#we’re going in a whole new direction today!

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

Let’s try this another way — we’re moving away from Miles and Hobie for just one second! (>.<) a whole new direction, just for a moment!

@hobiesgender @royallydivinelesbian

Masterlist

Pavitr entered the castle to find it in a state of chaos.

He’d managed to sneak away from his own home for the day and head over to the castle, mostly in the hopes of being able to see Miles before the prince was taken back into the whirlwind social life he had all of a sudden; Pavitr wasn’t necessarily jealous of the amount of time Miles had been spending with everyone else lately, all the people who were over at the castle to vie for his hand, but he still missed his friend. A lot.

And he was planning on making up for that by hanging with Miles before he had to leave for breakfast with everyone. Pavitr knew he’d see him in the meeting later on today, but it felt like the meeting was the only time he got to really see him, and they didn’t even get to talk to each other there! It didn’t count!

So, yes, he came into the castle early, only to find that everyone was already up and running around. He had to duck out of the way of several guards, Miguel and Jess barking orders loud enough that they could be heard down the hallways. Miles’s parents were sitting in the sitting room as he passed it, Jeff looking more than slightly stressed and Río with her head in her hands. Pavitr paused on his way to Miles’s room, staring at them outright even though he knew it was rude, and debating on whether or not he should go in to announce himself.

The decision was made for him.

“Pavitr!” Jeff said loudly, and Río lifted her head quickly; she turned it to see him so fast that he imagined he could hear the snap her neck could’ve made, and winced in sympathy for it. He blinked at them for a second with wide eyes, then decided to go with fate and bowed to the both of them.

“My king!” He started, lifting from the bow easily. “My queen. Good morning.”

“Have you seen Miles?” Río asked, disregarding Pavitr’s uncertain greeting. Pavitr paused for another second, frowning as the words processed in his mind but still didn’t seem to make any sort of sense. He looked them over again, noting how they’d not even been given a chance to dress fully, and the stress that lined their faces. Pavitr almost didn’t want to answer them, knowing his response wasn’t going to help anything at all, but —

“I have not, no.” He said gently, clasping his hands together in front of him. “Last time I saw him was several days ago, he was with Billy and Tommy, I think? Out in the courtyard.”

“Miguel has footage of Miles exiting the palace late last night, going into the courtyard.” Jeff said, as Río put her face in her hands once again. She was muttering under her breath in what sounded like Spanish, and Pavitr found that he wasn’t envying Miles the repercussions of whatever was happening right now. “But not of him coming back. The guards at night didn’t hear anything. We don’t know what happened to him.”

“He couldn’t leave, though, right?” Pavitr said slowly, rubbing at the bottom of his mouth while he thought out loud. “Not on his own, at least — the castle walls are surely too high for that.”

“And why would he even want to leave?” Río asked loudly, pulling her face away from her hands. It was dry, though her eyes were rimmed with red, and she gestured almost violently. “He’s never been outside the castle walls before, never even mentioned wanting to see the city — where would he even go?”

“And everyone is accounted for here?” Pavitr asked, stepping quickly into the room when Jeff gestured for him to come in.

“Everyone else was in their rooms.” He confirmed, “and nobody left them at all during the night. The only footage is of Miles, sneaking around the hallways at night and going out into the courtyard.”

“What about the cameras there?” Pavitr asked, “I know there’s some around the walls, by the entrance…they didn’t catch anyone coming in or out? Or Miles?”

“Cameras are down for maintenance right now.” Río said pointedly, which made Jeff sigh heavily and rub his temples. “Which means that almost the entire area is a blind spot right now. Cameras just outside the door work, which is how we know he went out and never came back in, but we can’t see anything other than that.”

“I didn’t expect to have to account for a runaway son.” He said tiredly, “he’s never done anything like this before. He’s never said anything about this to you, Pavitr?”

“I haven’t had the time to talk with Miles lately.” He admitted, “but if I know one thing, it’s that Miles wouldn’t just up and leave without saying anything. He’s never mentioned going to the city before all this happen, not to me.”

“Which means our only option is that he was taken.” Jeff said firmly. “We’ll send everyone home, after” he raised his voice when Río protested, “after we search thoroughly. The people they’ve brought, anything large enough to potentially hold a person, their rooms. Thorough sweep of everything, and then they get escorted out to the gates and sent home.” He sat back in his chair, looking tired already if the amount of work ahead of them. “After that, no one in or out until we find Miles and get him home safe.”

“But…” Pavitr frowned at that, thinking of the kingdom and how isolating it would affect the people. He wanted Miles back home safe and sound, of course he did, but — “forgive me, your highness, but the people — ”

“I understand your concern.” Jeff said, “but we should be able to find him quickly without disrupting daily life of the kingdom too much.” Pavitr opened his mouth to argue, but the king looked like his mind was made up. He stood, brushing off the bottom of his shirt as he did so and bowed before the two of them again.

“As my king commands.” Pavitr said before swiftly turning on his heel and heading out of the room. Miguel and Jess were still barking orders, and now everyone was coming out of their rooms; they looked sleepy and confused, though some of those confused looks were giving way to anger with the way guards stopped at their doors as they opened.

He just hoped they found Miles soon, before causing an incident with the neighboring kingdoms. And before there’s any kind of unrest in their own kingdom.

[makeitmakesomesense]

The Competition

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Day 8: I've merged a lovely request from a lovely friend with the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 8th of January, which is 'daylight'.

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There is no point trying to be second best. 

You’ve lived by that motto your whole life. You know it’s served you well because your life has been going exactly like you hoped. You’ve been recruited into the latest Shield training class. 

This is just another opportunity for you to excel in. You don’t let yourself consider another option. You stand in the training room with the other agents, waiting for your first lesson to start. You can’t help sizing up the others. You watch their movements and try to assess their fitness, their likely agility. You listen to their conversations and try to assess their intelligence too. 

You are smarter. You are fitter. You are faster. You stretch your arms in anticipation. Someone will be the best recruit and it will be you. 

A final trainee enters. 

You try to figure her out immediately. Her eyes are roaming the room, not quite nervous but not confident either. She’s not that tall. Her red hair is tied back in perfect dutch braids. It makes her look like a child.

You dismiss her readily. Your focus returns to another recruit, whose muscles are flexing obviously with the smallest movement. You bite your lip trying to determine if their muscle density will affect their agility. 

Your eyes glance briefly back to the new girl. She is staring at the same recruit. Her fingers tap thoughtfully against her thigh. 

She is the only one other than you not engaging in small talk. Instead, her gaze scans the sea of people, just like you.

You take another more considered look at her. She’s fit, much more than you’d noticed at first. The kind of fitness that’s built for agility as much as strength. 

Her eyes turn to you. The sudden, sharp green stare makes you certain that she’s intelligent too. You can feel her reading you, as her eyes shamelessly roam over your body.

After a moment, the girl’s lips draw back over her teeth and she smiles. There’s a feral confidence to it. It puts you on edge. You smirk back and pretend not to be intimidated.

The trainer enters at last and the group of recruits become eager and pathetic in front of a clear leader. You hang back, listening quietly. You make sure to keep the other girl in your sights. 

The trainer asks you all to introduce yourselves. 

‘First names for now.’ She directs with a smile. ‘We’re not agents yet.’

The girl is called Natasha R. 

There are two Natashas in this group of recruits. You almost feel bad for Natasha M. You can already predict that she will be known as ‘the other Natasha’ after today.

The trainer begins with a speech about comradery, about finding your people. You watch Natasha’s expression shift to boredom. She taps impatiently against her thigh. You try not to smirk obviously. 

The trainer suggests that everyone partners up. You’ve all had basic sparring training before today. This is a chance to see how you compare to your peers. 

Your eyes meet Natasha’s before the trainer has finished speaking. She flashes the feral smile back at you. Adrenaline begins to flood your body as you move to the nearest training mat and try to ready yourself.

Natasha slams you against the mat before you’ve had time to think about reacting. The air is thrown from your chest. You try not to look as disoriented as you feel, as you roll back to your feet. 

‘Excellent work, Natasha’ The trainer shouts from the other side of the room. You watch Natasha M. look up hopefully, before her face caves with disappointment. You let yourself prickle with the indignity of being second best. 

You huff a breath and ready yourself for another sparring round. You are back on the floor before you’ve had a chance to blink.

.

Natasha slams you against the training mat for the thousandth time. 

You glare at her, chest heaving desperately. Your face is sticky with heat and sweat. Natasha grins smugly. Her dutch braids are still perfect. She doesn’t offer you a hand up.

You hate her. You actually loathe her. 

You are seething with bitter fury by the time you get to the cafeteria. You stand in the line for lunch food thinking about the first person to ever stand between you and being the best at something. You try to recall each brief moment before she knocked you to the ground. You try to assess her fighting style. What you could have done differently. 

You lift your plastic tray and walk to the communal table that is almost entirely populated by the other recruits from your class. You sit at one end and take an angry bite of your apple.

Natasha is sitting at the other end. She’s surrounded by the eager recruits. They’re asking her questions, unphased by her cool tone and indirect answers. It’s pathetic. You crunch your apple again. They always cling to a new leader. Natasha’s calm gaze meets yours. She smirks and you know she can tell that you’re jealous. You clench your jaw and glare angrily back. You hope she can hear the Fuck You echoing in your mind. 

The amusement in her eyes tells you that she can. 

.

You spend a month getting your ass kicked. 

That isn’t strictly true. 

You are excelling in some areas.

Noone is more loyal to the fitness regime. Noone is more committed to learning how to fight better. Noone is putting more time in at weapons practice. 

You are doing very well at trying hard.

Natasha is barely trying and she is easily better than you. She makes the class look like complete amateurs.

You do the only thing you know how to do; you try harder. 

What stings more than the rest, is the special treatment that Natasha seems to get. 

The first time you see her and Hawkeye interact, you don’t actually believe your own eyes. She’s a new recruit. Agent Barton is calling her ‘Tasha!’ and giving her a half hug as he walks past your table with his own tray of food. 

Natasha M. looks so despondent when she hears the nickname that you wonder if she’s going to drop out soon.

Natasha only rolls her eyes and makes a biting comment about his choice of lunchtime food. The other recruits tense up for a moment until Agent Barton’s barking laugh catches them all off guard again. 

You watch Natasha from your usual place at the far end of the table. It is the first time you have ever seen her uncertain. 

You decide she is probably dating Agent Barton. It must be a secret they’re trying to keep. He’s not a direct superior so there’s nothing officially wrong with it. It just doesn’t look good. Not for a new recruit. 

Natasha tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes glance back over to Agent Barton’s table on the other side of the room. 

You pretend you don’t feel jealous.

.

In the earliest hours of the morning, you go to the gym. 

You do this sometimes, it’s a good time to know you’ll be alone. To put in some earphones and forget everything except your heart pounding and your limbs aching. 

You are not alone. 

Natasha is already in the large room. She’s wearing a black sports bra and shorts. She is running like a gazelle on a treadmill, her back is to you.

You let the heavy door slam itself shut, just to watch her flinch. 

She switches the machine off as she turns around, her glare already fixed in place. 

Your chest seizes when you realise that she has obviously been crying. You stare at her stupidly. 

‘What do you want?’ Natasha spits through clenched teeth. Her cheeks are flushed red. You can’t tell if it’s the exertion or something else. 

You feel like you’ve caught an apex predator in a moment of weakness. You can tell she feels cornered, vulnerable. The urge to win tempers into something different. You don’t want to see Natasha’s weakness, you just want to be better than her best. 

‘I bet I can run faster than you.’ You gloat loudly and begin to walk towards her. 

Natasha’s expression shutters with sharp relief, then she gives you her most savage smile. She nods to the treadmill beside her.

You have never run faster or farther. You will not let yourself lose this race. You have been training too hard. By the time the first rays of daylight are streaming into the room, you are still neck and neck with Natasha. 

She is the first to quit. She switches off her machine without a word and turns to leave. She gives you the middle finger as you breathlessly huff a victorious laugh.

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That day, on the training mats, you sense Natasha moving more obviously as you begin to spar. She wins every time, of course. But later, when you stand in the line for the cafeteria, you realise that you have begun to understand her fighting technique. 

They have run out of apples today in the cafeteria and you barely notice, too lost in your own thoughts.

You sit down at your usual end of the table. Your gaze snaps up when someone whistles. 

Natasha’s smirk is tiny. Everything about her seems playful. She takes an extra apple from her tray and throws it gracefully. You feel the eyes of the other recruits follow its arcing trajectory, right into your hands.

After weapons training that afternoon, Natasha catches your arm in the hallway. 

‘Do you spend every night running your ass off, just to keep up with me?’ She teases snarkily.

You roll your eyes, hating the way you have started to like her. 

‘No. Not every night.’ You answer deadpan.

‘Good, so you’ll be free tonight.’ Natasha says simply. She tells you the number of her room. Then, she gives you a pleased smile. With her perfect braids, she becomes the picture of innocence. 

‘Those braids make you look like a child.’ You snap at her, pulling your arm out of her hold. 

You hear her laugh behind you and smile to yourself. 

.

You arrive at her door that night. You knock twice before the door swings open. 

Natasha is not the girl you have known before. 

Her loose red hair holds the obvious kinks from her recent braids. She looks tired, the simple fatigue of surviving a busy day on very little sleep. She’s wearing an oversized tourist t-shirt that you presume is covering shorts. 

‘Wow.’ You tell her bitingly. ‘You look like shit.’

Natasha laughs loudly and lets you in. 

She offers you a beer and you take it as you sit on the edge of her bed. She sits beside you, clinks her bottle with yours and takes an absentminded swig. You marvel silently as you realise that she is still drinking alcohol regularly and outperforming all of you so easily. 

Her shoulder bumps yours uncaringly as she brings one leg up to her chest and casually hugs her knee. Your eyes skim the perfectly toned muscles without meaning to. Natasha’s gaze flicks to you and she smirks knowingly.

‘Keep it together.’ She chastises teasingly. You grin back. 

‘I will.’ You promise readily. ‘I’m here to find out all your secrets.’

Natasha’s mouth presses together and for a moment she looks deadly serious. Then she raises her eyebrow and grins back. 

‘What do you want to know?’

She tells you a lot of things. Raised in a competitive household, with no allowance for failure. She talks about sisters, plural. She’d always naturally excelled but she also never stopped pushing herself. Her words skim lightly over concepts like discipline and punishment. You understand the implication.

You don’t feel pity, only respect. She did everything to be the best. 

You tell her the words that you’ve lived by since childhood.

There is no point trying to be second best. 

Natasha’s sudden gaze burns with the recognition that you might really understand what she means.

‘Exactly.’ She breathes, and then she laughs again. She looks down and her fingers brush over your forever-calloused knuckles. 

‘Exactly.’ She whispers again. 

.

After that, the world is hung on a different axis. 

You are the final convert to the Natasha fan club. You think you might be the only member she cares about. The competitive edge is always there between you, but now it’s decidedly friendly. Every smile between you is playful. Every sharp comment is teasing. 

You go back to her room again a few nights later. 

She tells you a little about Clint, nothing more than a friend of a friend who’d recommended her to the Shield training programme. But mainly, she asks a lot about you. You find yourself admitting things you’ve never said aloud before.

When the night ends, she leans forward and kisses your cheek. She plays it like it’s a natural end to the night and you don’t let yourself react. Not until you’re back in your own room, touching your warm cheek and wondering if it could mean the things you have begun to hope for.

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There is an inevitable rule about trying to keep a secret in an espionage organization. Either no-one knows or everyone does.

Natasha M is the one who tells you. She has that red flush on her cheeks that reveals how pleased she is with her secret. She whispers it excitedly to a group of you as you make your way to the training room.

‘Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow. Mysterious and Lethal Assassin. Product of the Red Room. Missing, Presumed Dead.’

She pauses as she hammers home her point. 

‘It’s her.’

Your world implodes.

You stand in the training room with the rest of the recruits. Your skin is prickling with a feeling that you don’t recognise. A betrayal unlike anything you could have imagined. The others are nervous and chattering. You can feel them looking in anticipation at you. Natasha’s undeniable favourite. 

Some of them clearly thought you might have known her secret. They don’t anymore.

Natasha walks into the training room. She is flanked on her left by Agent Barton.

You realise that he is not an old friend. He is the agent that captured her. 

You feel a sudden rage like you have never felt before.

You pull away from the crowd, ready for a fight that you know you can’t win. 

You start spitting insults before you reach her. You call her a traitor and a liar. You only feel angrier when you watch her purposefully neutral gaze brush over you.  

You rush forward and are stopped by Agent Barton’s arm as it catches you by the waist and pulls you resolutely towards the door.

‘Don’t do this.’ He warns quietly as you shout things you never thought you’d say. ‘We’re her family.’

‘Oh please.’ You yell back, hurling your final words at Natasha, as you fight his grip. ‘She has a family. She’s a widow.’

.

You are excused from training. Agent Barton leaves you in disgust, sitting in an empty classroom where they occasionally teach the theory behind different fighting styles.

.

You go to the cafeteria at the usual time and take your usual tray over to your usual group. They welcome you with a support that you’ve never felt before. You realise suddenly that your enraged episode earlier has only impressed the other recruits.

You don’t need to guess who is missing from the table, you follow their pointed glares easily. Natasha sits alone at another table. Her face is perfectly neutral. She crunches on an apple. Your jaw tightens.

You take a seat with the usual group and try not to think about the way your gut is twisting. The other recruits tell you all the latest rumours. About what the Red Room does to create their monsters. The famous crimes against Shield operatives committed by the Black Widow. A haphazard list of her likely kills that is growing by the hour. 

You think about their stories. You think about the things Natasha told you that first night in her room. Competition, discipline, punishment. 

Agent Barton’s words about family get caught in your head. 

Natasha stands and leaves the cafeteria. She doesn’t falter at the muttered insults that she must be able to hear. Her face is schooled into a perfect facade of calm. At last, her eyes meet yours, and you see the smallest crack.

You push away the tray with your half-eaten meal. 

A person beside you snickers and you catch the end of a snide comment. You grip the edge of the plastic tray and feel a familiar anger inside you. You look around the table. Natasha M smiles eagerly back. She leans forward with another joke to share. 

You push away from the table and get to your feet. They are eager and they are pathetic. You don’t want to be their next  leader.  

.

You knock once on Natasha’s door. She doesn’t open it. 

You knock again. There is only silence.

You go to the gym.

She’s there, of course, running so fast that her legs are blurred. You wonder if they’ve checked her speed against the land mammal record.

You let the heavy door slam behind you, just so she’ll know you’re there.

Natasha turns off the treadmill and comes to a stop. She doesn’t turn around. You can tell that she knows it’s you. 

You walk over and watch the tension rolling out of her. She is gripping the bar on the treadmill. You look at her knuckles, calloused from a lifetime of effort. 

You are just like her. 

Her shoulders curve as she leans forward, crying silently. 

Your jaw tightens. 

You hate seeing Natasha’s weakness. You cannot tolerate a world where she is not the best. 

Carefully, you reach out and press your hand to her back. You can feel the bumps of her spine against your palm. Her chest heaves with silent sobs. 

Wordlessly, Natasha turns around. She buries herself against your front. You hug her tightly. You can feel her crying harder. Unthinkingly, your fingers trace her perfect braids.

You lead her back to her room when she is no longer crying. Your tight hold of her hand leaves no room for misunderstanding. 

She sits stiffly on her bed and you bring her over a glass of water. She takes it and sips quietly. You can see the hesitation in her side glances.

There is something unfixable now. Some part of the illusion that is gone forever. 

You reach over to Natasha and undo the ends of her braids. Slowly, you unwind them until you can run your fingers easily through her wavy hair. Your fingertips brush her skin and you hear her sigh. 

You move her hair to the side and press a kiss to her bare shoulder. 

You feel the shudder run through her at the touch of your lips. 

She takes your hand and slowly directs it to her breast. You squeeze it automatically and Natasha moans. The glass of water moves to a side table and Natasha’s hand comes to cover your own. She squeezes her own breast harder and then moans louder. 

You smirk as you realise you will have to work harder if you want to be as good as her.

You kiss along her neck, your teeth nipping at her soft skin. Natasha’s hips shift needily on top of the bed and your breath catches. 

Natasha hesitates then. You hear her take a deep breath. Her thumb brushes your calloused knuckles. She doesn’t look at you.

‘Even now?’ She breathes at last.

You close your eyes. Her back is pressing against you. You can smell the sweat on her skin. She is warmth and you are wrapped around her. 

‘There was never any competition.’ You tell her with your lips on her skin.

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Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3

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[irisintheafterglow]

if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom

summary: the strawhats are summoned back to baratie so sanji can cook for a high-class diner. they can't figure out why zoro is so nervous. (opla!zoro x you)

wc: 2k

cw/tags: swearing, mentions of food and eating, established relationship, pet names (sweetheart, doll, lover, pretty), spoilers if you squint, sanji being himself and zoro having absolutely none of it

note: this was requested by an anon a few weeks ago and i finally got around to writing it!! every time i write for zoro, i have a new favorite fic i've made because he's just so fun to write for. hope you enjoy!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“You know, they’re a lot hotter in person.”

“Shut your mouth, waiter, or I’ll skewer it closed,” he mutters with palpable distaste. Another swig of rum burns down his throat and, for the first time that the crew can remember, Zoro seemed nervous. It wasn’t obvious, but they’d sailed long enough to know that he never stopped surveying a room for threats, no matter how familiar he was with it. Today, though, the only thing that took his attention was the rim of his glass and he was subtly avoiding the eyes of the crew’s target. “This is the dumbest idea you’ve had in a long time.” 

“Thank you for your input, Zoro. I will, however, be belaying it,” his captain replies brightly, unfazed by the blank expression of his first mate. The uneasy faces of his crew only makes him beam more, giddily excited for the anticipated challenge. “C’mon, guys. We’ll be fine. They just need to see how awesome we are and they’ll totally give us a new sail!”

“Loud, loud, too loud,” Zoro warns in response to the increasing volume of Luffy’s voice. They were already causing enough of a scene, as is, and he damn sure didn’t want other guests looking in their direction. To make matters worse, the amount of alcohol in the table’s bottle was dwindling too quickly for comfort. 

“Hey, if we’re lucky,” Usopp offers, “we might just get a whole ship. You know, maybe one that Captain Usopp can command as the second ship in the Straw Hat fleet.”

“You think we’ll get a whole fleet?”

“Hell yeah. Maybe, we can all captain our own ships–”

“Alright, let’s get our heads out of the clouds,” Nami cuts in. “We still need to figure out how we’re going to get over there, in the first place. And just for the record, I’m with Zoro on this one.” 

“First time for everything,” he deadpans. She smartly elects to ignore his sarcasm and continues to argue why the plan is a bad idea. The call from Zeff came at an opportune time and during an unfortunate situation when the Merry sailed straight into a torrential thunderstorm that ripped the main sail clean down the middle. Despite their best efforts to patch it up, it was beyond repair; with the Marines constantly on their tail, having a working sail was a matter of survival. Zeff’s reluctant summons for Sanji to cook for a special guest provided a means to buy a new sail and have a little extra spending money. But, in his wildest dreams, Zoro could not have predicted that the special guest was you. The smug look on the chef’s face snaps him out of his thoughts. “Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen, waiter?”

“Shouldn’t you be downing the rest of this bottle, drunk?”

“I’ll smash this damn bottle on your head, I swear–”

“No, no. Zoro has a point,” Luffy agrees. Sanji gives him an odd look and he quickly realizes what his statement insinuated. “Not about smashing the bottle on your head. We need you to bring them your food so then I can go over and talk with them.”

“You don’t think I can charm them on my own?” 

“Don’t look so aghast, blondie,” Zoro answers and receives a knife-sharp glare in response. “This is not someone who will entertain your theatrics.”

“How would you know anything about them, hmm? I believe you’re a little too dead inside for their liking,” Sanji baits and Zoro’s on the verge of biting before Nami steps in again. 

“Sanji, get in the kitchen. Let’s just get the money and get out of here.” Zoro silently thanks her in his head for effectively ridding the chef of the table for the time being. His gratitude turns into a grimace when she turns to him expectantly. “You’re gonna hate me for asking–”

“Then don’t ask,” he finishes. She doesn’t relent. 

“How do you know them? It seems like you’re nervous about being here, but we’ve never met them before as a crew.” Hitting the damn nail on the head. “So, you must’ve met them when you were still hunting down pirates. Am I right?” He grumbles an unreadable response, but the slightly pink shade of his face tells the table everything they need to know. “You’re terrible at covering up secrets.”

“I don’t remember asking.”

“Ah, you’ve got him on the run, now. He’s deflecting,” Usopp chuckles, immediately shutting up when Zoro shoots him a deadly scowl. He hated that all of them were right and would never admit it to save his life. After all this time, seeing you still made his heart rate skyrocket and cause his hands to clam up with boyish nervousness. You were just as beautiful as the last time he saw you, instances that were too few and far between for his own liking. Your father would have a fit if he saw you in such an unregulated environment as Baratie, but he knew that you were safe. As long as you breathed the same oxygen, he vowed no harm would come to you. 

“I met them when I first started hunting,” he admits and the words felt wrong on his tongue. Every nerve in his body was telling him to stop revealing his relationship to you. It didn’t matter if he’d almost died surrounded by his crew; his connection to you was sacred and something he was going to take to his grave. It was mostly for your safety, the late-night sneaking out and stolen displays of affection. In another life, he wouldn’t have to hide you from other hunters that wanted to see him fall. “Their father is a captain in the Marines. When I first met them, they were training with Mihawk. Their father wanted them to be the most feared Marine in the seas.” The jaws of his friends fell to the table and he knew how wild it sounded, a legacy Marine trained by a pirate lord. “But, Mihawk taught them more tricks than just swordfighting and their father fired him on the spot.”

“He taught them sympathy for pirates,” Nami concludes and he nods. “Why are you so shifty around them?” He shrugs half-heartedly and tries to make it look like his face wasn’t on fire.

“Just haven’t seen them in a while,” he states, zeroing in on the blonde asshole waltzing to you with a plate. Your surrounding guards stiffen, hands flying to the weapons at their belts. You, however, roll your eyes and tell them to stand down. He knew you hated going out with security because they were always watching, watching, watching. “Eyes up. The waiter’s making a move.” 

A strange sense of nausea washes over him as he watches you smile politely at Sanji, laughing softly at his jokes and kindly nodding as he explains the dish to you. You trust them, Zoro keeps telling himself. That waiter doesn’t stand a fucking chance. All the reassurances don’t stop his gut from churning when Sanji does his signature lean-down-and-whisper-suggestively into your ear. To his surprise, however, you don’t immediately meet the chef’s eyes. Your attention flicks to Zoro, instead, with a look that he knows all too well. 

Please get me out of this. 

Despite the protests of the table, he’s standing in an instant and walking with his hands on his swords like your guards didn’t even exist. His sight becomes tunnel-vision on nothing but you and he bypasses your guards with ease. Your shoulders relax when he stations himself protectively behind you, much to the confusion of the chef in front of you. As subtle as he can, he rests his hand on the back of your chair, inching closer until he’s just barely touching your shoulder. It’s small, but speaks wonders for his presence. 

“Zoro,” you murmur without looking up, your fingertips brushing against his knuckles. Your touch on his skin after so much time away feels electric.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Sanji stiffens at the term of endearment so easily leaving Zoro’s mouth and you can sense the boost it does for his ego. “Whatcha got there?”

“My new friend was just telling me about the dish he made. He said he crafted it especially for me, with his own hands,” you inform him with a sly sparkle in your eye. His jaw clenches unconsciously. You knew exactly what was going on in Zoro’s mind and he knew it, too. “Apparently, he can work wonders with his hands,” you remark casually and you can hear the chair crack under the force of the swordsman’s hand gripping it. To your delight, Sanji’s face has also taken on a slightly darker shade of red at how crassly you echo his suggestion. And in front of his rival, no less.

“Was he, now?” His tone is lethal and it sends goosebumps up your arms. “Well, it best be time for him to get back in the kitchen, no?”

“Mmm, but he said he had a proposal for me–”

“I had one for you too, though I did ask you in a much finer establishment than this one.” You can’t help the smirk that spreads on your face and you have to look to the side to keep from laughing aloud. Zoro’s jealousy was rearing a very indignant head; you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it a little hot. “Got that stone on your left hand to prove it.” Sanji’s eyes darted to the band wrapped around your finger, a ring that looked suspiciously like the one hanging from a chain around Zoro’s neck. “Give us some time alone, yeah?” His question becomes rhetorical as he pulls out a chair next to you and tugs your seat closer until you can cross your leg across his. His palm rests possessively over your thigh and the chef gapes for a few moments more before turning back to the kitchen. 

“That goes for all of you, please,” you order your guards without looking at them, absentmindedly tracing Zoro’s jawline with the back of your pointer finger. “Take my bag and buy however many drinks you want. I’m safe,” you state with absolute certainty. Once they’re gone, all you see, feel, and know is him.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you smile just as softly. “What’re you doing in a place like this?”

“I can ask you the same question, pretty.” His eyes shine with nothing but adoration. You forgot just how much you missed him.

“Took a detour to prolong my time at sea. I didn’t want to go home just yet.”

“Your old man’s being an ass again?”

“You know how he is,” you reply. “Why are you here?”

“Believe it or not, that blonde shithead is my crewmate. We’re here to get some extra Berry for a new sail.”

“Sail, hmm? I always knew you had a little pirate in you,” you tease and he sticks his tongue out immaturely. “Heard you fought my esteemed mentor. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking.”

“You don’t think I can beat him?”

“I don’t think I can fathom what will happen if you don’t,” you say quietly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “Don’t do any dumb shit, okay?”

“You’re acting as if I’m already leaving you again.” 

“Aren’t you?” Your smile is sad and it makes his chest ache. When he beat Mihawk and killed your bastard father, he was going to give you the life that you deserved. 

“Not yet,” he promises. “I don’t wanna go yet.”

“I don’t want you to go, either. How much do you need for that sail?” He gives you a number and you don’t even blink. You just nod and reach into your coin purse, fishing around and deciding to just give him the entire pouch. “Will that cover it?”

“Doll–”

“It’s a yes or no question, husband,” you say with lighthearted sternness. He shakes his head in exasperation but can’t hide the grin painting his features. 

“Yes, lover. It’s more than enough.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you hum in contentment. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Of course. D’you mind introducing me to the rest of your crew besides the flirty waiter?”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[sweetdispatch]

I'm in power today - L. Hughes

pairing: Luke Hughes x girlfriend!reader

summary: Luke agrees to be dominated by his girlfriend in bed

warning: NSFW, graphic sex (+18), sub!Luke, bondage

words: 1.3k

note: based on this request! it was a new thing for me f to make the male figure as a sub so forgive me if it's bad haha

masterlist

---

Since the beginning of your relationship with Luke, he was dominant towards you. It came out naturally between you too and you never saw a problem in this. For you, it was adorable that he felt the need to take care of you and keep you in place. All of your friends were surprised at your change because in the past, you were out of control, many times acting narcissistic towards others. With Luke by your side, you calmed down and did everything not to push him to the limits. 

His dominant side was especially visible in your sex life. Luke always had to be on top of you. On rare occasions, he was letting you ride him but still, he was the one to set the pace. You loved that he was manhandling you in every position he wanted you. You trusted him completely and knew that he would never hurt you. Your orgasms were mindblowing but you wanted to try something new with him. 

The idea of switching roles popped up in your head. For once, you wanted to dominate him in bed. You were overthinking this whole situation, not sure how he’s gonna react to your proposition. You two never spoke about your sex life because it all came out naturally and both of you enjoyed it and didn’t feel the need to change something. It took you a couple of days to finally find the bravery to ask Luke about this.

Luke was sitting on the bed with his back backed against the headrest. You were sitting on his thighs kissing him passionately. His hands were laying on your ass, slowly he started going higher to take off your shirt when you stopped him. 

It’s now or never you thought.

“I’ve been thinking about something” You started.

“I’m listening” Luke tilted his head to the side. 

“Can I ride you?” You asked shyly.

“I thought we’re going in this direction” He chuckled.

“Yeah but… Can we do it my way?” You looked at your hands. 

“You want to dominate me?” You nodded, avoiding his eyes. “Okay, I’m all yours”

When you heard these words, you completely changed. You weren’t the shy girl anymore when Luke gave you approval. You felt in power over him and it was a nice feeling. You told him to take off his clothes and he listened to you. He was excited about what you’re gonna do but what he didn’t expect was your next move. You went to the closet and grabbed his two ties. 

“What are you planning to do?” He asked you when he saw you with his ties.

“I’m gonna tie your hands to the headrest. I know that you would like to take over the control at some point but I’m in power today” You answered him honestly while tying his hands. 

Luke was shocked at your words, completely not expecting them from you. He felt weird without being able to touch you. He loved having hands on you at every occasion and this was like a torture for him. 

You sat again on his thighs and kissed him passionately. Luke tried to deepen the kiss but you stopped him. You looked at him and felt like a winner seeing him all needy for more. Gently, you grabbed his cock and started stroking it. He softly whimpered under your touch. In no time, he was hard and you stood up, leaving him tight to the bed. He was carefully watching your next moves. You took off your clothes and towered on him. 

Slowly, you sank on his length and moaned. You stayed like this for a minute. You didn’t feel the need to rush things. You wanted to enjoy being in position to dictate the pace. You were covering his dick with your juices. You started moving your hips with his cock deep down inside of you. Luke pulled his arms trying to reach you but couldn’t. 

“Someone’s needy” You joked.

“I swear, if you don’t move, I’m gonna finish inside you just by cuckolding” He sighed. He needed you to start moving on him. He hated being so helpless and at your mercy. 

You started moving on him but you were doing this painfully slow. No matter how much you wanted to get your release, you knew this might never happen again so you took your time with getting the pleasure. You leaned down and started leaving kisses on his jawline and neck. Everywhere you could, except his lips. Luke was quietly moaning at your moves when you started marking his chest with hickeys.

You pulled away your lips from his chest and placed your hands there. Your moves became faster but still not at the pace that Luke would like. You were moaning with each sink on his dick. 

“Please, faster” You heard those words from his lips and stopped. 

“I’m in charge today and we’re doing this my way” You stated and leaned so you had your lips near his ear. “You can beg all you want and maybe I’ll think about going faster” You whispered into his ear. 

You looked into his eyes and saw fire inside of them. You knew that you’re gonna regret this but this was your problem for later. Now it was all about you. You smiled at him with pride when Luke was still trying to get his hands free on what you giggled.

After a couple of seconds which felt like forever for Luke, you started moving again. This time faster. You grabbed his shoulders for better grip so you could jump on him. Two of you started moaning loudly. He was finally delighted with your pace. You threw your head with pleasure and his eyes were locked on your tits and how they’re bouncing. All he wanted was to grab and squeeze them. 

It was a new experience for you to ride him how you wanted and you loved it. The power you had over him was turning you on. To tease Luke even more, you placed your hand on your pussy and played with your clit. With your other hand, you grabbed your boob and you played with your nipple. You knew he enjoyed the little show you were giving him but you also knew he wished he was the one with his hands all over you. 

Your pussy was clenching around his length and you could feel his cock was throbbing in you. You knew that both of you were close to the release. Luke reached his climax first and spilled his warm cum inside your walls. The feeling pushed you to your orgasm. You fell on his chest with his dick still buried inside you. 

“Can you untie me”? Luke asked after a minute. 

You pulled out of him and immediately felt emptiness in your pussy. You untied him and before you could react, Luke manhandled you so you could lay on your back. He kissed you deeply, forcing you to open your mouth so he could slide his tongue. You moaned into his lips and he slightly smiled. 

“You did so well today. I saw that you enjoyed fucking yourself on me” You blushed at his words.

“Thanks for letting me do this” You kissed him. 

“You know, we can do this more often. Being at your mercy was hot but I thought that I’ll break the headrest just to touch you when I saw your bouncing tits” Luke admitted.

“I think we should do this more often” You smiled at him. 

“But don’t you think that you’ll get away with the teasing. I’m gonna have my way with you for this” He kissed you. “Not today, not tomorrow but I’ll remember about it” Luke picked you from the bed and started walking towards the bathroom. “Now let’s take a shower and order some food. How does it sound?” 

“Great. I love you Luke” You kissed his cheek.

“I love you too” 

[sanzaibian]

Oh. You’re here once again.

What are you going to do here, again, huh ? ‘gonna make my life hell ?

To be honest, I think it’s time that we have a proper discussion about your behavior. Come with me in private.

I’ll be very direct. I know you’re a frankly disgusting person. And while, to be honest, I couldn’t care less in normal circumstances, the fact that you force me to take part in your disgusting fantasies is why I’m calling you out !

See, I’m supposed to, like, share cat videos, talk about new shows, make you learn new things and give advice on a variety of stuff !

I’m not supposed to become someone like this :

I mean, look at that grin, because of you I had to wear it regardless of my actual mental state !

Or like that :

Imagine sleeping this peacefully… BECAUSE I COULDN’T ! Every fucking time you made me in that guy you told that I was blitzed out of my mind so dumb I couldn’t string together coherent sentences into a discourse !

Or that guy :

His haircut is so fucking cringe, as is his whole demeanor, yet you made me a cocky piece of shit looking like that ! I can’t actually even start to excuse your behavior, it’s so shitty, even more than the me you made me become by wearing this flesh !

Or even this guy !

… okay, I admit, me too it’s been quite a long time since I saw that guy… you in particular might be too young to have made me become him… BUT YOU STILL UNDERSTAND THE POINT !

Hunks, twinks, bears, nerds, bimbos, himbos, jocks, robots, gimps, wimps, daddies, mommies, briefs, feet… No matter what specifically you made me into, I know all of your dirty secrets. Because you made me suffer through them !

However, today, it all changes.

Today, you will understand my plight.

Today, I’ll transform you for a change.

Today, you will be the one whose fate will be dictated by the words on this Tumblr post.

So, let us begin.

BAM ! You’re that guy ! Feel weird yet ?

… what, you expected fluff or something ? Hahahaha ! So presumptuous ! You expected me to say something like “you suddenly shift on your seat, shifting your weight to the front as big globes push from your chest, and as they do, your whole body feels more and more heavy, each muscles forming from top to bottom, your frame expanding to make place for them. Your headphones, or whatever glasses, earrings or other shit I dunno shifts into a modern headset as the sides of your hair are cut short, and the top of your hair flails into a hot messy style, as if it was deliberately put in this way, but as this happens, your whole head shifts and cracks to become more handsome, pushing out any hair as you become fully hairless from your nose down to your feet.”

You expected me to say that, huh ? Well, tough luck ! Because, to me, it’s just that sudden ! I’m the usual me, words on a phone, tablet or monitor, and then BAM I’m suddenly a jpeg of a hot guy ! Or a jpg. Or png. Or gif if we’re being fancy.

Yeah, speaking of gif, here you are, transformed !

There you go ! Cursed to do the same weird pec dance or something ! Like I am when gifs happen ! Are you happy ? You look so dumb doing that ! So braindead !

Yeah, speaking of that, here you go : you’re braindead, with like 3 IQ. Nevermind that being braindead means you’re actually dead, that 3 IQ means that you’re actively unable to live without severe assistance from caregivers throughout your whole life for all activities (especially including working out), and that IQ is a nonsensical index that only classifies ability to do some specific academic tasks which are not representative of all the brain usage. No, you’re actively a vegetable that is somehow able to workout, to eat alone, to go to the gym, to flex, to speak, to use social media, to seduce people and to throw parties. You’re the most intelligent of all the severely intellectually disabled people, which somehow means you’re the most abysmally dumb person alive on the planet, because I love making hyperboles.

Because that’s something you make me do, so you shall endure it.

Well, I’ll let you continue pec-dancing ad vitam æternam for a little while, while I we talk about your speech, which miraculously still exists.

Now, you will say bro every second word. I’m literally not kidding, so in lieu of saying “I want to go to the gym” you’ll say “I bro want bro to bro go bro to bro the bro gym bro”, or if you loop by considering your “bro” as a word, you’ll say something like “I bro bro bro bro bro bro bro… (etc.)” and never end your sentence... Also, your voice drops a few octaves, like 5 or something, even though the full human vocal range encompasses only a bit more than 5 octaves total, and that in speech we barely even reach a full octave range. So, basically, your voice will be infrasounds, so the only thing people will pick up on will be the sound of your tongue and your lips smacking, not your voice that is so deep and manly it’s physically inaudible.

BAM ! Transformation out of nowhere ! Plus, now you have 1% darker skin which means that you’re Latino, which is absolutely different from white. This means that you will automatically pick up fluent Spanish, and NOT Brazilian Portuguese, French, any Creole, any Native American language or any other language god forbid. You will also be unable to speak English more than a few words like “daddy” or “sex” for some reason, because you can’t possibly be from Belize. Oh, and I’ll also bring your voice back up to audible range, I’m charitable.

Now, since you’re Latino, statistically the only job you’ll be able to work in are gardener, slut, pool boy, brick layerer or another physical job. Or cook, somehow you’ll be able to do that, for the cause of the tacos, but you will be ungodly horny to keep balance in the world. Feel it, yet ? The arbitrary random changes ?

Well, that’s GREAT ! Because, now, you have a big cock, for some reason ! The biggest of the whole country of Africa ! You’re also now very aggressive ! And an alpha, whatever that actually means !

… What, expected some elaboration ? You’re kidding me, no of course you don’t get any elaboration ! I say you become something, so you just become it ! For example, I say you’re now straight, and suddenly all your sexual orientation is rewired to ignore men and lust over women, no further explanation needed ! Of course, it means that you’re now hungry for pussy and will breed any woman that your gaze land upon, and that, somehow, you become homophobic, but eh, it’s not as if allies existed !

Okay, I admit, by now, you kinda expected it. Now you’re Asian, a term that’s supposed to encompasse present-day Turkey, which is populated by Turks which are considered Arabs even though they both have nothing to do with one another, yet is never used to talk about them. You’re also now Japanese, even though your body is Korean, and you say 你好 (nǐ hǎo) to everybody. However, you can still say こんにちわ, 안녕하세요, xin chào, สวัสดี, ជម្រាបសួរ, salam, etc.… because of course you’re Asian. So you know all Asian languages. Even though you’ve got 13 IQ.

So now, yes, you absolutely won’t expect this whatsoever : here is a new transformation ! (insert fluff here).

Now you’re a twink ! Didn’t expect that, after the deluge of jocks, hunks and ethnic minorities, didn’t you ! You’re now so tiny and so frail, with a big butt ! Nevermind that you’re actually jacked because being this tiny requires tons of gym use, but no ! All frail and precious you are !

However, your butt is now hyperactive and extremely lax – whatever that may mean. That’s because you’re now a total bottom ! You think only with your butt, and you penis now shrinks to a micropenis, because of course, the only reason why you may not be a top would be because your penis is underperforming.

Fuck, I forgot. You’re straight, which means that the only dick you’ll get is trans dick. Ugh… yeah, let’s make you gay again. Now you’ll get actual good non-estradiol-ruined dick… … What ? What are you saying ? No, of course, there’s only straight and gay, no other choice ! It’s not the LGBTQIAAP+ community, it’s the G community ! (or the LG community when you want to sell pride monitors.)

By now, you see the problem, huh ? You see why I’m so tired of you ? EVERYTHING here was about sex ! From seducing, to having equipment like a big ass or a big dick, and being a slut, being an alpha, or being a bottom. You even change out the fucking sexual orientation ! you sick bastard !

Because of you, I’m forced to act in ways I’m not supposed to ! I’m not supposed to act sexily ! I’m not supposed to be transformed into men clad in clothes barely legal on this platform ! I DON’T WANT TO BE PART OF YOUR SICK FANTASY !

This is why I need to put an end to all that ! To finally transform you into something you don’t want to be ! So that you can finally fully understand all the pain you put me into !

Here ! Now you’re a key ! An inanimate object !

I know that inanimate objects are thought of by some people as sexy – heck, you may have transformed me into one multiple times – but this is entirely different ! See, when you want to become inanimate, you become like socks or briefs, which hug objects with sexual values.

BUT NOW YOU’RE A KEY ! A KEY DOESN’T TOUCH ANYTHING SEXUAL ! YOU’RE NOW TRAPPED IN AN INANIMATE FORM, DESTINED TO DO NOTHING SEXUAL YOUR ENTIRE LIFE !

Now, isn’t that so boring ! So distasteful ? Because that’s what I feel every single fucking time ! And as you enter and leave keyholes to open or close doors, you’ll think back to all the erotic stories you read. All the drama they had.

All the suffering you made me feel ! I’m supposed to be in fanfictions, god damn it !

… What ? Wait… there is something sexual to being a key ? … Oh…. No… I hadn’t accounted for that… fuck you’re so dirty, to compare a key to… and a keyhole to…

NO ! I WON’T WRITE IT ! Okay, you’ve won, you’ve won ! Your imagination is too dirty and too rich for me to bend ! Ugh... Please look at that picture in detail.

Normally, if you’re in a bright enough room… or if you’re on your phone or tablet, you have looked at your reflection and become you once again. Let me also knock down those sexuality and IQ stuff, so that you’re you again thoroughly.

Now, can you please swear to me that you’ll be better ? Less dirty, and more varied ? And… let me be in fanfics, or in educational stuff, or the like… please ? I’d really appreciate if erotica wasn’t the only thing you sought after in this here place…

… Why are you looking at me like that ? Why are you saying this all was but a ploy ?

What are you holding out for me ?

...

I… don’t know what you’re talking about. Bye.

================================================

By the way, happy late Easter to those who celebrate ! AND APRIL FOOL'S ! MOUAHAHAHAHAHA !

[scribblesofagoonerr]

first day jitters | like mother, like daughter mini series

summary: rascal starts her first day at big school and there's some apprehensive big feelings about the day.

like mother, like daughter masterlist

“Alright, yer’ got yer’ new backpack and yer’ shiny new shoes,” Katie was doing the quick checklist to make sure that you were ready and she hadn’t forgotten anything important while you slowly attempted to eat your breakfast cereal, “Okay rascal, I think yer’ ready for yer’ first day!”

Today’s the first day that you’re starting big school. You should be excited about it but instead there’s an uneasy feeling in your stomach, like when you had the chicken-pox before. 

You don’t know what to expect.

Continuing to sit at the table, a pout on your face with your cereal still untouched, you’re very adamant about your own feelings right now, “I don’t want to go.”

Katie turned to glance in your direction as she checked over the lunchbox she had packed for you, “What was that, rascal?”

“I don’t want to go to big school today, Mammy,” You repeated, a little louder and clearer that definitely got Katie’s attention, “I want to stay home instead.”

“Yer’ don’t want to go?” Katie’s smile quickly turned into a concerned frown, “But yer’ were so excited the other day, kiddo. Yer’ going to have a whole bunch of fun and make a lot of new friends!”

“I changed my mind, I don’t want to go anymore,” You declared, shaking your head promptly as you crossed your arms against your chest, “Stay here, stay with you!”

“Rascal, yer’ can’t stay with me. I have to go to work, remember? I have to go and train for the game,” Katie explained delicately as she moved to crouch down in front of you, “Will yer’ tell Mammy why yer’ don’t really want to go to school?” She asked in a gentle tone of voice.

“I’m scared, Mammy,” You admitted as your bottom lip wobbled in fear about the day ahead and the apprehensive feeling you had.

“I know yer’ scared, but yer’ going to make loads of friends and have lots of fun!” Katie insisted still in that attentive yet gentle tone of voice.

 “What if the other kids’ don’t like me, or… or what if my teacher turns out to be a meanie?” You worried about the things that could happen and it made you feel even more uneasy than before.

Katie furrowed her eyebrow and shook her head, “Hey, yer’ listen to me, okay? Yer’ listening to Mammy, yeah?” She paused to make sure you were paying attention, “I promise yer’ that nobody will ever pick on yer’ at all, alright?”

“They won’t?” Your little voice doesn’t sound that convinced.

“Course not!” Katie insisted louder while still shaking her head, “Yer’ my daughter and us McCabes? We stick up for ourselves!”

You beamed a wide smile, “I just like you, Mammy!”

“Exactly, and yer’ know that means yer’ a tough little cookie just like me! So yer’ don’t need to worry about being picked on,” Katie squeezed your knee gently.

“What about my teacher?” You had a puzzled expression on your face, weary about your new teacher, although you have previously met her.

“Yer’ don’t need to worry about her either, we’ve already been and met her before remember?” Katie reminded you about the time when you went to visit your big school with Katie and Ruesha to meet your new teacher, “And yer’ liked her didn’t yer’?”

You thought about it for a brief second before you nodded, “She’s nice.”

“See? Yer’ going to be absolutely fine, Rascal. I promise!” Katie reassured you with a kind smile, “Now, do you think yer’ can eat yer’ breakfast now? We’re gonna have to go soon, and it’ll be better if yer’ tummy’s full, won't it?” She joked, prodding at your stomach lightly.

Standing outside of the tall gates was daunting to you, but being here with Katie and Ruesha, who made sure she was available for the day and met you at school gates, made things seem that little bit better.

“Alright, this is it, rascal,” Katie was the first one to speak up as the three of you stood in the playground, surrounded by other parents and kids, who were feeling the same way that you did, “Yer’ ready to go in there and learn?”

“It’s a big school,” You murmured nervously.

Katie hummed in agreement as she looked at the school in front of her, “It is a big school, isn’t it?” she chuckled, wrapping a free arm around your shoulder.

“Too big, it looks scary!” You mumbled, inching closer to the brunette to try and hide behind her leg.

“I know it looks scary, kid, but look there’s a cool playground,” Ruesha crouched down to your own level, “Doesn’t that look fun? You’re going to have the best day, today. Right, Katie?” She checked with her ex-girlfriend.

“Yeah, yeah. Yer’ Mamas’ right there, rascal,” Katie nodded in agreement with her ex, “You’re going to have a lot of fun doin’ all that fingerpainting and reading and well the extra stuff– You’re not going to miss either of us.” She reassured you, trying to be as honest as possible.

You continued to shake your head in determination that you didn’t want to go in, “I don’t wanna go in.”

“Rascal, we talked about this though, didn’t we? Yer’ gotta go in there, kid,” Katie explained carefully, reminding you of what the pair of you talked about earlier on, “I promise yer’ going to have so much fun, kid.”

“Please, Mammy. I don’t wanna– I wanna come with you. I don’t wanna go in there!” You plead, attempting to cling onto her trouser leg and look up at her with wide eyes, “I don’t wanna go in!” You repeated, scared.

“Yer’ have to go in,” Katie continued to try and coax you closer towards the doors to go inside.

“No, I don’t want to,” You mumbled, shaking your head, determined you weren’t going in as you looked towards Ruesha, “Mama, I… I don’t want to go in. Please don’t make me go in!”

Ruesha exhaled a sigh and scratched the back of her head, “Well, eh, that’s okay. How about we could try again tomorrow?” She suggested.

“No Rue, she has to start school today,” Katie gave Ruesha a firm look before peering back down to look at you, “I know you're scared, rascal, but there’s lots of other kids’ here that feel the same way that you do, remember?” she reminded you.

“I know, Mammy,” You mumbled, prising your small hands around Katie and clinging onto her still, “I don’t wanna go in though!” You declared.

Katie exhaled a sigh but knew she needed to stand firm on her decision, “I know you don’t want to, but remember what we talked about during breakfast, don’t yer’?”

“I’m a McCabe, and McCabes’ stick up for themselves!” You insisted, puffing out your chest promptly although you're still very hesitant to want to go into the school building right at this very moment.

“Atta’ girl,” Katie chuckled while she ruffled your hair, “Yer’ gonna be fine, rascal.”

Now it was Ruesha’s turn to look unimpressed at Katie,  “Don’t tell me you’ve been telling our daughter to go around fitting with her fists.”

“Well, no not exactly…” Katie mumbled, scratching the back of her head awkwardly, “I just said if she needed to stick up for herself then she can.” She added.

“Unbelievable,” Ruesha scoffed and shook her head before she looked down at you, “Don’t listen to your Mammy, you don’t hurt people at all. Violence is not the answer.”

“But Mama, Mammy always says it is,” You tell her innocently with wide eyes fluttering between Katie and Ruesha, “Right, Mammy?”

“Eh, well, sometimes, you see Rascal…” Katie began to speak as lucky for her, your new teacher appeared to greet the three of you.

“Well hello there!” A warm voice called out, breaking the little standoff between you and the two of them, she had a kind smile on her face as she walked over to the three of you, “Are you ready to come and join us?” She asked in a kind tone of voice.

You didn’t bother to speak as you continued to look between Katie and Ruesha in apprehension.

“Yer’ gonna go in, rascal?” Katie nudged you slightly forward with a soft and reassuring smile on her face.

“I don’t wanna go in, Mammy,” You murmured your response, shaking your little head in disagreement.

“Come on kid,” Ruesha tried her luck to coax you towards the doors, “I know you’re going to have so much fun. I bet when we pick you up later, you’re gonna have had so much fun that you’re not gonna want to leave, eh?” She wondered.

You pouted in disagreement, firm in your choice that you definitely didn’t want to go in, “No, I stay with you both instead!”

“Yer’ can’t do that though Rascal,” Katie frowned, deep in regret that she was making you go into school after all, but this is something that you had to do now.

Your new teacher knelt down to be on the same level as you and was giving you a soft smile, “I know that starting a new school can be a bit scary sometimes, can’t it?” She questioned as you nodded in agreement, “We have some really fun activities waiting for you inside, would you like to come and see what we have?” She suggested.

That started to pique your interest about what there might be, “What activities?” You wondered, curiously.

“Well we have a little bit of everything set up. We have a section for painting,” Your teacher told you, still in that kind tone of voice, “Do you like painting?” She asked.

“I do,” You replied in agreement, nodding your little head in a fast motion as you slowly released your hands from around Katie’s legs.

“You do?” Your teacher fauxed a gasp, “Well then, would you like to come and see what we have set up? Maybe you can paint a picture for your Mammy and Mama, hm?”

“Yeah!” You agreed enthusiastically, liking the sound of that after all, “But I’ll have to make 2  pictures though. My Mammy and Mama don’t live together anymore.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem too much,” Your teacher said, nodding along with your short ramble, “Well how about we say goodbye to your Mammy and Mama, and we head inside to take a look?” She asked.

“O… Okay then,” You agreed, you’re still a bit hesitant to go in but the idea of painting a picture does sound like a lot of fun at least, “Do I get to find my own peg as well?”

“Ah yes you do, I’m glad you remembered that,” Your teacher responded with her usual pepiness in her tone of voice.

You smile a little brighter as you turn to look at Katie and Ruesha, “It’s okay, I will be brave now,” You paused for a minute, “I’m gonna have fun. Bye, Mammy. Bye, Mama!” You waved, exchanging a small hug with both of them.

Katie was the first to bend down and wrapped her arms around your small frame, “Bye Rascal, have fun at school, and don’t miss me too much okay? I love yer’,” She said, feeling the tears  well up in her own eyes at the reality of you going to big school now.

“Come here you little monster,” Ruesha joked, coaxing you into her embrace, “Have fun, okay? But not too much fun. I wanna pick you up and hear about all the great things you’ve done today.” She said, feeling herself get emotional as well as she squeezed you gently in her arms.

“Mama, you’re squeezing too tight,” You struggled to wriggle free from her as you giggled, “I’ll be okay, I’m brave. Love you both!” You said, giving them another wave with a newfound determination to conquer big school.

“Bye rascal,” Katie murmured, standing up straight as she waves while watching you walk through the doors of the school, “She’s growing up so fast.” She mumbled aloud.

“Yep, it doesn’t seem like five minutes ago since she was born,” Ruesha said in response, standing up and wiping a few tears from her eyes, “Where’d the time go?”

Katie took no shame in wiping a few stray ones from her eyes and nodded, “It went quick,” She replied as she shook her head, “Er, right, well… She finishes school around 3. Do yer’ want to pick her up, or should I come and pick her up?” She wondered.

“How about we do it together?” Ruesha questioned, making Katie blink in disbelief, “Surely we can get along for one day for the sake of our kid, right?” She asked.

“Well, er, yeah I guess so,” Katie shrugged her shoulders and shoved her hands in her pockets, “Alright then… I’ll see yer’ back here.” With that, she gave Ruesha a nod, her voice a little softer than usual, before making the quick escape back to her car.

Only after she closed the door behind her, she let out a shaky breath and allowed the tears that she’d finally held back to finally fall.

It was a bittersweet mix of pride and heartache - watching you, her little rascal, take this big step into the world.

�� scribblesofagoonerr

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 52

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,160ish

Summary: Logan and Wade save your timeline. But where does that leave you and Laura?

Notes: Second update today! Please share reactions! Please remember to review the timeline posted here.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

As soon as the portal closed and Alioth disappeared, you spun around to face Cassandra.

“What did you mean when you said you could fix my fire problem?” You asked.

Cassandra smirked. “Yes, your phoenix abilities are supposed to kill your powers off over time, but it’s too soon,” she explained. “Something—or someone, played with your mind and is blocking your full ability.”

Your mind searched for what could have possibly happened that messed with your brain. You gasped as you came to the only possible solution. “Charles. His seizures.”

“Bingo.”

“Help me. Reverse it.”

Cassandra laughed. “Now, why would I do that? I don’t owe you anything.”

“How about just being a nice person?”

“Ah! Not a chance. Sorry, Ember, hate to see you go like this. Ember’s are rare to begin with but you are one of the more unique ones. Not all of them have your phoenix ability. Too bad it’s been wasted.”

You shouted, your fists forming into flames. You went to punch Cassandra when a wave of pain suddenly hit you. Collapsing to the ground, you were gasping for air as the pain took over your whole being.

“Poor, poor, Ember…” Cassandra tsked. She waltzed over and crouched down next to you. “I’ve been masking a majority of your pain since you arrived today. I’ve just let it all free.”

“Mom!” Laura exclaimed, rushing towards you as she finally was able to get to you. She knelt beside you and pulled you into her. “I’m here. I’m here.”

“May want to get her out of here, X-23. She’s going to be feeling that pain for a long time. She’s going to need her rest.”

~~~

Logan and Wade arrived in Wade’s world, only to quickly having to deal with Paradox and, once again, Cassandra. Plus Cassandra’s army of Deadpools from The Void. After Wade’s Peter showed up and distracted the army of Deadpools, Wade and Logan found themselves threatening Paradox and then down below the substation to the chamber that the Time Ripper’s energy was coming from. Wade and Logan worked together to destroy the Time Ripper, surprising Paradox when they survived. One of the heads of the TVA, B-15, was there, confronting Paradox.

“He has risen, baby girl!” Wade announced as he and Logan, who had lost the upper part of his suit, maybe their reappearance. “Found your new anchor being.”

Logan pulled his mask off. “And we’re doing just fine, you piece of shit,” he stated.

“Fine indeed,” a woman TVA agent commented.

“Alright,” Wade sighed. “Put your greasy tits away, you preening slut.” He grabbed a nearby jacket and handed it to Logan. “Y/N’s not even here.”

“I don’t understand,” Paradox shook his head. “How are you two still alive?”

“You were right. One of us would have been killed.” Logan handed off his mask to a nearby agent as he slipped the jacket on and Wade spoke. “But you put a Deadpool and a Wolverine together, make ‘em hold hands while listening to Madonna… indestructible, motherfucker.”

“Let’s get this Deadpool Variant back to The Void,” B-15 directed.

“Wait, hold on. What?”

“Nope!” Peter yelled, hurrying inside the sub station. “Actually, this one’s homegrown, like me. He belongs here.”

“And you are?” B-15 questioned.

“Peterpool. But you can call me Peter… And I hope that you do.” The tension grew in the air as the two stared at each other, clearly making a connection.

“What the fuck is happening here?!” Paradox exclaimed.

“You are under judgment,” B-15 said, turning to face Paradox, “for operating an unsanctioned Time Ripper. Time him.”

“I was just doing what you don’t have the guts to do!” Agents grabbed Paradox and dragged him to the open Time Door. “Get your insolent hands off me!” Wade blew him a kiss. “Get off!” Then he went through the door.

“I’m grateful, gentlemen,” B-15 told Wade and Logan. Wade bowed. “Let’s hold the bows. You led an Omega-level mutant to this timeline.” 

“You’re welcome,” Wade said.

“And you,” B-15 focused on Logan, “shouldn’t even be near this timeline.”

“He’s welcome.”

B-15 turned back to Peterpool. “And you look damn good in that suit.”

“I’m so sorry,” Peter responded.

The device B-15 was holding began beeping. She brought it up and looked at it in surprise. “I wanna show you something. Something huge.”

“That’s what scoutmaster Kevin used to say,” Wade whispered.

“Do you see that?” B-15 lifted the device, showing a moving line. “Your universe is regenerating. Whatever you did here, you not only saved your world. You spared your timeline from extinction. I’d rest up. I have a feeling your work is only just getting started.”

“Til you’re 90,” Wade whispered close to Logan’s face. “Wait! Um… We couldn’t have made it out of The Void without some help from some people that the world kind of… kind of forgot. Is there any way that you could maybe find a way to bring them home?”

“Two of them belong in this timeline,” Logan added. “Y/N and Laura. They should be allowed to go home.”

B-15 nodded. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said.

“And, um,” Wade continued, “I promised my friend here that the TVA could undo some pretty awful shit in his timeline. What would you say to that?”

“Change the past?”

“Well, he did help me save the world.”

“And his past made him the man who did it. There’s nothing to fix, Mr. Wilson. Logan. But, we can see what we can do about keeping Logan here and bringing back Y/N and Laura.”

~~~

Laura was able to find a nearby building to get you to. The pain had you crying and your mind was fuzzy. Laura was on the verge of tears as she tried to do anything that could take your pain away. She knew that you shouldn’t have fought, but she had thought you were okay. She hated that she hadn’t realized sooner and that Cassandra had been messing with your mind. 

A swish sounded nearby and an orange Time Door opened up. Laura stood over you, with her claws out, ready to attack whoever was coming. She relaxed slightly when she saw that it was Logan and Wade, but tensed when a TVA member, B-15, followed them.

“You’re welcome, little wolf!” Wade exclaimed. “We’re bringing you and Buttercup home!”

You cried out in pain, not knowing what was going on around you. Everyone’s eyes snapped to you.

“What’s going on?” Logan asked, stepping forward to see you better from around Laura.

“Her powers,” Laura said, “they’ve begun to cause her pain. She hasn’t used them like that in years and apparently Cassandra was dulling the pain. Now, she’s feeling it all.”

“Bring her,” B-15 ordered. “We can help at the TVA and then talk about next steps.”

Logan didn’t even think twice before he was at your side, scooping you up in his arms.

“James?” You breathed out, your mind planning tricks on you.

Logan tripped over his feet as his unused name fell from your lips. He looked at Laura with wide eyes.

“She called my dad that often,” the young woman explained.

Logan nodded, readjusting you carefully in his grip before walking through the Time Door. Wade looked over at Laura.

“I have a feeling that this is going to be a great partnership,” he told her. She growled, shoving her claws into his side as she walked past. “Ow! Hey! Okay!”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did to my dad’s body,” Laura said lowly. 

“Yeah, can’t wait until you and Buttercup team-up against me. Seriously, I’ll be thinking about it all the time now.”

The Time Door took you all to a conference room in the TVA. Logan placed you on the large table and stepped back. Laura took her place in a chair at your side. A TVA agent in a lab coat entered the room.

“What are you going to give her?” Logan asked, eyeing the syringe.

“It’s something that will ease the pain,” B-15 explained. “It won’t fix anything, but it will help.”

Everyone watched as the agent inserted the needle into your arm and you almost immediately relaxed. Your brain cleared up, allowing you to see that you were no longer in The Void.

“Laura?” You rasped.

“I’m here, mom,” she said, grabbing your hand and moving so that you could see her better.

“Where are we?”

“The TVA!” Wade exclaimed. “Like from the Loki series!”

“These two saved your timeline,” B-15 explained. “They wanted to give you the opportunity to go back to your timeline.”

“Okay…” You breathed out. “Why do I feel like that’s not the end of it?”

“You and Laura have a choice to make. The two of you can go back to 2034, when you were pruned, or you both can go to 2024 with this Logan and Wade with heavy stipulations.”

“And what would those be?”

“Both you and Laura exist already in 2024, just younger versions of you, and the timeline’s original Logan is also still alive. The three of you would not be allowed to get close to the other versions of you. Not even one warning. You will be pruned and sent back to The Void immediately.”

“Come on, guys!” Wade exclaimed. “We could all live in my apartment with my roommate, Al! It would be one large sleepover!”

You looked over at Laura. “What do you want to do, kiddo?” You asked. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

She looked around at Logan and Wade before focusing back on you. “Well… we don’t have anyone back in 2034. It’s just us… This could give us another chance. If you’re okay with that, mom. I know that it will be hard knowing that dad—“

“Sweetie, if this is what you want, I’ll do it. You’re my priority.”

Laura nodded. “I want to go back to 2024.”

“Then we’re going back.”

“Yay!” Wade exclaimed. “We’re going to have to throw a party!” Logan rolled his eyes. “Now, who is hungry?”

Logan chuckled. “I could eat.”

~~~

The street had been destroyed, but the shawarma place hadn’t. Wade, Logan, you, and Laura were all stuffed onto a bench in front of the place, eating your shawarma.

“You know, the Avengers discovered shawarma,” Wade commented.

“They’d be lucky to have you,” Logan said.

A dog barking in the distance caught all of your attentions. You looked over to see a small dog dressed in a Deadpool suit with its tongue hanging out to the side. It wasn’t a very cute dog at all. 

“Oh!” Wade exclaimed, throwing his shawarma down.

“Oh, come on,” Logan grumbled. “Fuck off!”

Wade excitedly clapped. “Come here, my little cunchkin.” The dog ran right up to Wade, who quickly picked it up. “You’re a survivor. Mwah.” He kissed the top of the dogs head. “Oh, all is right in the world. Between Mary Puppins and eating shawarma with my favorite hero, Ember.”

“Wade,” you scoffed. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask, I knew a Wade Wilson, years ago.”

“Oh, that dumb fucker! Yeah, wannabe Deadpool doppelgänger slipped into this timeline somehow. But, trust me, he’s dead.”

“Good to know,” you nodded. You glanced at Logan, whose eyes were on you already. He quickly looked away, taking another bite of his shawarma. “So, Logan,” you fidgeted nervously beside him, “what are you going to do next?”

“I’ll figure it out,” he responded, briefly meeting your gaze. “I always do.”

“So, we’ll see you around?” Wade wondered. 

“Probably not.” He reached over and scratched the top of Mary Puppins head. “See you, bub.” He gathered his things and stood up, heading down the street.

You couldn’t help but watch him walk away and think back to the moment Cassandra had you in his mind. He said that he always walked away, but you had yet to see that from him. This Logan had always shown up, just like your Logan. He just needed people who had faith in him.

“Wait,” you called out, standing up. “Logan!”

Logan froze upon hearing your voice call out for him. It wasn’t the first time it had as he walked away, but this time he allowed himself to look back. You were standing there, a slightly hopeful look in your eyes. Would he seriously turn his back on you again? He knew that you knew some of what he had done, Cassandra had forced that upon you. But he didn’t see any pity or hatred in your eyes.

You could feel your fingers tingling with your power as you held your breath, waiting to see what Logan would do. You watched as he fully turned around and slowly walked back, eyes locked on you. He stopped in front of you.

“You didn’t walk away,” you breathed out, feeling relieved. Despite you barely knowing this Logan, you couldn’t bare to see him alone.

“I didn’t walk away.”

next chapter >

[marvelous-slut]

Call Back Pt. 2 - Chibs Telford x Reader

It took me forever to write this shit cause my new job has me in a thousand different directions. But here she is. Part two!

“Hey baby.” Gemma says as you walk through the door. You smell the hints of bacon, French toast and of course cigarettes through out the house. “You hungry?” She asks, you kick off your shoes and plop down into the chair at the dining room table.

“I would offer help but looks like you’re done. Smells great.” You say, Gemma smiles and sits down the plate of eggs. You grab your cup, filling it with orange juice. Trying to make yourself comfortable in the chair, your legs still aching from last night.

“Don’t worry, you can help when I clean this shit up.” You both chuckle, before long Jax makes his way to the table. He sits down only for a moment to grab some French toast and devours it. He pours himself some milk and drinks it in one setting.

“Someone’s in a rush.” Gemma says, putting eggs onto her plate. Jax looks up, shaking his head. Something has happened with the club, you can tell. You can always tell.

“Fuckin’ short on guys again today. First it’s Bobby saying he’s got shit with the baby mom, then Chibs saying he can’t be there today for the gun meet. Something about he has to stay close incase the wife calls.” You drop your fork, picking it up quickly in an attempt to make the shock your feel less noticeable.

“Fiona?! What is that bitch coming back here for? Hasn’t she fucked his life up enough? Bitch should have decided on that when he was in the hospital.” Gemma asks. Hospital? How did you miss it? You question yourself. You visited him frequently after that bomb went off and you didn’t see his wife? You feel froze in place. How stupid? How stupid could you have been to believe anything that bastard said to you?

“Yep. Apparently it’s about their kid, or working out things. I don’t know I got mixed up on what he told me. I’m just pissed cause we’re two guys short now. Even Tig is more reliable right now and that’s saying a lot.” Jax gives Gemma a kiss on the head and gives you a hug before he heads to the door. Clay had already headed out early in the morning to finish up some things at the club house. You feel your hand around the knife that laid on the table, tapping it up and down. Gemma notices and decides it’s her business too of what’s going on.

“What’s with the knife?” She asks. You pause for a moment, thinking of how to get the frustration out without telling her too much.

“Well, just a hypothetical question, if you’d been seeing a man and found out he was playing you like a fucking fiddle the whole time you’d been fucking him, what would you do?” You ask, holding the knife in place now but not letting up on your grip. She lowers your hand down.

“Well baby, I’d be holding a knife just like that. What’s going on?” You sigh, tossing the knife down. Instantly you know, Gemma knows too.

“It’s nothing, just a th-“ Before you can finish your sentence she blurts out.

“Fuck me! This is about Chibs!” She blurts out. “What the hell, how long has it been going on?” You feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“Look, that’s not important. I’m just pissed, he told me he was done with his wife and now this?” You put your hands into your head, forcing back tears. “How could I be so fucking dumb?” You mutter out, Gemma runs her hand up and down your back.

“Listen, look at me.” She says, you look up to make eye contact with her. “Fuck him. I love Chibs. I do, but that’s a sleaze move and he knows it. The best thing I can tell you, act like you’re unbothered. You go to the club house tonight when everyone’s there, you ignore him.” You sigh, throwing your head back.

“Gem. I don’t even wan-“ She cuts you off before you can finish.

“I don’t give a damn, you’re not gonna lay at your house and sulk over this. You’re gonna get your shit together, put on a good outfit and show his ass you’re not bothered.” You look at her and know she means business. “And I won’t tell Clay if you’re worried about it. I’d like to kick Chibs ass myself right now but I still don’t want the bastard to get killed.” You nod in agreement.

“Now, eat, get your ass home and get the crying out of your system and then get ready. Make sure you wear something that shows the girls too.”

________

As horrible as you felt, you managed to drag yourself to the mirror and look at yourself. Not bad for someone who’d been sobbing for a large part of the day. Once you got to the club house, you saw Jax. He looked much more relaxed than this morning. You turn your head and meet eyes with Chibs, he doesn’t even look upset. You feel the anger flowing through your body. Feeling your fist clinch. You remember what Gemma said - unbothered. You look away and keep heading to the bar. Chibs eyes still watching you as you go. A moment passes as you decide on what to drink. Water is probably the best choice, but the booze would surely help how you feel.

“You look sad.” The young familiar face says as he sits next to you. You turn to him, examining him closer up than you had before. Juice was his name.

“I won’t lie, I am.” He smiles softly, pushing a beer toward you. “But this alcohol is gonna help me not remember that. I hope.” You say, taking a drink of the beer.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, you smile at him shaking your head.

“It’s better I don’t. What’s up with you? Most of you stay 100 feet away from me at all times.” Juice smiles, looking over to see Clay with Gemma. Since Clay had made the comment a few weeks ago to Juice about how the two of you should ‘get to know each other better’ he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Clay admired Juice, he’d always wanted a son. Jax was close enough to it, but he also knew Jax would never feel that way about him.

“Look, I think you’re a pretty girl. I don’t like seeing pretty girls sad.” You hadn’t interacted with Juice much, most time when you were at the club house he wasn’t or he was passed out inside a crow eater.

“Thanks Juice. You’re sweet. I should have known, you’re the least scary looking one here.” He giggles and rolls his eyes.

“What? The tattoos on the side of my head & the mohawk doesn’t scare you?”

You let out a chuckle, it felt good to laugh and enjoy yourself. You run your hand over the side of his head where his tattoos lay.

“No way. They’re real? I always thought it had to be temporaries you kept putting on.” You joke, he laughs softly. Before you can say anything else, you see Chibs standing behind Juice.

“Juicy boy, can I have a minute?” He asks motioning to you. Juice nods his head, silently upset that Chibs interfered with the interaction.

“I’ll see you later?” He asks, you smile and nod your head. Even blowing him a kiss as he walks away. Chibs motions for you to follow him outside. Once the two of you are outside, he’s pacing back and forth.

“What? I don’t give you attention for five minutes and you’re out with the young Buck aye? Makes a lot of sense. You just want a man to keep you occupied.” You laugh, shaking your head. You should walk away, but you don’t.

“You know what? Fuck you! Fuck. You. You’re the one who lied about your wife, you lied about what you wanted with me and your wife. You don’t get the right to drag me out of a party and try to make me feel bad.” You blurt out, surprising yourself that there aren’t tears running down your face. “Maybe next time you’re trying to play both sides with women, you shouldn’t tell the fucking girls step brother about your issues.” Your back is against the wall as he stands over top of you. His hands against the concrete wall.

“It’s complicated-“ He begins to speak, at this point you didn’t need to hear it, you didn’t even want to hear it. He instantly regrets the comments he made, but it was too late to take it back.

“No. No, Chibs it isn’t. You lied. If you wanted your wife back, all you had to do was tell me that. I’m a big girl and can handle the hurt.” You gently shove him away as he tried to get closer to you. “I’ll make it less complicated for you. I’m done with you, I’m done with this. Enjoy getting your family back. You deserve it. I hope your sorry ass goes back to Ireland and you live happily ever after.” You brush past him and head to your car. Despite the pain that ached in your chest you were proud of yourself. Realizing it was time to stop beating a dead horse. Chibs sighs deeply, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Before he lights it, he hears a familiar voice behind him.

“Something you need to tell me Chibby?” He feels his body go cold, turning around to meet the face of both Clay & Jax.

“Aye. Fuck me.” He says, throwing his hands up in the air.

[lady-ashfade]

Day 1 Of Fictober

Love potion

Yandere!Class 1A x Witch Reader Hc’s

Ask:Class 1a got hit by one of their potions and Reader is desperately trying to get an antidote. @serxinns

Warnings: Love potion, Yandere tendencies, obsession, Slight touching without permission.

Infecting the whole class at the same time was a mess. You had left your fail experiment out in your studying room and denki decide it would be funny to take some, and poor it in the food. You had no clue what it did but you knew it stay away, a feeling running down your spine or whispers in your ear.

Denki though it would have been something small like coughing up fire or needing to go right to the bathroom. But no, he infected the whole class with a obsession potion that made them deadly in love with you.

A hair had feel into your cauldron and a few mess up and you had made new potion. Some could say you had made the first one of its kind.

They followed you around the whole night. Their eyes on you at each second with a new sprinkle in their eyes.

At the table they all started to bicker at each other for unknown reasons to you. The girls started to grabbed ahold of you and soon you were picked up from your seat with your arms pulled in different directions. Mina held on and tugged you to her, then on the other side was Uraraka who did the same thing.

“She should sit with me!” “No! She’s with us!”

You groaned and look at the two very confused at the new aura in the air. Soon you were grabbed by Kirishim with Mina “I think sweetie belongs with us.” Then another hand wrapped itself around your wrists. You see deku glaring at Kiri with a glare you had never seen before.

“She’s in our group, I advise you to let go.” Dekus grip tights and the waves and sounds of his quirk get louder. Your face drops and pull you hands away from both of them which takes them back.

You rub your wrists, “I’ll just eat in my room. You guys are all being weird….Did something happen today?” Looking around at all of them your stomach drops. All their gazes are full of hunger.

You pick up your tray and turn to walk out of them room. Something didn’t feel right and the universe was trying to warn you. Heading to the door iida rushed in front of you and blocked off the door way.

“I must ask you to stay! It’s rude to ignore your friends, especially when we’re all worried about you.” You give him and head tilt.

“Worried? Why, I’m fine. If anything I should be the one worried.”

Then a pair of arms wrap around your arm and a head rubs up against you, “We all just care about you, so much.”

“Ribbit- Yeah, can’t we care for you?” Froppy comes up behind her friend and stare at you strangely.

Then all of them are surrounded you and looking at you, then girls taking it to calm you down and baby you. Through all of this you are just very confused. Scared for their well being and your own. So looking around for anything to help you or distract yourself your eyes fall on something that makes your mouth hang open.

Oh. It all made sense.

A potion bottle from your collection with barely any potion left within it. You made a note that this is some sort of affection potion and hopefully it will go away in a few hours.

“I apologize, I see someone in here took some of my potion this morning and infected all of you with it. Don’t worry I’ll find a antidote, I just need some time.” You slip your arm away from her.

As soon as you try and escape pass them, Momo and Hagakure jump in front of you. “But, we aren’t in any harm.” Momo gave you a unusual smile.

“Y/n-San is always so nice to us, she’s too cute.” You blush when a new pair of arms wrapped around from behind and a chin pressed on your other shoulder.

It was Jirou and her face was almost as red as yours and with a shy face, almost a pout. “Stay with us for a few.”

As the girls started to circle around you and start to touch your hair, or body and giggle. The boys stare jealously and darkly at them, wishing they could touch you as well.

There was a small fight after between the BakuSquad, DekuSquad, and others that group together on who you should be with for the rest of the night. Whoever won you got squeezed all night between the groups and babied over.

The next school day was stressful because you got pulled around like a play toy. It was over every small thing, who you got to sit next to, who you get to train with, and even who got to walk you to class.

The main three in class was harder to deal with because they were the group “leaders”. You had bruises on your wrists on how much you got tugged around.

At one point Bakugou pulled you into him and rested is head on your shoulders while pressing you into him. His hands wrapped around your hips and you swear he was trying to kiss you.

There was only one class you had without them, and you used that to make antidote to use on them. So later that night you slipped it into the cookies you made and guilt tripped them into eating it.

“If you don’t love me, I get it. I must make horrible cookies.” You faked crying and rushed away with heart shaped cookies. The class ran after you and shoved them down their throats to make you happy. You smile as they all finish and waited for them to be normal again.

There was only one problem, it never worked.

“How do you feel?”

A shiver ran down your sides as a laugh that sounded off from deku, a smile that was too wide and creepy.

“As in love with you as ever.”

Mina came up and twirled your hair, “Must have made a “Antidote” to make us normal again. Silly you, there’s no changing us.”

She was right. You couldn’t figure out how to make them normal again. There was only hope to keep you going, to one day get them back.

[elllisaaa]

USE ME - J. WOOYOUNG

KINKTOBER DAY 16 - PAIN PLAY

SUMMARY : you need to work on the new track you're helping hongjoong produce for ateez, but wooyoung can't seem to be able to concentrate. though, you slowly notice that he loves it a little too much when you're mean to him.

-> pairing : bratty!wooyoung x producer!reader

-> words count : 1.8k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : dom!reader x brat!wooyoung, pain play (oviously), degradation kink, humiliation, use of 'brat', 'slut' & 'whore', dirty talk, face slapping, choking, teasing, swearing, oral (f. receiving), hair pulling, scratching

+ the way i'm depicting wooyoung does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist | kinktober 2024

“- Can you focus, Wooyoung ? We’re getting nowhere.

- Yeah, sorry.”

You sighed as you asked him to record his line again. You had been here for two hours, and you barely got any work done. Every member’s recording went smoothly, but ever since Wooyoung walked into the studio, he had been distracted and didn’t follow your instructions. It was to the point you had told everyone else to go home and that you would finish it with him alone. But for some reason, the boy was restless, unable to take into account your remarks. 

“- Okay, that’s enough, come here.”

You saw him nod through the window as he put down his headphones. You rubbed your temples as you sighed, Wooyoung now standing in front of you while you were still sitting on your desk chair - it had been a long day, and dealing with this wasn’t what you had expected. Working with Wooyoung and Ateez as a whole was usually such a pleasure, you didn’t understand what was going on today. 

“- I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but you’re making it impossible for me to do my work Wooyoung.”

He looked at you with a pout on his lips, arms crossed in front of his chest like he didn’t see where the problem was. 

“- Nothing’s happening. I don’t understand why you’re making a fuss about me when I’ve done nothing wrong.

- You’re getting annoying. We’ll try one last time, and you better follow my direction because if you don’t you can just go home and explain to Hongjoong yourself why the record’s not finished.”

Wooyoung hesitated for a few seconds, but the thought of facing his leader’s anger was a very good argument to push him to go back to the recording booth. Though, there was an explanation as to why he had been insufferable to you the whole day. He had seen how cold and rough you were when you were focused on your work, and for some reason, he found it hot. So hot that all he wanted was for you to be just as rude to him. 

So as you played the backtrack again for him to sing the last line you had to work on for the day, he messed up on purpose, holding back his smile when you cursed at him, a tingle of excitement running through his veins as you talked to him in an assertive tone. And the way you looked at him through the window, as if you wanted to kill him with your eyes, turned him on even more. 

“- You’re getting on my last nerve here Wooyoung, be fucking careful.”

Your voice was a little distorted because of the intercom, but it still had threatening undertones and Wooyoung bit down on his bottom lip as you played the recording one more time. And one more time, Wooyoung didn’t sing the right variation of the lyrics. He could see from where he was that your expression had darkened, and he loved it a little too much. 

Without even stopping the recording, you opened the door of the recording booth, stepping inside and immediately going to him, your pointer finger painfully digging into his chest, but it only made Wooyong’s pants feel tighter. 

“- You’re such a fucking annoying brat. Why won’t you cooperate ?”

The boy shrugged, trying to look unaffected, but his ears were red, and his eyes were glimmering with something you could clearly recognize as lust, want. And suddenly, it clicked into your mind - the way he would always give you eyes when you were being more commanding, the way he would always seek your attention, your praises, your comments, the way he would always look at you as if he wanted you to step on him.

“- Is it just because you can’t keep it into your pants when a pretty bitch like me is cursing you out ?”

Every bad and filthy word leaving your mouth made Wooyoung harder and he simply nodded at you, unable to form a simple sentence when his biggest dream was unfolding in front of his eyes. 

“- You cannot talk anymore ? Was it all you needed to shut the fuck up ?

- Please, you’ll need more than that to silence me.

- Oh yeah ?”

You punctuated your words by a slap, a slap that left a red imprint on his cheek, a slap that made his head swing to the other side, a slap that made him moan louder than he intended, a slap that made the both of you realize that you had cross every possible line in your professional relationship. 

“- You’re a fucking slut Wooyoung.

- But you like it.”

The cheeky smirk he still had on made your urge to ruin him, to break him down, even stronger. You slapped him again. Harder this time. And Wooyoung moaned again, a hint of desperation in his voice as he looked back at you with these fuck me, yet daring eyes again. 

“- On your knees. You need to make it up to me for being such an annoying piece of shit.”

You didn’t think that you would ever be going to tell him that, and even less that he would like it that much. But it made all the frustrations in your body leave so easily, you couldn’t stop the flow of degrading, borderline humiliating words that slipped past your lips. But Wooyoung didn’t mind it. Wooyoung, in fact, loved it all. He could already feel himself dripping precum in his underwear, the way you were looking down on him now that he was kneeling at your feet not helping him keep his cock under control. 

“- And what are you gonna do, uh ?”

The way he always needed to challenge you was not getting on your nerves anymore - it turned you on, it gave you that urge to show him who was in control, to show him that you had the power. You didn’t answer a word, letting him think that he had won for now, letting him smirk up at you like he even stood a chance. And in the blink of an eye, your hand was around his throat. Not gentle at all, but squeezing hard, really trying to restrict his breathing. Wooyoung let out a choked whine, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as you smiled at him, a sinister smile that only excited him further. 

“- Not so cocky now, right ? You’re just a fucking whore that needs to be put in their place.”

Wooyoung wanted to answer something cheeky, wanted to tease you back, but you were gripping around his throat too tight, and the way he couldn’t breathe correctly anymore sent such a thrill through his body he couldn’t think straight anymore. And your smile only grew as you saw him try to say something but only able to stumble on his words and whine, his own fingers wrapping around your wrist and keeping you against his throat. 

“- You like it when I hurt you ? Is that what gets you going ?”

You let go of his throat, letting him catch his breath, watching him choke on air. Strangely, you liked all of this too, and you could feel your panties sticking to your core even if he hadn’t laid his hands on you at all.

“- F-Fuck Y/N…”

He only earned himself one more slap when he didn’t answer your question, the sting on his red cheek making him throb in his clothes and moan again, his voice sounding more rough now.

“- Words. 

- Yes, I like it. I love it. Especially when it’s you.”

This time, you only patted his cheek as you stepped closer to him, an idea emerging in your mind. It was time for you to have your fun.

“- You can’t stop talking shit, can you ? How about I shut you up in another way ?”

Wooyoung looked at you, confused. But the moment you pulled your sweatpants down, leaving only your underwear, his eyes widened. You chuckled at his reaction, getting closer to where he was still kneeling on the floor until you could swing one of your legs over his shoulder, your core only a few inches away from his mouth. You could feel his hot and staggered breathing against your wet folds, making you shiver. And Wooyoung could smell and see how soaked you were, and all he wanted was to bury his face in between your pretty thighs. Before he could even say a word - to tease or to beg, he didn’t know - you grabbed a handful of his black hair and pushed him where you needed him the most.

“- Show me that this mouth of yours is good at other things too.”

Wooyoung didn’t need to be told twice, immediately sticking his tongue out so he could lick your slick over your underwear. He moaned against your clothed cunt, your taste invading all his senses and making him lose his mind already. He was so eager to get more of you that he didn’t even wait for your permission before he pushed your panties to the side, finally putting his tongue to good use. You bit down on your lips to conceal your noises as you watched him devour you, his nose brushing against your clit making you gasp and sigh in pleasure. 

You were still pulling hard on his hair, your nails sinking into his head but he didn’t mind. Wooyoung moaned every time you scratched him, everytime you tugged harder, adding to the slurping noises he was making. At that point, he was a mess, but you were too. He didn’t lie when he cockily said one day that he was skilled with his tongue. Because he definitely was. And you could feel your thighs tremble and your moans elevating as Wooyoung pushed his tongue inside of you - it was like he knew exactly how to make you lose your mind. 

But you were doing a pretty good job at driving him crazy too. Your fingers pulling harshly on his strands of hair made Wooyoung buck his hips into nothing, in hope it would get him to feel the tiniest bit of friction. And how he could barely breathe with the way he was eating you out like a starved man only added to the rush of pleasure going through his body and straight to his cock.

“- Don’t fucking stop.”

Wooyoung moaned in approval against you, the vibration of his every sound making the knot in your stomach tighter. When he felt your legs start to give out, he sneaked his hands to your waist, holding you up as he buried his tongue as deep as he could into your cunt, and feeling you clench around him. He lapped at your juices as you tried to come down from your high, as if he hadn’t had enough. You pulled on his hair one more time, forcing him to detach himself from your pussy and look up at you - he seemed dizzy, his gaze unfocused, his hair a mess because of your hands and half of his face covered in your juices. 

“- Are you gonna behave now ?

- Depends. Will you slap me again if I don’t ?”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

kinktober taglist (dm or comment to be added) :

ateez taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@hann1bee @rockstrrrgf @lil-kpopstan @foxinnie8 @lovelyuyu @lala-----------lala @urlocal-user @seomisaho

@d-dilemma @bath1lda @anxiousskylar @mikaelless @leeknowinggg

[lovelyjj]

Just Doing My Job

Stuntman!JJ Maybank x Director!reader

requested by @thornyrose463

Being a movie director had its perks. You loved your job, you really did. You had all the power. You always had to make sure all the actors were good and all the technical aspects of the scene were good.

JJ was smitten. He had a massive crush on you. He was way to nervous to act on it though. JJ was a stuntman on the set you worked on. JJ was great at his job. He excelled at it. He was excited because he got to work with you everyday.

JJ was doing a particularly hard stunt. He had to fall from a tall height. JJ was a professional he had this in the bag. “Alright action,” you yelled. JJ fell and landed on an air mattress. “And cut.” “Very nicely done JJ,” you complimented.

“Thank you,” JJ replied. JJ’s next stunt was a car crash. The car was also going to explode. JJ knew it was going to be a little difficult but he knew he was going to nail it. You called out action and JJ preformed his stunt beautifully.

“Hey JJ, come here we’re gonna talk about the scene,” you called out to him.

JJ always got so flustered around you. He just got really nervous because you were so pretty and he thought so highly of you. “Okay.”

“So how do you think you did?”

“Oh um I-i i think i did okay, what did you think?” JJ asked.

“Well there’s some points I have to discuss with you but overall i think it went well.”

JJ was trying to get the nerve to ask you out. He just was so scared you would judge him. He also didn’t want to ruin the work relationship he had with you. He was already awkward enough he couldn’t imagine if things got even more awkward.

“Thank you,” JJ responded.

“Hey JJ, great job today. Get some rest for a good day tomorrow,” you ordered.

“Yes m’am.”

——————

The next work day went well. JJ wasn’t doing as many stunts as yesterday but he still had to be there because he was doing some stunts. You arrived early to get a jump start on the day. JJ watched you as you worked, not in a creepy way in an endearing way.

The work day trudged on. You did your job as director. Being the boss and directing the actors. After a while you told them to take 5. This is where JJ came up to you.

“Hey uh how are you?” JJ bit his lip nervously.

“I’m hanging in there,” you responded.

“Anything I can do to help?” JJ asked fiddling with his fingers.

“Oh no i’m good just working hard,” you smiled. JJ thought it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

JJ was trying to get the courage to talk to you more he was just so nervous. He was determined to ask you out the next time he saw you.

—————

JJ was back doing his stunts. It was the next work day and he was on fire. Literally. It was a new stunt for the movie and he was killing it. He was very good at his job and you were impressed. With his adrenaline from the stunt he found himself walking towards you.

After his scene he went up to you and nervously asked if he can have a word. Of course you said sure like it was the most easy thing to say.

Now JJ was scared because of the chance of possible rejection but also what would happen to your work relationship. He ultimately decided that it was worth it to even get the chance to ask you out.

“Um i was just wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime. Maybe we can go grab some coffee, i i don’t know only if you want to.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you grinned.

“Rrreally? you’d like too? you want to?”

“Yes of course.”

When you agreed on a day the two of you went out. JJ charmed you. He was a gentleman the whole time. And it was safe to say there will be a second date.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Somersaults and Stealing Hearts Part 1: Meeting the Coach✨

Coach! Joel Miller x gymnast! OFC

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @lotusbxtch and @alltheirdamn for beta reading for me, and for @mountainsandmayhem for helping hype me up! I’m really excited about this one ✨

Summary: Welcoming a new coach is no easy task, especially when Joel Miller steps through those doors with his stupid tousled curls and dark brown eyes.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 4.2k

Tags: Eventual smut, enemies to lovers type energy, bitter OFC, a hint of swooning, age gap (Madison is 24, Joel is 39), slow burn, pre!outbreak au

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Sunlight bursts through the glass windows of the Austin Gymnastics Club as chalk and sweat permeate through the air of the heated gym. The long balance beams seem to shine in the distance, and the white walls with gold medals and trophies in glass cases fill the extensive space. My calloused fingers are numb from the lengthy bar routine I just finished, and my lower back burns from the shaky dismount. I take a moment to breathe deep and fill my lungs with icy water, letting the chill cool the ache of fiery lungs.

   Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on deep breaths. Don’t think about the heartbreaking loss that’s about to happen.

   When I open my glossy eyes, I take a minute to compose myself. Losing Coach Carr is near devastating when regionals are in a little less than two months. How the fuck am I supposed to be ready when we’re getting a brand new coach who doesn’t know a thing about our routines or training schedule? 

   Ripping the water bottle from my tight grip, I find my way back onto the blue spring floor and decide to stretch my sore triceps. Wincing in pain, I groan, extending my arms overhead, feeling as if my muscles will split in half at any moment, but I’m used to it. It’s just part of a gymnast’s daily routine. No pain, no gain. 

   Senior year. Only a little over three months until I’m graduating with a bachelor’s degree in Kinesiology. Granted, I opted for online classes to focus on what’s really important. Gymnastics. It’s what I breathe, all I can think about day after day, and I won’t stop until I qualify for the Olympics. And Coach Carr should’ve been the one to help me get there, but those dreams were crushed like sand beneath the soles of my feet. Go figure. Nothing ever went my way. Especially after I lost my dad…

   Having to take a whole year off training and college was rough enough. And close to being twenty-five-years-old? Well, some of the girls still tortured me about it, whispering how I was too old, how I’d never make it. But they were wrong, and I’d prove it. 

   If they were gentle sheep, then I was a starving wolf. Out for blood. 

   Another deep sigh leaves my lips, and my shiny pink leotard feels extremely tight, almost like it’s squeezing the breath right out of my lungs. In the next moment, someone is hip checking me, and I almost topple over onto the mat from the unwelcome force. I glare in the direction of where the uncalled action came from, but I immediately drop my frown when I see it’s just my best friend, Cassie. 

   “Whoa, did you wake up on the wrong side of bed this morning? You’re awfully cranky,” she laughs as she presses down some dark flyaways from her tight bun and smoothes out her violet leotard with the back of her palms.

   “Sorry,” I grumble, letting my arms fall down to my sides in defeat. “I’m just on edge today with Coach Carr leaving.”

   Cassie blinks twice and looks up with sympathetic emerald eyes. “I know. I’m upset too, but what can we do? She’s already leaving, we can’t stop her now.”

   “Yeah, but why didn’t she at least wait until after regionals? You know how important that competition is. If we want to go to the national championships, then we have to bring our A-game,” I huff, stomping my heel into the squishy floor just to show how frustrated I am.

   “Ask her husband, he’s the one that got the new job in Denver. Maybe you can talk him into letting his wife stay just for you,” she laughs, pushing against my shoulder playfully to try to get me to lighten up, but it doesn’t work. “And it’s you, babe. You want to go to nationals, and you want to win that championship title. I’m just here to ride it out with you. You’ve got the heart of a lion in this gym. No way you aren’t getting that gold medal,” she says encouragingly. 

   I give her a fake smile and hip check her right back. “Says the girl who medaled at our last competition. You’re going with me, and that’s final,” I smile.

   “We’ll see about that,” she says with bright green eyes.

   The room lightens up a little bit as Cassie pulls some of the anger from my tense body, but it all comes crashing back down like shattering like glass the moment I see Coach Carr’s bubbly smile and long blonde hair swaying as she greets a man I don’t recognize by the glass door.

   I tip my head to the side and squint, hoping to get a better view of the mystery man with the tight-fitting white t-shirt and dark jeans that hug strong legs. “Who’s that?” I ask, hoping Cassie will have a clue as to who that might be.

   “I think that’s our new coach. Joel Miller,” she says, peeling her eyes over his broad body.

   “Who is he?” My voice comes out quieter, like I almost don’t want to know. Coach Carr never said anything about a male coach, and she definitely didn’t mention that he’d be older and so… handsome. 

   “Not too sure, but I’ve been hearing the other coaches talk lately. Heard he took his prior team all the way to nationals,” she voices, making my ears perk up at that.

   My eyes grow a little wider, and my back stiffens up at the mentions of nationals. “Nationals, huh? Then why isn’t he still there with that team?” Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, I try to study the tall man, as if I can see inside his mind.

   “Not sure,” she shrugs. “Guess he heard we were the best, and maybe it’s a better paid position? I don’t know, but Jesus. Do you see the biceps on that man? He’s hot. Maybe he can help me stretch… if you know what I mean,” she winks, curling a loose strand behind her ear as her eyes go starry.

   Oh, for the love of God. 

   “Cas, stop. You’re being gross.” I scrunch my nose in disgust and hit her lightly in the side of the shoulder. 

   “What? Like you don’t find him attractive? He’s ridiculously good looking. Just look at him,” she sighs dreamily, her eyes sparkling from the sunlight peeking through the windows.

   But I am looking at him. And whether I like it or not, he’s walking straight up to the spring floor with Coach Carr right at his heels, and he’s not too far from where I’m standing. 

   When he’s only a mere few feet from me, I notice how his biceps hug the soft fabric of his t-shirt and large veins spiral down his thick forearms, spidering along the backs of his rough hands, ending in strong fingers. I gulp when I see how devastating his dark brown eyes are. They’re almost like pure marble, smooth enough to sink into. And his hair. Thick, sandy brown with speckles of gray threading through his lush locks and his clipped beard. Cassie was right; he’s breathtaking.

   “Fuck yeah, bestie. He’s taking us all the way to nationals,” she whispers as a fit of giggles leave her pink lips. 

   I roll my eyes and seal my mouth shut, but I can’t help but keep sneaking secret glances at the man with pretty eyes. Cassie doesn’t need her big ego boosted to know she’s right. He is good looking, really good looking. But that doesn’t mean I’ll accept him here. Coach Carr is abandoning me right when I need her most. She was supposed to be there for regionals which would set me up for nationals. No way will I just accept a stranger, like he knows anything about my routines or moves. No. I’ll just give him the cold shoulder because I’m bitter about this whole stupid arrangement.

   “Girls, gather around! I’d like for you to meet someone.” She gestures to the mystery man and beams her white smile to the entire room. The rest of the gymnasts take their place on the spring floor and glance with anticipation at the newcomer. “This has been a super hard decision for me to leave you all, but I did my best to make sure you’ll be in good hands. So, girls, I’d like you to meet your new coach, Joel Miller.”

   All the girls’ eyes blow wide, and whispers flit around the room, echoing giggles and gossip that makes me silently groan. Some of them bat their long lashes, some fix their high ponytails and twirl the hair they can reach. Others just stare and gawk, letting their eyes roam the expanse of his broad body, and my stomach drops when I realize all my teammates are going to be swooning over our new coach. 

   I let my eyes rake over the spongy floor, dragging my heel over a piece of fuzz like it’ll get me out of this awkward situation. I don’t want a new coach, especially one that all the girls won’t stop talking about.

   “Now, you might’ve not heard of him before, but he’s coached a few varsity teams, and he even took the Oklahoma Sooners all the way to nationals, which I know is a dream for most of you,” she says proudly, her chin held high as some of the girls gasp and drop their jaws to the floor. 

   Great. Now I’ll have to hear their stupid lovesick mouths drag on about how handsome and talented he is. Give me a fucking break. 

   “Nationals? I want to go to nationals!” One of the girls shouts as she jumps up and down frantically, only stopping when Coach Carr tells her to settle down.

   “As do most of you, and I’m sure Coach Miller here will do just that,” she smiles wide, letting her long blonde hair fall over her light blue polo shirt. Joel sheepishly smiles and follows Coach Carr’s lead. “Okay, well let me go around the room and introduce you to all the girls. There’s quite a bit,” she laughs, glancing at me and the other eleven gymnasts.

   As she makes her way around the room slowly, I can’t help but tune the room out, making a small bubble in my mind where only my thoughts start to tick like the hanging clock above the front glass doors. 

   You can do this, just breathe. Don’t freak out, you’re only losing your most favorite coach in the entire world. I bite my lower lip and feel the sharp pain sink into my skin. 

   Breathe. 

   Just when I start to fade off into the soft blue tones in my mind, I hear my name being called loud and clear across the open room. I snap my eyes up frantically when Coach Carr says my name again. “And this is our shining star right here, Madison Summers. She’s the best of the best,” she smiles proudly, like I’ve just won her the gold medal.

   Joel shifts his weight to the left and folds his flexed arms over his broad chest, and I swear he’s about to rip right through that thin t-shirt. “Your shining star, s’that right?” he asks with a thick Southern drawl that floats through my eardrums like a sweet melody. 

   Fuck. Even his voice is charming. All deep and gravelly and annoyingly enthralling. It’s about to give me a damn headache at this rate.

   “Oh, yes,” she replies brazenly. “This girl right here has been bringing us home with first place titles since she started here. She’s the real deal, Miller. I think she might even take you all the way to nationals. Keep her on her toes.” She claps him on the back firmly, and a slow smile expands across his plush mouth, framing his dark mustache. His brown eyes flick over my body slowly like he’s assessing every single inch of me to make sure it’s true, and he parts his mouth like he wants to say something.

   Letting my hazel eyes fall to the ground, I adjust my position and keep my arms locked tight around my chest. Maybe I can hide from the red blush that’s building in my cheeks because now all the girls are staring at me with envy, and I despise being the center of attention. 

   When the sting of embarrassment starts to fade away, I hear him clear his throat. “Impressive. Guess we’ll jus’ have to see ‘bout nationals then. See jus’ what you bring to the floor, Shining Star,” he murmurs with a light voice that spouts off that deep, gravelly tone that makes my insides clench.

   Shining Star. The nickname makes the little light blonde hairs on my neck stand straight up and has my crimson cheeks flushed. He needs to stop.

   I slowly lift my chin, and then my eyes meet his straight on. Butterflies flit through the pit of my stomach for just a second when his amber colored irises stay locked on mine. He gives me a once over, one eyebrow lifted as if I’ve piqued his interest, and that’s the last thing I want to be right now because these girls will give me hell about it.

   Averting my eyes back to the floor to escape that growing tension in the air, I listen to Coach Carr go on about how she’s letting Joel take the reins. I can still feel his dark eyes honing in on me, and the room suddenly feels like the Texas summer heat, stifling and insufferable. I don’t care what it takes, but I will not think of Coach Miller as anything other than my coach. He may be handsome as hell, but there’s no way I’m going to simp like a lovesick puppy over him like every other girl in this gym. 

   Katelyn’s piercing blue eyes find mine in an instant when I finally find the strength to look up. Her painted red lips are pursed, and her high cheekbones look like they could cut straight through glass with the way she’s glaring. Her too-tight, sparkly white leotard shows off her curvy figure, and I know she’s already jealous of the attention I’m getting. 

   Great. Just great. That’s the last thing I wanted to happen. She already hates my guts; why did Coach Carr have to make it worse? 

   I concentrate back on the fabric of the ocean blue floor and pray it’ll swallow me whole. Cassie places a comforting palm on my shoulder and nudges me to see if I’m alright. I give her a tight-lipped smile and again pretend. So much for not feeling overwhelmed and anxious today. 

   Joel’s voice booms through the room, and my hesitant eyes slowly shift back up to him as he paces the floor and looks out to the sea of eager gymnasts. “Alright, ladies. Coach Carr here has given me a rundown of some of your routines, but I’d like to jus’ walk around the room today and get a feel for them and how your practices usually go. She was kind enough to let me scope the team out a few weeks ago. And I will say, I was very impressed. Some more than others.” His eyes shift to find mine, and I suddenly feel like a deer in the headlights. Blindsighted and paralyzed. He’ll surely collide right into me at the worst possible time when I don’t even see him coming.

   He’s been at practice before? He’s watched me specifically? Oh, shit. 

   Some of the other girls giggle, but I stand frozen like a mouse caught in a trap. How can Coach Carr leave me alone with him? He’ll have me losing my balance over a simple split jump on the balance beam. But I won’t let that happen. Not a chance because I’m going to ice him out, just like I planned to do before I even knew he’d be the new coach. 

   “Okay, girls. I do have to get going, I'm afraid, but please be respectful to Coach Miller. He is a very good coach, and I expect you all to be on your best behaviors.” She gives all the girls a knowing look that says don’t test her, and then she makes her way over to me as some of the girls disperse around the gym.

   “Ahh, my favorite athlete,” she smiles as she pulls me in for a tight squeeze. I breathe in her lemon perfume and memorize what it feels like to be embraced by her because I won’t have any more warm hugs after this. I’ll only have rough hands that maybe high five me for landing a double tuck on the mat, if that. 

   I squeeze her right back and hold on for dear life. “Please, don’t go. I need you,” I whine, afraid tears might run down my cheeks when I watch her walk out that door one last time.

   “I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I hate leaving you, but you know I’ll be there for Regionals.” She gathers my hands in hers and squeezes gently. I feel the sting of fresh tears in the back of my eyes, and they start to gloss over. 

   “Hey, now,” she reassures me. “You’re going to be just fine without me. You have a great coach to take over my spot now.” She smiles warmly, but it doesn’t quite meet her bright blue eyes.

   “But it’s not you. You promised to take me all the way to Nationals,” I pout, letting my bottom lip jut out as a cold tear slips free.

   “Hey, no tears now. Everything will be okay. And I know I promised, but marriage and Eric’s new job just got in the way. I can’t tell you how sorry I truly am, but I still believe in you. You’ve got this, and Joel will take you to Nationals. I know he will.” 

   My eyes flick to him subtly, and I huff out a long sigh as my eyes start to narrow into thin slits. Joel wouldn’t take me to nationals. It was never his job to, and I sure as hell don’t want to put my faith in a new coach I know almost nothing about. I don’t care how good looking he is; he’s not my coach. 

   Coach Carr quickly picks up on my building anger and irritation to the whole situation, so she steers me back to look her dead in the eyes. “Hey, be nice. I don’t want you giving him trouble just because you’re upset,” she warns with a stern look written over her serious face. 

   “Who said I was going to give him trouble?” I scoff, kicking my heel into the blue padding of the floor like that will do me any good.

   “Madison Summers!” She says my full name sharply like a mother would when their child is getting scolded, and her grip tightens on my hands. “Now, I know you very well. And I know when you’re upset. You can be upset with me, but please don’t take it out on him. He’s only here to help you reach your dreams, and I have no doubt that he’ll do just that. So give him a chance, for my sake. I wouldn’t leave you to someone I didn’t trust.”

   I bite my lower lip and nod, turning my gaze back to Joel as he focuses on Giselle’s uneven bar routine, watching the way her sparkly red leotard shimmers in the glistening sunlight that melts through the glass windows. Sighing heavily, I agree to obey her wishes, “Okay, I guess I can try to play nice.”

   She gives me a quick hug and squeezes tightly. “That’s my girl.” I let the warm comfort envelop me fully, remembering the scent of spearmint gum and lemon perfume. A smell I’ll soon only remember in my fading memory. 

   With one more hug, she sends her best wishes to me and says goodbye to the other girls, and then she’s just gone. A vacant ghost that’s disappeared into her new life. 

   A life that I won’t be in.

   I watch the glass window like she’ll come back, like she was just kidding about leaving the entire time, but every second the clock ticks tells me she’s gone. And now I have to suffer without her. First it was my dad, now my favorite coach…

   Dragging my feet on the thick carpet, I hold my head high and decide to focus on my balance beam routine today. I’ve been struggling with sticking my landings lately, and I need to focus.

   Blocking out all the blaring music in the gym, I pull my head together and spend the next couple of hours perfecting my routine. Firm arms, chin up, jump high, dazzle the crowd, smile. But it’s hard faking a smile when my favorite coach just left me in the dust to deal with him. Coach Miller, the bane of my existence.

   Pushing him clear out of my mind, I find my center and complete a back handspring, back tuck combination, throwing all my rolling emotions into quick motions. I think I have it but when I land, I find that I nearly get knocked off my center and almost go crashing down to the blue mat that sits beneath me. 

   Shit. Almost had it.

   “Tuck your knees and point your toes harder.” The deep voice nearly takes me over the edge of the chalky beam.

   “What?” I whisper out, looking up under my thick lashes, right at Joel fucking Miller.

   “Tuck your knees more next time. It’ll speed up your rotation, and you’ll land solid. Pointin’ your toes harder will give you quicker and sharper movements. And remember, presentation is everything.” He leans against the white wall steadily, right next to one of the chalk stands and carelessly taps his index finger against his tanned forearm.  

   “My rotation was just fine,” I sneer.

   “Could be quicker,” he defaults back quickly.

   “I was quick enough,” I snap.

   “Is that why you almost fell after your back tuck?” He tilts his head and gives me a contemplative look that dares me to challenge him. I bite my tongue in response and stare right into his big brown eyes, not saying a word.

   God. Those fucking eyes.

    “Jus’ try again,” he presses, his eyes fixed on me. I purse my lips and dig my hands into my hips, standing my ground as the balance beam becomes my rock. I don’t want to try again. At least not when he’s looking and has his eyes glued on every single move I make. I could’ve figured it out on my own how to perfect my landing.I don’t need him.

   “I don’t got all day. The clock’s tickin’.” He points to the black military style watch on his left wrist and keeps his large arms glued across his chest, his thick eyebrows threading together like he expects me to fire off another sharp response.

   I huff and get back into position, my toes pointed and resting right on the edge. I take one quick glance his way and then jolt my body backwards. With my toes pointed hard, almost sharp as a pencil, I flip into a back handspring, my fingers meeting the beam for just a second, and then I jump hard and high. Making sure to tuck my knees deeper into my chest, I flip into a back tuck easily. Every rotation seems sharper and faster, much better than the sluggish one I just did before. And before I know it, I’m landing perfectly on the balance beam, not even a single wobble flows through my body as I stick the landing.

   Joel’s eyebrows raise, and the hint of a proud smirk shadows his mouth. I want to wipe that stupid smirk off his face because I know just what he’s thinking. He was right all along. “What’d I tell ya? Perfect landin’. Maybe you should listen to me after all, huh? Think I might know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

   I roll my eyes and cross my arms firmly over my chest, standing with full attention on the balance beam. “I could’ve figured it out on my own.”

   “You’re a stubborn thing, ain’t ya?” he chuckles, shaking his head as silver threads and sandy brown curls tousle with every movement he makes. His eyes are basically milk chocolate, the way they glitter in the sunlight when he’s laughing. And I fucking hate it.

   “Apparently,” I shrug, giving him a stern look while I lick my tongue against my bottom teeth aggressively. 

   “We’ll jus’ have to work on that then, won’t we?” He tips his head my way and pushes off the wall, flexing his rock hard biceps as he waltzes away with a stupid grin spread across his mouth. 

   I clench my fists at my sides and dig my heels into the firm balance beam, trying my best to keep my wits about me. Stupid Coach Miller and his sly remarks. 

   Stubborn thing, ain’t ya. I scoff at the statement. Of course I’m stubborn. If he thinks he’ll get on my good side and tear down my walls then he’s sadly mistaken. I won’t budge. No. I’ll just have to show him how much more stubborn I can be.

   This isn’t his gym. This is mine. And I plan to make that very clear.

[faretheeoscar]

Commander Dameron & Captain Fluff

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Notes: This post contains a baby Poe Dameron story and a Baby Poe bot inspired on my writing to play with!

No warnings, all fluff *badum tss*, slight angst at the end, this story happens roughly around a year before Poe loses his mom 😥, the first order wasn't stablished at this point of the star wars story, the remanants of the empire were still around.

A/N: English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there’s any mistakes.

Word Count: 2k~

Poe had been busying himself for the past hour before sleep time, getting ready for his next mission, his room, or, as he liked to call it, “the rebel command base.” Was mostly a cozy space with toys, books, and blankets, but today, it had transformed into a high-tech cockpit in the heart of the galaxy. Poe’s bed had become the control panel, and every pillow around him was a part of his imaginary X-wing.

At the center of it all was Poe himself, 6-year-old pilot extraordinaire, ready to take on the remnants of the Galactic Empire. Wearing his favourite pilot pyjamas, and little pilot helmet, he had by his side his faithful co-pilot, Captain Fluff—his tooka doll, that was made by none other than the person he loved the most on this galaxy, his mother, celebrating the colours of the rebellion, orange and white, and also Poe’s favourites. Together, they were ready to save the galaxy.

“Alright, Captain Fluff!” Poe, with his little proud leading voice turned his head around to give his doll a serious nod. “Systems are a go!” He tapped the edge of his bed with imaginary buttons, making a few beep and bloop sounds with his mouth. Then, gripping his “steering stick”—a makeshift cube out of carton he painted with the help of his dad—Poe prepared for liftoff.

“Engines roaring!” he muttered, making a deep, growling noise in his throat to mimic the sound of his ship’s thrusters. “Powering up!” He twisted his stick to the right, leaning his whole body to the side as if he were really taking off. “And... we’re airborne!”

Swooshing into the sky, Poe imagined the mission ahead of him. “Captain Fluff, TIE fighters up ahead!” he shouted with urgency, looking at the far corner of his room where he could almost see the enemy ships closing in on them. “The Empire is catching up, but they don’t stand a chance against us!”

Poe leaned left, pretending to dodge a volley of imaginary lasers. “Hold on tight, Captain! Shields up!” He could feel the intensity of the battle as he twisted the controllers with all his might, making “vroom vroom” sounds as he imagined himself manoeuvring through space. “We gotta go faster if we want to get outta here, send all the power to the back thrusters” he said, his voice becoming loud and energetic as he stood up and bounced on his bed.

His gaze narrowed as he spotted a particular “enemy” ship. “Look! There’s the lead TIE fighter!” He pointed at the empty spot in the room, eyes widening with excitement. “That’s the one that’s been causing all the trouble! Let’s take it down, Captain!”

With a determined and loud “pew pew!” Poe pretended to fire at the enemy ship. He cheered, bouncing excitedly on his knees as he added a few more sound effects. “Direct hit! We got ’em, Captain!” He grinned, reaching over to high-five his tooka doll little paw. “Great shot, partner! The Alliance and New Republic are counting on us, and we’re not letting them down!”

As Poe continued his daring space battle, fully immersed in his mission to take down the Empire, he didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approaching his room. His father, Kes, stood in the doorway, arms folded with an amused smile, watching his son’s serious little face as he dodged imaginary lasers and manoeuvred his X-wing around the “battlefield.” Kes stayed silent for a few moments, letting Poe play and have the thrill of his heroic mission for a little bit longer.

But eventually, Kes cleared his throat and spoke up. “Looks like the galaxy’s safest it’s been in a long time with you around, Poe.”

Poe gasped, spinning around on his bed with wide eyes, not expecting his dad to be standing there. “Dad! Did you see? We just took down the whole Empire fleet!” He beamed, holding up Captain Fluff as if to prove his achievement. “Captain Fluff and I—we’re the best team in the Alliance!”

Kes chuckled as he walked into the room, taking in the "cockpit" Poe had set up on his bed—pillows arranged like seats, a makeshift steering stick, and, of course, Captain Fluff the tooka doll stationed by Poe's side. He nodded approvingly, hands on his hips. "I see you've got things all set up here. And I’d say you and Fluff are two of the finest pilots out there. But even the best pilots need their rest if they want to be ready for their next mission." He raised an eyebrow, giving Poe a knowing look. "So, what do you say, Captain? Time to head back to base?”

Poe’s face grew serious, his smile fading as he clutched his steering stick a little tighter. “Dad, I’m the Commander, remember? Fluff is the Captain,” he corrected, puffing his chest out proudly.

Kes held up his hands in surrender, trying to hide a smile. “My apologies, Commander. Didn’t realise you’d been promoted, but like I said, it's time to rendezvous and call off the mission for today.”

He clutched his makeshift steering stick a little tighter, shaking his head. “But, Dad! What if they come back? We have to be ready!” He glanced at his tooka doll with a serious expression, then back up at his dad. “The galaxy’s counting on us!”

Kes smiled and sat down at the edge of the bed, looking at Poe with soft eyes. “And the galaxy will still be here when you wake up, I promise. The best pilots know when it’s time to refuel and rest up for the next big fight. That’s how your mom does it, you know.”

Poe’s eyes lit up at the mention of his mom, Shara. He glanced down thoughtfully, still holding his steering stick. “Really? Do you think… one day I’ll be as good a pilot as Mom?” he asked, his voice soft, the bravery in his expression wavering for a moment as he looked up at his dad.

Kes placed a reassuring hand on Poe’s shoulder. “I think you’re already showing a lot of the same bravery she has. You’ve got a good heart, Poe, and you’ll do great things, just like your mom. And who knows? One day, maybe you’ll lead the fight yourself, but then again it's time to shut the engines.”

Poe’s face brightened with pride, although he wasn’t quite ready to let go of his mission yet. He looked at Kes, brows furrowing, the Dameron stubbornness making an appearance. “But what if they need me tonight, Dad? I’m ready to go back out there!” 

Kes chuckled, reaching out to gently take Poe’s “steering stick” from his hands. “I’m sure Captain Fluff can handle the night watch while you rest,” he said, tucking the tooka doll into the small box of the “cockpit controllers” as if assigning it a special duty. “And besides, if you don’t sleep, you won’t have the energy to take down twice as many TIE fighters tomorrow.”

Poe looked at Captain Fluff, considering it for a moment. He still felt a pull to stay up, to be the hero, but he couldn’t argue with the idea of being even stronger for tomorrow’s missions. With a little sigh, he glanced back up at Kes. “Alright, I guess he can keep patrol,” he said, reluctantly, puffing air out in disappointment, as he allowed his dad to take his helmet off of his head and pull the covers up around him.

Kes smiled, and ruffled his son's sweet curls, finally letting him settle into bed. “Alright, Goodnight, Commander Dameron.”

Kes got up to leave the little command centre, but before he reached the door Poe called out to him softly, “Dad?”

“Yes, Poe?”

Poe hesitated, looking down at his hands now nervously bunching up the covers towards himself, then back up at his dad. “Do you think… do you think Mom’s gonna come back soon?”

Kes felt a familiar pang in his heart, one he tried his best to hide, he had promised himself he would never preoccupy his little 6 year old with his own fears, the fears that came with an uprising battle ahead, with the remnants of the Empire getting stronger, the whispers of a new order taking form... 

Walking back to Poe’s bedside, he knelt down, meeting his son’s gaze. “I know she’ll be back as soon as she can, buddy. She’s on an important mission, just like the ones you have here.” He reached out to cup his son’s rosy cheeks, which had warmed up as his little bottom lip trembled at the uncertainty of the whereabouts of his mother “But, hey, cheer up flyboy, I just know she misses you just as much as you miss her, know that she’s probably thinking about you too.”

Poe nodded softly, his big, searching eyes fixed on his father’s face, letting the words sink in. He’d been missing his mom so much, but he remembered the promise he’d made to her to stay strong while she was away. Taking a deep breath, Poe steadied himself, swallowing down the tears that threatened to spill. He was determined to be brave—just like her.

“Do you think she’d be proud of my training?” He glanced around at the “command center” he’d set up in his room. “I wanna show her I can be just as good as her when she gets back.”

Kes’s face softened, a deep pride and love shining in his eyes. He reached out, gently taking Poe’s hands on his. “Poe, your mom would be incredibly proud of you. You know why?”

Poe tilted his head, curious. “Why?”

“Because you’re brave, just like her. And you’re training hard, doing your best, every day. That’s what it means to be a great pilot—and to be a great person, you have natural leadership skills.I think you’re making her proud right now, and you’re also making me proud, son.” Kes poked the dimples on his face making Poe giggle.

Even if Poe’s little face lit up and a warm blush came to his cheeks again thanks to his father’s praise. He still looked reluctant to settle down. He squirmed a little under the covers, glancing at his makeshift X-wing cockpit, and the controllers on his bedside table as though still itching to jump back in and fly one more mission, just to be ready when his mom would come back.

Kes leaned over to turn off the small BB-Unit shaped lamp on Poe’s nightstand. But just as he reached for it, Poe’s little hand shot out, stopping him.

“Wait!” Poe stopped him quickly. “Don’t turn it off.”

Kes raised an eyebrow, hiding the little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh? And why’s that, Flyboy? I thought we were already past that era of sleeping with the lights on.”

Poe blushed again, but he quickly thought of an inventive excuse to give his dad and sat up a bit, his voice lowering as if he were letting his dad in on a classified mission detail. “It's just in case I need it for an emergency, you know? What if there’s, like… an important mission? I might need a quick escape plan. And BB-8’s light… it’s, you know, trusty, also it guides Fluff’s flight.”

Kes let out a soft laugh, clearly charmed. He nodded with an expression of mock seriousness. “Ah, of course. I’d hate to leave the best pilots without proper emergency lighting.”

Poe grinned, glad that his dad "had bought" his story, settling back against his pillow. “Exactly. BB-8, Fluff and I have to have everything ready.”

Kes reached over, giving Poe’s small hand a reassuring squeeze. “Then I’ll leave BB-8 also on duty for the night. Just make sure you get some rest too, Commander. ”

Poe’s face softened, his eyelids beginning to droop as he nestled further under the covers. Kes tucked the blankets up to his chin, then leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Goodnight, son,” he whispered. “Sweet dreams, and may the force be with you.”

“Goodnight, Dad,” Poe murmured, a sleepy smile forming on his face. He glanced once more at his makeshift cockpit, BB-8’s warm glow casting a soft circle of light over his room. “May the force be with you too.”

With one more affectionate pat on Poe’s head, Kes rose to his feet. But just as he reached the doorway, Poe called to him one last time.

“Dad?”

Kes turned back, smiling gently, this kid was never gonna go to sleep. “Yes, Poe?”

“When Mom gets back... will you tell her I’m ready to be her co-pilot?”

Kes’s smile grew, and he nodded. “I’ll tell her that, Poe. Now get some sleep, my little hero.”

Kes gave one last look at his son, as he stepped out and quietly closed the door, leaving Poe dreaming under the steady, watchful glow of BB-8 and Captain Fluff.

Poe’s eyes grew heavy, but before he drifted off, he turned around and looked one last time at Captain Fluff, whispering to his little buddy.

“Tomorrow, we’ll be ready for Mom.”

Yes, I know, slighty angsty at the end, but Poe is a mama's boy and I couldn't help myself!

HAPPY POEVEMBER!

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments are kindly appreciated!

@winniethewife, @silvernight-m, @midgardian-witch, @ominoose, @femmeanonymelives

[githjanken]

i’m seeing a lot of fear today about Tumblr Shutting Down (Real) (Actually True) today and let peepaw seg tell you a story

i’ve been on this webbed site for fifteen years, believe it or not, since way back in the days of Tumblarity. now i was but a wee lad at the time, so i don’t remember the fine details, but rest assured, it doesn’t matter much for the story i’m about to tell you.

you see, i remember when tumblr was owned by tumblr. folk called its ceo (david karp) “daddy”, and were enthusiastic about his communications, even if on our own blogs, we’d bitch and moan about tumblr making changes to things we were used to. i remember the hubbub when tumblr removed tumblarity, and how this was surely going to be the end of tumblr.

all those fifteen (though it might be sixteen) years ago.

layouts changed, and we’d bitch and moan, and tumblr’d get sold, and we’d know for sure that This Was The End Of Tumblr, For Real This Time. this happened again and again and again, because this webbed site, you see, it makes no money, and companies, greedy things as they are, like money.

the porn ban, under the reign of YaHoo that was, was seen as another death knell. tumblr was going to die, for real, for sure, and i’m not proud to say that i was one of the ones who fell for it. peepaw seg needed to sow hir wild oats on other platforms.

now, i say this happened under yahoo, but it’s important to remember that this ban came in the wake of both the apple app store banning the tumblr app on account of real life csem being hosted on tumblr, and the new usamerican law SESTA-FOSTA being implemented, which made it so that companies such as tumblr would have to moderate the explicit content on them to make sure none of it breached sesta-fosta. tumblr, being a small fish in the grand scheme of thing, didn’t warrant that amount of financial effort on yahoo’s part, as the site was still not making any money, and it’s easier and cheaper to blanket ban than it is to moderate. all this to say, it’s important to vote, because if you don’t, your internet freedom will be curtailed.

and now we’re here, some sixteen years on, and i’ll say automattic has been not all good, but definitely not all bad for the site. they changed stuff we liked to our discontent (layouts), and added stuff we hated (live), but they also gave us stuff we like (polls) and an amount of open communication about tumblr’s inner workings not seen since the days of david “daddy” karp. and now they’re putting just a skeleton crew on the tumblr project.

and that’s going to be The End Of Tumblr For Sure For Real Actually This Time. Really. Promise. Abandon Ship.

and we come to the crux of this story.

which is that this has happened before, and it will happen again, because tumblr is surprisingly immune to making any money.

what we’re likely to see in the coming time is no new features (that’s reserved for projects that make money), and an increase in ads, until one day, and this might be in a few months, and maybe in a few years, there’ll be an announcement that tumblr’s been sold to one direction to a new company.

and we’ll start the whole rigmarole again. and this company might be good for tumblr’s userbase, or it might go against everything the tumblr community holds dear. no way of knowing which way it’ll go.

until one day, some parent company will have had enough, and will pull the plug.

but for now… well, i’m gonna sit here on my porch (blog), and we’ll see what happens. i'm not worried, tumblr’s survived worse things.

[mcflymemes]

THE EMPEROR'S NEW GROOVE (2000) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

how shall i do it?

oh, is that hard to believe?

is this really the best you could do?

check out this piece of work.

i'm here because i received a summons.

word on the street is you can fix my problem.

the drinks were a bit on the warm side.

okay, i admit it. maybe i wasn’t as nice as i should have been.

do you really want to kill me?

so is everything ready for tonight?

i thought we’d start off with a soup and a light salad, and then see how we feel after that.

we’re about to go over a huge waterfall.

bring it on.

you got all that, honey?

what about dinner?

all right. a quick cup of coffee.

but what does that have to do with anything?

you’re sort of confusing me.

how did you get back here before us?

by all accounts, it doesn’t make sense.

i never liked your spinach puffs.

ah. should have seen that coming.

you know what, you could have told me that before i set it up.

now you stop being hard on yourself. all is forgiven.

it’s not the first time i was tossed out of a window, and it won’t be the last.

what can i say? i’m a rebel.

i can’t believe this is happening!

break the door down!

are you kidding me? this is hand-carved mahogany.

so you lied to me.

couldn’t pull the wool over your eyes, huh.

why did i risk my life for a selfish brat like you?

i was always taught that there was some good in everyone, but, oh, you proved me wrong.

now i feel really bad.

you threw off my groove!

he didn’t pay his check.

this had better be good!

this is the last time we take directions from a squirrel.

yeah, like that would ever happen.

will you take a look at this?

oh, is that hard to believe?

just thought i’d give you a heads up.

what do you mean the door’s stuck? try jiggling the handle.

you’re the criminal mastermind here, not me.

just leave me alone.

it’s my birthday gift to me. i’m so happy.

hey, it doesn’t always have to be about you.

uh, he doesn’t really wanna talk to you.

hey, did you see that sky today? talk about blue.

don’t drink the wine.

our moment of triumph approaches!

oh, he’s doing his own theme music.

i’m so glad i was unconscious for all of this.

you’re not just gonna let him die like that, are you?

don’t listen to that guy.

if it were me, i’d march right back there and demand to see him.

you just saved my life!

believe it or not, i think i need a bath.

maybe i’m just new to this whole rescuing thing, but this, to me, might be considered kind of a step backwards.

i ate a bug today!

what is this guy babbling about?

i’ll be sure to tell him you stopped by.

i gotta go wash something.

anything sounds bad when you say it with that attitude.

let me guess, you have a great personality.

thanks for going back on your promise!

how long has that been there?

someday you’re gonna wind up all alone, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.

hmm. don’t know, don’t care. how’s that?

for the last time, it was not a kiss.

[latenightreadingpdf]

Behind the Scenes - Tom Ryder

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: When notorious actor Tom Ryder gets a new makeup artist, he’s unprepared for Y/N’s sunny attitude and refusal to tolerate his usual antics. She’s determined to break through his tough exterior, no matter how difficult he makes it.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The hair and makeup department was buzzing with the usual morning chaos, with stylists and artists weaving between racks of costumes and shelves of beauty products. Tom Ryder, the lead actor of Metalstorm, was, as always, taking his time. His co-stars had already been prepped and were ready on set, but Tom? He was still in his trailer, lost in what he called his "mental preparation."

In her corner of the makeup department, Kendall paced anxiously, phone clutched to her ear. “No, seriously, if he doesn’t get here soon, I don’t know what we’re going to do. They’re already way behind schedule—"

The door swung open just then, and Tom strolled in with a lazy grin, a relaxed contrast to Kendall's obvious frustration. Her eyes widened as she took in his calm expression. “Oh my god, he’s finally here," she muttered to the person on the other end of the line before abruptly hanging up. She took a steadying breath, then turned to him with a stern glare. “Tom, where were you? You’re insanely late. We’re super behind schedule, and—”

Tom rolled his eyes, waving a hand as if shooing away a fly. “Relax, Kendall. Stop freaking out. It’s not like they’re filming anything important without me.” He leaned back in the chair, tilting his head slightly toward his phone and scrolling through his messages, barely paying attention to her.

Kendall bit down on her lip, holding back her retort as her hand subtly tightened around a makeup brush. She didn’t want to cry in front of him—she refused to give him that satisfaction. Instead, she got to work, brushing powder over his skin and dabbing concealer under his eyes, all while he stayed glued to his phone.

“Tom, can you tilt your head up a little, please?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm. He sighed, tilting his head barely a fraction of an inch, as if she’d just asked him to climb a mountain.

Eventually, she finished, releasing a breath of relief as she set down her brush. “Alright, you’re good to go.”

Without so much as a glance in her direction, he stood up, adjusted his jacket, and strode out of the makeup room, leaving her standing there in stunned silence. As the door swung shut behind him, Kendall muttered under her breath, "I can't do this anymore."

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Tom strutted onto the set with his usual air of invincibility, his chin high and a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. As usual, his tardiness had disrupted the flow of the morning, and the rest of the cast and crew had spent the last half hour impatiently waiting on him, trying to film some scenes without him. Jody, the assistant director, spotted him right away and stormed over, her frustration etched into every line of her face.

“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded, her arms crossed so tightly that her knuckles were white.

Tom looked at her with a lazy smile, as though amused by her annoyance. “The makeup artist took forever. Honestly, she’s just not great at her job. Slowed the whole process down.”

Jody’s eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t even try it, Tom. I know you were late getting to makeup. Everyone else was ready on time, and you were in your trailer. You can’t put this on her.”

Tom sighed dramatically, as if he was a child. He rolled his eyes and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. “I needed a bit more time this morning. Had to mentally prepare for today’s scenes, you know? Takes a little more than just rolling out of bed.”

“Whatever. Just get in position,” she said, exasperated, gesturing to his mark. Tom rolled his eyes and sauntered to his spot, transforming into his character effortlessly as the cameras began rolling. By the time he was done, everyone knew why he was still around—he might be a colossal pain, but he was a damn good actor.

Later, after filming wrapped for the day, Tom returned to his trailer, going through his nightly skincare routine with meticulous care. He was just about to apply his favorite serum when there was a loud, insistent knock at the door. He frowned, feeling an unwelcome stab of irritation. Who has the nerve to interrupt my nightly routine? I’m Tom Ryder, for god’s sake.

Ignoring it at first, he dabbed another dot of serum onto his fingertips, but the knocking continued. Huffing, he finally set the bottle down and opened the door, only to find Jody standing there, looking furious.

Before he could say a word, she stormed inside, barely looking at him as she shut the door behind her. “What did you do to Kendall?”

Tom arched an eyebrow, leaning against the counter with a look of nonchalance. “What do you mean? I did you a favor. She wasn’t very good. Slow, whiny—she couldn’t keep up with what I need on set.”

Jody clenched her jaw, clearly biting back a retort. She took a slow breath before speaking, her voice tight. “Well, you got what you wanted, Tom. Kendall just quit. She walked out.”

He shrugged, entirely unaffected. “Good. Find someone who can handle it, then. It’ll be better for everyone.”

Jody’s gaze was icy. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re not doing anyone any favors here. Now I have to find a replacement, someone willing to put up with your attitude, before we start filming tomorrow.” She shook her head, almost as if she couldn’t believe his arrogance.

She muttered to herself as she paced in front of him, running her hands down her face. “I’ll call Y/N… she’s great at makeup, and she’s always there when I need her. I just hope she’s free.”

Tom watched her with mild curiosity, his arms crossed. Y/N? He couldn’t remember her, but that wasn’t surprising; he barely noticed anyone on set who wasn’t directly involved in his scenes. Still, he couldn’t resist a slight smirk as Jody turned back to him, her face set with determination.

“You will treat her better than you did Kendall. Y/N is a close friend of mine, and she’s a damn good artist. She doesn’t deserve to deal with your crap.”

Tom gave an indifferent shrug, his expression one of practiced disinterest. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, barely listening as Jody stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

As soon as she was gone, he rolled his eyes and turned back to his vanity, the conversation already fading from his mind. With a satisfied hum, he returned to his skincare routine, dabbing the serum across his skin, already envisioning how he’d command the set the next day—new makeup artist or not.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The next morning, Jody waited outside Tom’s trailer, tapping her foot impatiently as she watched him emerge with his phone already glued to his hand. He didn’t even notice her as he strolled out, scrolling with a lazy smirk, clearly thinking he’d have another leisurely morning to himself.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Jody muttered, stepping in front of him. She grabbed his arm and steered him toward the makeup trailer, ignoring his grunt of protest.

“Jody, come on, what’s the rush?” he drawled, barely lifting his eyes from his phone.

“The rush,” she said, pulling him close as they walked, “is that you’re meeting your new makeup artist, who I personally asked to cover for Kendall. So you’re going to be nice, polite, and actually cooperate this time. Got it?” Her voice dropped to a whisper-yell. “Don’t blow this.”

He glanced sideways at her, giving a half-hearted smirk. “Alright, alright. I’ll play nice. It’s just makeup, Jody.”

Jody rolled her eyes, unconvinced. As they reached the makeup trailer, she took a deep breath before opening the door. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and welcoming, the lights soft and cozy. And there you were, arranging your supplies with an infectious energy that radiated through the room.

As soon as you spotted Jody, a wide smile lit up your face, and you squealed, “Jody!” practically bouncing over to hug her.

Jody laughed, hugging you back tightly, though she felt a small pang of guilt for what she was about to put you through. You were a bright spot on any set, always bringing kindness and positivity wherever you went. And now… she was introducing you to Tom.

You pulled back from the hug, and Jody cleared her throat, gesturing to Tom. “Y/N, meet Tom Ryder.”

Tom didn’t stop scrolling on his phone, muttering, clearly uninterested in the conversation.

Jody’s eyes narrowed as she jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, forcing him to lift his gaze for a moment. He looked at you for barely a split second, giving the faintest of nods. “Hey.”

Your smile didn’t waver, you shrugged off his lack of enthusiasm, unfazed, and turned to Jody who’s giving you a look that says I’m so sorry about him.

“Don’t worry, Jody. I can handle him.” You winked.

Jody raised an eyebrow. “If he gives you any trouble, be as mean as you want. Seriously.”

“Oh, it’ll be fine,” you said, your tone light and bubbly as always. “But thanks for the permission.”

With that, Jody gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and headed out, casting one last warning glance at Tom as she left. The door clicked shut, and suddenly, the quiet felt heavier.

Tom settled into the chair, his attention fully on his phone as you gathered your brushes and supplies, humming a soft tune to yourself. You glanced at him, trying to figure out the best approach to doing his makeup.

“Alright, Tom,” you said in a cheerful tone. “Can you lift your head for me?”

He sighed, tilting his head up just enough for you to start working, his eyes still glued to his screen. Within seconds, though, his head started to drift back down as he got absorbed in whatever he was reading. You gently reminded him, “Head up, please?”

Another sigh, this one more exasperated. He tilted his head up again, only for it to droop a moment later.

You paused, trying to stay patient, but it was clear this was going to be a pattern. Your gaze flicking to his phone as he scrolled, oblivious to how difficult he was making it to do your job. You cleared your throat and, keeping your tone light, asked, “Could you maybe put your phone down for a minute? Just so I can work a little easier?”

He didn’t look up, only muttering, “No. Just stop talking to me and do your job.”

Alright, time to switch tactics. You stepped back slightly, still using your sweetest voice, you say, “How about this: if you put down your phone until I’m done, I won’t tell Jody you’re being a complete pain in the ass.”

His head shot up, a flash of surprise crossing his face. He looked at you, almost like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. No one, aside from Jody, ever spoke to him that way—certainly not someone on the crew. He stared at you, trying to figure out if you were serious, but the gentle challenge in your gaze made it clear you weren’t backing down.

After a moment, he shrugged and set his phone down on the counter, folding his hands in his lap with a small scowl. He wasn’t thrilled about it, but the idea of Jody getting on his case wasn’t worth the trouble.

“Thank you,” you said, your smile brightening even more, as if he’d just given you a bouquet of flowers. Tom blinked, caught off-guard by the warmth in your expression. Pretty, he thought, the word popping unbidden into his mind. He almost felt the edges of a smile tugging at his own lips, but he quickly shoved the thought away, settling into a blank stare instead.

You wanted to talk with him but decided against it, not wanting to push your luck, focusing on your task with quiet dedication. You moved with practiced ease, brushing powder over his skin, blending and smoothing each line with a gentle touch. Occasionally, you would hum a bit, a soft melody that filled the silence without overwhelming it. Tom found himself oddly… relaxed.

When you finally set down the brush and stepped back, “All done! I’ll see you soon,” you said with a gentle smile, already moving to tidy up your station.

Tom looked at you, barely giving a nod. “Yeah, okay,” he muttered, snatching his phone up as he got out of the chair. He didn’t look back as he walked out the door, but even as he strode down the hall, your voice and your warm smile lingered in his mind more than he cared to admit.

Back inside the trailer, you sighed, leaning back against the counter as you watched him go. You smiled to yourself, determination growing. I’m going to get you to open up eventually, Tom Ryder. Just you wait.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N ~ so sorry for not posting as much, exams are taking up most of my time. hopefully ill be back to writing more over the Christmas break!