for you.” He tries to smile, but it’s more of a grimace. He’s too worried about you.

 “I know. It’s not me I’m worried about.” For the first time since you met him, Aaron Hotchner looks confused. It’s actually kind of funny. Although, your laughing sounds more delirious than amused.

 “Hotch, my first case with Spencer, do you remember it?” You shudder at the memory.

 “Of course. It was hard on both of you.” Your smile feels weak, even to you.

 “Well, I tried to check on him. I had only just met him, but he looked so sad. I wanted to take his pain away.” You can feel the tears coming, but you can’t figure out why. “He said unless I had been kidnapped, tortured, and drugged, shot multiple times, and witnessed the murder of the love of my life there was nothing I could do to help him.”

 You can’t bring yourself to look at Hotch. His worrisome expression will just make you feel worse.

 “You didn’t tell him.” The realization is evident in the lilt of his voice. Turning toward him, you try to explain, but he cuts you off. “He was listing trauma you’ve both experienced, and you didn’t tell him.”

 “Of course not, he would’ve felt so guilty! He already feels so guilty and he has no idea. We talked it out, you know. We were actually becoming friends, although it was hard to see from an outside perspective.”

 “You had me fooled. The two of you barely talk.” Hotch looks incredulous. You’ve never seen so many emotions on his face in one day, let alone one conversation.

 “I know. It’s still new. Honestly, it happened yesterday.” Hotch actually chuckles at that. “I think he still feels bad that my first impression was him yelling at me. He’s going to feel so guilty, and I just wanted to keep that pain away from him. He doesn’t need my emotional baggage on top of his own.” You can’t read the expression on his face anymore. You can tell he’s thinking something, though he doesn’t intend to share.

 “It’ll all work out in the end, Y/N. Reid is stronger than he looks. He’s been through a lot, but so have you. Let’s go catch this son of a bitch.” And the two of you exit the car as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

 Your nerves build waiting for the rest of the team at the station. Spencer and Derek are last to arrive. You were hoping to have a few more minutes to figure out how to tell them all about the worst moments of your life, but alas the time has come.

 Hotch clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. The conversations about theories die out as all eyes turn to him. “Y/N has a theory to share.”

 That’s one way to put it. Before you can back out, you jump right in.

 “The unsub was a for-hire torturer. I think he left the business and started killing for fun. A sadist. He enjoys the psychological torture of killing the one person you love more than anyone.” You can’t bring yourself to say another word. Spencer looks grief stricken. Everyone else is looking at you in confusion, except Hotch who is looking at you with sorrow. You can’t decide which is worse.

 “What makes you say that?” Derek is the first one to speak. He clearly doesn’t understand why you came to that conclusion. Plus, he’s probably confused that Hotch had to introduce your theory rather than just include it in the brainstorming.

 “Before I worked in violent crimes, I worked in the National Security division. I focused on domestic terrorism. We had a mission go wrong. It was supposed to be a simple, just gathering intel. Something went wrong and two agents were abducted.” You unconsciously decided to depersonalize the story. It’s something Hotch quickly caught on to, but what can he do about it? You just need to get the words out.

 “They were a couple. Engaged. The man, he died from three precise wounds to the abdomen. He bled out while his fiancé was forced to watch.” You’re grateful when Emily interrupts.

 “Did the woman drown?” The woman. You.

 “No. Well, yes. She was dead for 3 minutes when they found her. The cell leader dumped her into a pool in the building she was being held in. They caught him trying to flee the building. When they questioned him about a partner, he said he hired someone to torture the couple to get information. He didn’t know where he went. I think that’s the unsub.”

 Instantly, the team is theorizing. You stay quiet, listening. Where could he have hidden for this long? Were there more crimes in other states? Can Garcia look through unsolved double homicides that fit the signature? Before long, Derek asks the question you’ve been dreading.

 “Can we interview the agent who survived?” You’re grateful that he’s looking at Hotch when he asks. Spencer, though, his eyes haven’t left you since you started speaking. He knows. You know he knows because you can see the weight bearing down on him. You tear your eyes away from him when Hotch clears his throat to get your attention.

 “Y/N, can we interview the agent?” His tone is gentle. Hotch knows what he’s asking. Are you ready to tell them the truth? To share this pain with all of us?

 “Yes. You can interview her.” You are visibly tense, but Morgan is just confused about the interaction. Why would Hotch need to ask you for permission? Why does he sound like someone just kicked his puppy?

 “Great, when can she get here?” Of course, Morgan would ask the next logical question.

 “She’s already here.” Your voice is quiet. He almost doesn’t hear you.

 “What? Where?” He knows he’s missing something. It’ll only take him a few more seconds to put it together, but you save him the trouble.

 “Right here.” You gesture to yourself, eyes flitting between Spencer’s and the ground. The rest of the team didn’t hear you. They were still working out theories as you, Morgan, Hotch, and Spencer converse in cryptic sentences and brief eye contact. Spencer is frozen in place. Hotch was stressed for you. It’s never easy to share past trauma, let alone when you feel like you don’t have a choice.

 The realization hits Morgan so fast he almost falls to the ground. He rushes to you, pulling you into the tightest bear hug you have ever experienced. Morgan has become like an older brother to you. He always jokes about how he would beat up anyone who hurt you. You always joke right back about doing the same for him. He told you about Carl Buford a few months ago. It was also on a case. You would’ve told him everything then, but you didn’t want him to feel like you thought the two were comparable or that his trauma was somehow less important just because you’d been through some bad shit too.

 His actions drew the attention of Rossi, JJ, and Emily though. You weren’t an overly emotional person usually. Undercover work made you good at compartmentalizing, so you never really sought out someone to comfort you. The sight of you in tears, wrapped in Morgan’s arms threw them for a loop. You normally waited until you got home to go through your routine to decompress. It was easier that way. But right now, the thought of even looking at Spencer was enough to bring tears to your eyes. You just couldn’t stop thinking about him. It felt weird, to be sharing such an intimate part of your life with everyone and still be thinking about him. You had moved on from it all though. You knew how to deal with it. Of course, you still love Cameron, but you talk about everything in therapy once a week so you won’t break down like this.

 You see JJ look to Spencer for an explanation, but he’s too busy looking at you with more pain in his eyes than should be possible. He knows how it feels to see someone you love die right in front of you. He knows how it feels to try and move on from being drugged and tortured. He knows how it feels to be alone in it all. What he doesn’t know is how it feels to try and help someone through that grief only to have your own thrown back in your face. That’s what he did to you. Albeit, unintentionally but he did that. And it is so clear that he feels awful. You wish you could talk to him, but Morgan is pulling you into a different conference room for a cognitive interview that you somehow agreed to in your state of shock.

 Hotch explains the situation to Rossi, Emily, and JJ. Spencer’s guilt only pushes further down on him when he hears it all again.

 He stares at the room you’re in through the class doors of the conference room. He hasn’t moved in the ten minutes you’ve been gone. He expected JJ to talk to him first, but he was surprised to find Hotch instead.

 “Y/N told me in the car that she was scared to share that story.” Hotch starts slow, trying to ease Spencer out of his own head.

 “I would be too. It’s a painful memory to relive.” Spencer responds with a familiar tightness in his chest.

 “She wasn’t worried about herself though.” Spencer’s head jerks up to meet Hotch’s stare.

 “What do you mean? Who else would she be worried for?”

 “You.” Hotch says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. You being worried about him when you share your darkest memories.

 “Me?” Spencer practically falls out of his chair in an effort to sit up straighter. “Why would she worry about me?” Despite his genius IQ, he can’t fathom why you would worry about him in this scenario. If roles were reversed and he had to tell the story of watching Maeve die, he wouldn’t be worried about you. He slowly comes to the conclusion that he would be worried about you though. Now that he knows you’ve been through something similar, he would worry about you anytime it was brought up. Anytime anything remotely similar was brought up.

 “She told me what you said to her on the jet after your first case together.” Spencer falls into himself at the memory, his guilt pushing his shoulders down. “She said you still feel guilty about it. That hearing the things she has been through would push all that guilt back to the surface. More than anything, she wanted to protect you from more pain.” Hotch seems to know more than he’s saying, but Spencer is too shocked to profile him.

 “But, I, how would, but…” Spencer is muttering the beginning of every thought running through his head, but he can’t seem to form a complete sentence. “Why?”

 “You’ll have to ask her.”

 --

 Between your cognitive interview and Garcia’s sleuthing, the team find the unsub rather quickly. You stay at the station when the team goes to catch him. You try to protest, but Hotch, Morgan, and Emily stare you down until you concede. Really though, it was the concerned look from Spencer that convinced you to sit down and wait. The case wraps up quickly after that. The masked man ended up being Kyle Beckett. A classic sadist.

 It brings you more closure than you would have imagined to know he will be locked up for the rest of his life. You spent a lot of time in therapy trying to cope with the fact that he was never caught. And now, it’s over. You’re also extremely grateful you didn’t have to face him, although you would never admit that you were actually glad to stay behind. They can all tell though. They are profilers after all.

 You can’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu at all the stares you’re getting on the jet. It’s as if time itself was rewound to a year ago. You feel like the newbie again. Getting ready to have a heart to heart with Spencer. You’d be blind not to notice the parallels of the two situations when Spencer slides into the seat next to you on the jet after everyone else falls asleep.

 The silence is comforting at first, but quickly becomes unbearable.

 “Hi” You have a sleepy smile on your face when you say it. You are unbelievably exhausted after everything that happened. Too tired to fully conceal the emotions you know you have been denying. You’re always happy when you talk to him, even if the occurrences are a bit far and few between compared to other members of the team. “You look sad.”

 His mouth actually twitches upward at that statement, which you count as a win in your book. “You’ve been through hell on this case, and you’re still worried about me.” You can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s too good at hiding his thoughts inside that big beautiful brain.

 “I’ve always worried about you. Ever since I met you. You just looked so sad and I wanted to make it stop.” You aren’t thinking before you speak anymore. Probably why Spencer suddenly looks so surprised.

 “Is that why you didn’t want to tell me?” Now it’s your turn to look confused. How did he know that? “I may have talked to Hotch earlier…” It takes longer than you’d care to admit for you to understand what exactly Hotch told him. But still, you’re too tired to be bothered.

 “I’m sorry if that was weird for you. It’s just, after we talked about it I thought maybe we could eventually be friends or something. I didn’t want you to be sad again. I know what it feels like to be sad. I also know what it feels like to be sad again when you realize someone else is sad for that same reason.” You must actually be exhausted because it feels like you’re talking in riddles. “Sorry, that doesn’t make sense. I just mean, I didn’t want you to feel bad about it again. I didn’t want you to feel more pain” You’ve started leaning toward him, about ready to pass out.

 “You’re incredible. You truly are amazing. I don’t think a day will go by where I don’t feel awful for what I said to you, but maybe with enough time I can make it up to you.”

 “I would like that.” You smile brightly as you look into his eyes. They seem sad still, but there is a brightness there that wasn’t there before.

 Spencer doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he lets you lay down in his lap as you drift off, the soothing feeling of his hands in your hair lulling you to sleep.

 You wake up as the jet touches down. The memories of your conversation with Spencer bring a smile to your face. He looks down smiling when you shift in his lap.

 “Thank you” You’re not surprised he still feels like he needs to thank you.

 “I would do anything for you Spencer Reid.” You get up to collect your belongings, turning back only when you realize he hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch.

 “Spence, let’s go.” Spence. He likes the sound of that. Maybe, just maybe the two of you will be okay. 

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

😡🤬ANGER MANAGEMENT (PART 1)🤬😡

Prompt: Y/N has the life she’s always dreamed of: a good house, a nice car, a fat paycheck, her dream job and some loving friends. Her life feels like a fairytale...but just like every fairytale she’s not safe from the villain, the problem with that? He’s not only an incredibly hot Scotsman but also a fucking pain in the ass!

@drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x Reader

Warnings: +18 smut, clit stimulation, angst, dirty talking, cursing, name calling,(possible part 2?Idk)

Notes: I think it’s time for me to face my biggest fear: Drew McIntyre! 😂 all jokes aside, I’ve lost count of how many one shots I have written and soon after deleted about this handsome hunk. There are so many good stories of him out there that I’ve always felt like mine were actually horse shit compared to those so I’ve never had the courage to make this Scottish wet dream an official brand of my writing, but I’m looking forward to achieve new accomplishments on my writing in 2021, so here goes nothing folks! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Oh Thank God! Just the woman I wanted to see”

I turned around to meet Becky Lynch, one of the few dear close friends I’ve made while working for the WWE as a massage therapist.

“Hey Becks! What’s up?”

“Y/N I need your help, I was doing some training with the guys when suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder and now I feel like I wanna cry”

“Oh Becky, c’mon let’s go to my office”

Once we got there I mentioned for her to sit on the massage table.

“So tell me exactly what you were doing”

“I was doing some regular weightlifting, then all of a sudden I felt this sharp pain stretch from my elbow to my shoulder”

“Ok, did you warmed up before hand?”

“Yes”

“Did you added the weights in progressively or were you in some sort of competition against Sheamus, Cesaro and McIntyre as to whom could perform a proper weightlifting faster?” I crooked my eyebrow

“Y/N! You know I would never do that” She tried to hide her shame for being caught

“Becky, I know you! I know how competitive you are and how competitive you GET when you train with Sheamus, Cesaro and the Scottish prick.”

“They started ok?! They said I was no match for them, so I had to make them swallow word by word” She said slightly angry

“Calm down” I chuckled “And I presume you won?”

“Of course I won! As if they stood a chance” She scoffed

I touched her shoulder and palmed the back of her upper arm til I reached her elbow

“And your prize for that my darling is” I looked into her eyes “Six muscular knots, probably some small damage to your elbow nerves resulting in a little trip to the physical therapists and shit ton of pain, congratulations! Are you happy now?”

“Oh no!” She whined “Y/N, please don’t send me to the physical therapists, they will eat my ass off and they’re gonna tell Hunter about this. Please Y/N, please tell me you can fix it?” She stared at me with begging eyes

“Becks” I sighed “I can undo the muscular knots but I ain’t no fairy godmother! If you have some sort of nerve damage that’s up to the physical therapists...there’s nothing I can do about that honey”

“Please Y/N give me some of the red magical relief juice you gave to Kofi” She pleads

“Red magical relief juice?” I asked confused

“Yes, Kofi said he had this horrible pain from an injury and you gave him this red magical relief juice that helped him better than any medicine! Please give that to me too!”

I laughed before answering

“Oh Kofi, Kofi... it’s not an juice, it’s a liquid... a toner. A home made medicine I learned with my grandma. Technically I’m not even allowed to use that, but I know it works, better than these crap versions of Vick’s Vapor Rub” I tossed a little small green package in the trash can.

“Can you give that to me?” She asked with her eyes full of hope

“Fine” I said and she smiles widely

“But, you have to promise me that you will stop with these stupid and senseless competitions! They could permanently damage your nerves you know?!”

“Ok I promise”

I took a small plastic bottle from the cabinet and filled up with some small amount of the toner and placed the bottle inside a small paper bag. I also gave her a little bit of my grandma’s famous ointment in a tiny tin can.

“Alright, so here’s what you’re gonna do: once you get to your hotel room, you’ll take a hot shower and before you put your clothes on, you’re gonna rub the toner from your neck to your elbow all over your shoulder and back upper arm” She nods and I proceed “Then right after you’re going to take a small amount of this ointment” I show her the little tin can “And rub it all over your shoulder, back upper arm and elbow. Right afterwards you get dress with a long sleeve shirt and go to bed. Remember that you cannot leave your skin exposed to the cold air of air conditioning, because if you do it will make your pain and damage way worse! Do you hear me?”

“Yes Ma’am”

“If in three to four days you still feel any sort of pain you’re gonna have to go to the physical therapists”

“Ok”

“Becky I’m serious”

“Okay Y/N I got it” She smiles softly

“Good, now please, don’t tell anyone about this” I shook the little bag “And tell Kofi to keep his mouth shut. I know he means well but I could get fired for this”

“My lips are sealed” She pressed her lips in a thin line

“Thank you” I chuckled “Now, go on and take 20 drops of this” I give her some Ibuprofen “And come back in 20 minutes”

“Why?” She asks confused

“Because we still have to undo those knots and it’s not gonna be the fun kind of pain my dear”

“Argh” She groans

One week later

I was finishing tidying up the massage table from the session I just had with Bayley when someone knocked on my office door

“Come on in”

“Hey Y/N” Seth Rollins said in a voice full of pain as he tried to walk towards me

“Seth are you ok? Jesus, you look like somebody just kicked your balls so hard that they went up to your throat! What happened?” I tried to hold back my laugh

“A long story involving Cesaro and Drew. Moral of the story is my back is fucked up, do you think you can help me?”

“Can you lay down here?” I patted the table

“I guess so” He made his way to it excruciatingly slow as I helped him to lay down

“Where’s the pain worst?”

“My lower back” I touched and he gasped in pain

“Do you think you could give me some of that red magical relief juice?” He whispered so only I could hear it.

Of course I wasn’t surprised about him knowing of the “magical relief juice” since he and Becky were together I figured she told him.

“Did Becky told you?”

“Only today, once she saw I was in a tremendous pain...When she was using it I pressed her to tell me who gave it to her but she didn’t wanted to say, she said it was her fairy godmother”

I couldn’t help but smile at Becky’s inside joke and loyalty. I truly love that girl.

“Sure thing Rollins, just please don’t-“

“I won’t tell anyone Y/N don’t worry! Your witchy recipe is safe with me” He chuckled “Ouch fuck, that hurts” He groaned

“Did you bring any jacket on with you?” I laugh

“Yeah Becky told me to”

“Ok, let’s get start it”

Forty minutes and a relaxed thankful Seth Rollins later. I was finishing washing my hands while Seth pulled the zipper of his jacked up. I could feel his eyes on me

“What is it Rollins?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“If the question is if I am a 450 year old witch then my answer is, you will never know” I whisper as I turn to face him with a smirk

He laughs before saying “Well I’m sure you are sweetheart” He winks playfully “But that’s not the question though unfortunately”

“What is it then?”

He looked at me with a sense of caution before asking

“Why do you hate Drew so much?”

“McIntyre? The Scottish prick? The shitty bearded version of Gastón from Beauty and The Beast?” I ask in disbelief

My hatred for Drew McIntyre goes way back to 5 years ago. To make a long story short he has being a pain in my ass every since I started working here. It all resumes to the bad flirting and endless fights. We’ve always fought at least 3 times a week for as long as I can remember. It’s like a weekly ritual for us, and our fights are always petty and ridiculous such as who will get in the elevator first or who will rent the last SUV car.

“Yeah...” He answers slightly embarrassed

“Well that’s simple, he’s an asshole! A smug fucker who thinks he’s the most beautiful man to ever walk the earth and that every woman alive must fall for him in all fours”

“Is there anything else beyond that?” He asks

“No! Of course not!” I lied. As if I could tell him about my deep sexual desire for the Scotsman

“Are you sure? I mean, you must agree with me that he is very beautiful” Seth answers

“I’m not saying he’s not. I have eyes, so trust me, I know he’s hot as fuck and a very handsome man but that doesn’t mean that every woman on this company wants him!” I scoffed

“Does the ‘every woman’ equals Y/N?”

“Why are you asking me this?” I asked aggressively

“Look, there’s no need for you to get all defensive ok? I’m your friend and I’m just asking this as a friend. I’m not coming for you by any means” He says with a soothing voice

“Sorry, it was just my automatic response”

“It’s okay sweetie”

“But Seth...why this question now?”

“Let’s just say that I may or may not have heard some backstage talk and I would like to know this from your own mouth instead of other people’s”

“Backstage talk? About what?” I ask angrily

His eyes widened “You know what? Let’s forget I ever men-“

“No no no Rollins you’ve started this now you will finish it!” Now I was really angry

“Fuck, I should’ve kept my mouth shut” He murmured

“But you didn’t! So spit it out”

“Ok...I’ve heard one of the girls say that the reason why you hate Drew so much is because you kinda have a hidden want for him to fuck you but since he’s ‘not interested’ you get pissed off” He whispered

“I WHAT??? WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT?”

“Y/N please keep your voice down! Somebody is gonna hear you”

“I COULD GIVE TWO FUCKS IF SOMEBODY CAN HEAR ME! Who’ve said that Seth?” I was boiling with rage

“Sweetie, I’m not gonna tell you who’ve said it because I know you will-“

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and whispered

“If you don’t tell me who’ve said that right now Rollins I swear to God on God in heaven that I will cut your balls off and shove them down your throat!”

He gulped

“Now who’ve said that?”

“Carmella” He whispered and I smiled letting go of his collar “Y/N please don’t do anything stupid!” He said as I removed my coat

“Don’t forget to rub the toner on your back once you’re out of the shower” I patted his shoulder and made my way to the door

“Y/N where are you going? Y/N please whatever you’re thinking about doing it, just don’t ok? She’s not worth it! Y/N PLEASE!”

But his screams were now faint as I make my way down the hallway to find the blond gossiper girl.

I finally find Carmella “talking”, to Sheamus in one of the hallways.

“Oi Y/N, how’s life treating ya lass?” Sheamus smiles widely at me, making his usual greeting. At any other day it would’ve made my afternoon happier to find that amazing Irish man, but not today! I was so furious that I ignored him and went directly to Carmella

“Would you mind telling me why the fuck are you not only minding my business but also spreading rumors about me and McIntyre?”

From where I stood I saw Sheamus visibly gulp

“Hey Y/N, what do ya say about we go to tha catering grab some coffee huh?” He said urgently pleading

“So? I’m waiting for an answer” I said to her fully ignoring what he just said

“Well Y/N, from woman to woman, I think we both can agree that it’s no rumor. It’s quite visible, to not say pathetic, the way you can’t deal with rejection my dear” She batted her lashes

“And what exactly are you implying?”

“The obvious Y/N! That you want Drew in between your legs but he doesn’t! I mean, let’s face it, he’s too much of a man for you anyways! It’s not like you can handle him, because we know you can’t” She measured me from head to toe making me feel very conscious about the difference between her slim toned body and my thick one full of curves.

I know that most of the men’s in this company usually date or even have one night stands with women who were body equivalent to their own - slender and beautifully toned - , but that doesn’t mean that they didn’t saw my own curvy beauty. Hell, I even got some dinner invitations from some of the guys! Cesaro, Baron Corbin, Finn Bálor and even Seth Rollins (before he got with Becky) were some of them.

“I bet that I received more dinner invitations in a week than you in a year” I scoffed

“But not from the man you want the most right darling?” She evilly grins and I see red! Pure rage in it’s rawest form took ahold of me and I jumped towards her neck but a pair of strong arms stopped me from attacking her.

“Wow, easy now lass” He said

HIM! The cause of all this gossiping with my name, I couldn’t get even more angry even if I tried.

“Let me go McIntyre!” I roar

“Uh, enjoy it while it lasts Y/N, it’s as far as you’ll ever get anyways” Carmella chuckles

I tried to wiggle out of his arms “What the fuck did you just said bitch? I’ll feed you your own teeth you fuck-“

I couldn’t finish my sentence thanks to Drew, who lifted me off from the floor and tossed me on his shoulder, taking me to back my office.

“What are you doing? Let me go! I’m gonna punch her stupid rat’s face!”

“No you won’t”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m preventing your ass from getting fired!” He answers

I tried to release myself from him, but who was I fooling? The man is a brick wall, I couldn’t let myself go not even if I tried hard!

Once we got into my office he locked the door, placing himself in front of it and released me.

“Don’t you never, EVER, dare to manhandle me like that again! Do you hear me?” I stare at him with my eyes full of rage

“You know Y/N, all that anger is not good for you...you could have a heart attack” He chuckled

I was so mad, that tears of anger rolled down my cheeks as I cut the small distance between us and begin to punch his torso, arms or whatever I could reach

“I HATE YOU! YOU’RE THE REASON WHY I AM NOW A FUCKING BACKSTAGE GOSSIP SUBJECT! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU’RE SO FULL OF YOURSELF AREN’T YOU HUH? SHITTY ASS GASTÓN!”

I was starting to loose my strength due to my ferocious attack, and I would be damned if I let him see that...

When suddenly everything changed, the air in the room thickened and I saw myself now pressed against the door with my hands forcefully pinned on top of my head.

“Aww, that was sweet princess” He smirks confidently

“What are you doing Drew? Let me go” I murmured

“Oh it’s Drew now huh? Why the sudden change love? What happened with ‘Scottish prick, asshole and Gastón’?” He cackled “What’s wrong princess? Not feeling so confident and in charge anymore are we?” He pouts

“You’re hurting me” I lied

“Nu uh, we both know that, that’s a lie. I know you Y/N, every inch of you so don’t you lie to me now! That’s not what pretty little girls like you do” He reprimanded me

I felt confused and slightly turned on by his whole dominant character. But still I felt the urge to fight back.

“And what do you know about me McIntyre? NOTHING! So don’t YOU dare to pretend that you do! You know nothing about who I am or my needs, so quit the act”

He laughed before saying “And that’s where you’re wrong princess” He towered over me, securing my wrists with one of his hands while the other grabbed my cheeks making my lips pout(like one would with a child) and tilted my head up to meet his blue gaze.

“You see Y/N, we’ve known each other for what? 5 years? I’ve done a lot of observing in those years... I became quite good at reading you” He leaned forward..his beard,lips and mustache brushing against my own lips

“So I know for a fact that what triggered you into fighting Carmella wasn’t what she said...But the fact that what she said is true” He searched my eyes for confirmation and when he found it he smirks in appreciation

A murmured ‘Fuck you’ came out of my lips the best way I could since he had this vicious grip on my cheeks.

“Oh Y/N, Y/N... what am I going to do with you princess?” He asks amused as he release my cheeks “I must say though... I agree with almost everything Carmella said” He vaguely added

Pure humiliation filled me, the thought of him knowing that deep down I had a thing for him which wasn’t reciprocal at all made my stomach turn. I felt the tears of humiliation start to rise to my eyes, but I wouldn’t give him the pleasure to see that he had broken me. Instead I reached for the safety of the one thing I knew I could do: fight!

“You let me go right now you fucker or I swear you will regret it!” I said as threatening as I could

“Oh my, won’t you look at that? Kitty has claws huh?” He chuckled lightly

I took advantage of his distraction and yanked my arms as fast as I could out of his grip. The action caught him by surprise, giving me the upper hand to turn around to unlock the door so I could leave. But his surprise didn’t last long as for he saw what I was about to do and pressed me against the door once more, instead now my back was the one facing him so he pressed his semi hard bulge up against my ass with my hands and face now pressed on the wooden door.

“Where do you think you are going princess? We’re not done talking just yet” He whispers in my ear, making my whole body shiver.

“As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me” His lips were glued to my ear “I almost, I said almost, agree with everything that she said..except for one thing”

“If you’re gonna say that-“

“Maybe I’ll have to buy you a ball gag, since you don’t seem to ever know when to shut up...or maybe I should choke you instead,what do you say?”

I gulped loudly

“Or even better, I should fuck your mouth..bury my cock so deep on your throat that you will have no other option but drool all over yourself” He pressed his bulge harder against my ass “, that will make you shut up! I can already imagine how gorgeous you will look with my cock shoved down your throat” He moaned “Would you like that princess? Would you like for me to show you where’s your place? Where you really belong?” He grinds his erection on my ass and the feeling makes me moan softly

“Drew...” I pleaded

“The only thing I don’t agree with Carmella” He continues his previous statement ignoring my plea “Is that I’m too much of a man for you. To be honest I think you’re the only woman in this company who can actually handle me! The only one who will love and beg to be fucked faster and rougher..” His hands let go of my wrists and roam down to cup my breasts roughly, pulling me even closer to his body

“The only one who is the perfect fit for me...who will let me use every single hole as I please” He bites my ear making me gasp for more air.

“Won’t you Y/N? Do you want me to use you like the good little whore that you are?”

My head was buzzing with excitement, I could feel the now very wet pool of desire in between my legs. To think that all of my darkest fantasies with this man were about to come true made me moan a faint ‘Yes’ to him

He grunts at my positive response while one of his big hands unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans so his hand could sink down the fabric to find my very wet core.

“Hmmm I’ve been waiting 5 years for this lass...Fuck, you already feel amazing on my hand I can’t wait to feel this pretty little pussy around my cock” He growls

“Fuck Drew, please” I whisper

“It’s Sir to you, my good little pet” He smirked “Now tell me, do you think I should fuck you right here, right now so that everyone in this company can hear me make you my fuck toy or should we head back to the hotel? What do you say pet?” He asks as his fingers firmly circles my clit making my legs shake

“W- Whatever pleases you Sir” I stuttered

“I see you’re a quick learner huh?” He chuckles amused “I say, let’s show this roster who is the only woman who can properly handle me” He says as he removed his fingers from my core and licked them clean while staring at me. I softly moan to that scene and he smiles deviously before whispering

“Strip now pet and show what a beautiful fuck toy you are for Sir”

To be continued...

Please let me know if you would like to see a part 2 🥺?