#little slime on beefs hat :')

[insomniamamma]

Maze: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (Changes AU)

A/n: Same AU as Changes. The unnamed town in this story is fictional, an amalgam of the town my folks grew up in and where a good chunk of my family still lives. Western New York state/northern Pennsylvania. It's basically the ass end of Appalachia. You can smell the benzene leaching up through the soil. This AU is sort of a love letter to that weird ass place. Reader character is childhood friends with Benny and Will Miller.

Warnings: shitty family dynamics. Mentions of alcohol use. Mild injury mentions. Casual sexism. Mentions of drug use. Benny is a menace and needs his own warning. Reader has a douchebag ex named Zach. A very soft kiss.

          Hey Squirt!" Says Benny, ducking into the close cavern of the store, smells like cigars and beef jerky. Jerry's in the back making Italian sausage that will melt your face off. He's got a heavy hand with the spices. While you were out in the world, away from this place and this grimy store, the taste of those blistering sausages never quite left you. Nothing you picked up at Vons or Whole Foods or any of the specialty shops Zach took you too (when he deigned to do anything so plebeian as actually shopping for his own goddamn groceries) could equal what Jerry made in the back room, blood smirched apron and greasy paper hat.          "Hey Benny,"          "What're you doin for Halloween?" You shake your head.          "Nothing. Why?"          "Me and the boys are gonna enter the costume contest out at Fox Grove. We're doin a group costume. Will's thinking Wizard of Oz."          "Fox Grove?"          "You know, the old gravel pit. Some out of state chuckleheads built a luxury campground around it. People get married there and shit."

        "God. That's bizarre." The gravel pit had been full of water since before you were born. Some previous owner had stocked it with fish and built a handful of cabins which stood empty, sagging into the weed choked banks. When you were little your Pa and your uncle and the Millers would go there and fish, styrofoam cups of worms bought from the store you work in now. As an adult you understand that it was likely an excuse for the men folk to hang out and drink beer and watch the sun set behind the trees and get out of the house for a second.

        You and Benny and Will would cast out into the gently shifting water and watch your bobbers like hawks for the slightest bit of movement. Mostly bluegills and channel cats, the occasional walleye all taken off the hook by the nearest adult and plopped back in the water. It doesn't occur to you until years later that you were likely trespassing the whole time. Once Benny got hooked through the web of his hand and panicked, and your Pa pushed the barb through and clipped it off with a pair of needle nose pliers he kept in his tackle box, quick and neat as a magic trick. You're alright Big Ben. Wash the fish-slime off, and we'll put a Band-Aid on it.         "I know, right?" Says Benny, "They've been doing a big Halloween bash about five years running. What do you say? Pope's too ugly to be Dorothy."         "If I'm Dorothy, what're you going to be?"         "Toto! Duh. C'mon it'll be fun. Fish is gonna be the scarecrow." Benny grins and you narrow your eyes at him. Benny's been not so subtly poking at you since that night around the fire. He likes you. So? Sooooo. Damn it Ben, I'm not looking to jump into anything right now. Liar. Fuck off.         "What do you say, Squirt?" Time off won't be an issue. Mac's General Store and Butcher Shop closes at 7pm sharp, Jerry sends you home with bleeding cuts of meat wrapped in white paper more often than not.         "Sounds fun," You say, "I'm in."

        You've got to drive to Bradford to find your costume, a Spirit Halloween set up in the old Ames. The shoes aren't included so you sacrifice a pair of ballet flats you found lurking in your old room, a handful of shirts still on hangers, speckled with dust, the dress you wore to junior prom still all shimmery in plastic as if you could step right back into it. Pa finds you dumping red glitter on your glue coated shoes.         "This for the costume contest?"         "Yeah. We're doing Wizard of Oz. It was Will's idea." You pick up a shoe from the newspaper you laid down to keep the glitter from getting everywhere, and give it a little shake to get the excess off.         "Will's gonna be the Tin Man, Benny's gonna be Toto," Pa huffs laughter at that, "Frankie's gonna be the scarecrow--"         "I don't like you palling around with that Morales fella." You hunch over your Dorothy shoes and crunch your eyes shut. To Ma and Pa you're always going to be the bad daughter, square peg to the round hole, uppity girl who ran for brighter things, fun and sun and California and look what that got her. You're always going to be sixteen. They take the implosion of your marriage as proof that they were right about everything, but you see how old they've become, the gods of your childhood worn down to ordinary people by time and distance.         "Frankie's a nice guy," you say.         "He's a druggie," says Pa, "Lost his pilot's license over it. Claire said he used to fly for Delta. He was on his way to being a captain--" As if there weren't all manner of drugs at Zach's corporate retreats. As if you hadn't seen him whooping it up with his buddies, glassy eyed and yapping a mile a minute while you tried to shrink yourself small. Coke was not your thing but that never stopped him. You've got to lay off you'd told him once, and he'd given you a look laced with pity and contempt, I know my limits. As if you hadn't seen him taking mystery pills. Crushed up Adderall would do in a pinch.         "Claire said. C'mon Pa, that woman shits from both ends and you know it." He tries to look stern, but you're not wrong. He squeezes your shoulder.         "You've had a rough go of it," he says, "Your Ma and I...just be careful."

        They come to pick you up. Will's ancient van with it's bad muffler and peeling Miller & Sons logo on the side, a bit of construction and rehab to supplement the refinery job over in Bradford. And when that shits out? Who knows. No one likes to think about it. Benny bounds out of the van and drops to all fours. He's wearing union suit that looks like bad shag carpet circa 1968, pointy pink lined ears on a headband. Collar with a name tag around his neck. Benny makes a big show of sniffing at you and barking.         "Down, Toto. Heel." you say. "Let's get a picture." Your Ma is decidedly bad at smart phones but she manages to herd the five of your into a frame and get the shot. Benny makes a snuffling sound and licks your hand.         "EEEEEWWW Benny!" And it's like being six again, Benny plopping a fat toad he found into your cupped hands, if he pees on you you'll have warts forever. When she turns the phone to show you, you are laughing, eyes scrunched shut, your two best friends laughing with you. Pope is rolling his eyes as if he somehow expects better from Benny. Frankie is smiling, soft but sad.

        Fox Grove is about what you expected. Someone took the old gravel pit and dressed her up. It's actually pretty. The event hall is a huge parody of a functioning barn, all exposed rafters and columns chainsaw carved into animals. Foxes. Wolves. Bears. Owls. All glowing and varnished, old-timey looking strings of Edison lights hanging from the beams. Jack-o-lanterns and votive candles and hay bales everywhere. Zach would roll his eyes so hard over this. You can almost hear him. Look at these people. Fetishizing rural poverty. This is not aspirational it's just sad. His judgment feels like a veneer over everything, like the yellowing of the walls in a smoker's house.         "You okay?" Asks Frankie.         "Yeah. Why?"         "You shivered."         "Goose walked over my grave I guess."

        "Those son-of-a-bitching kids!" Says Benny, "They had a budget! They had a Gofundme! That ain't fair!"         "C'mon," says Pope, "That Xenomorph was pretty impressive."         "They used KY Jelly for the slime in the movie," you say, "They had to buy it in bulk. Like, 50 gallon drums of it."         "How do you just know these things?" Asks Pope.         "I read it somewhere," you say.

        "Hey! Let's do the haunted trail!" says Pope. He's the cowardly lion, red bow in his short curls, wire-stiffened tail poking up in an s curve from his butt. Will has sweated off most of his make-up at his point, rivulets of silver streaking down into his beard, crumpled foil hat askew, big red heart hanging around his neck.         "You go ahead," says Frankie. He's cute as a button, straw poking out of his flannel shirt, big clumsy patches sewn on grease-stained jeans, his ball cap traded for a Walmart witches hat that he cut down.         "You don't want to do the haunted trail?" He shakes his head and won't quite look at you.         "I don't like jump-scares," he says.         "I don't either. We can do the corn maze," you say.         "Yeah?"         "Yeah. Let's get some cider first."         The corn maze is meant to be family friendly, lit every so often by jack-o-lanterns and LED candles. You have your paper cups of spiced cider, topped with maple whipped cream. You can hear the screams and shrieks from the haunted trail and the soft shirr of wind passing through the corn stalks. It's not meant to be scary, but you find yourself reaching for Frankie's free hand all the same, warm fingers enfolding yours. He squeezes your hand and smiles at you. There is a gazebo set up at the heart of the maze, all glowing jack-o-lanterns and candles in glass jars. You had no idea it was there and neither did Frankie.         "Oh wow," he says softly, candle light shining gold in his eyes.         "C'mon," you say, tugging him forward into the warm, shifting light. Fairy lights glimmer overhead. The distant purr of a generator and a thick extension cord running off into the dark are the only things that betray the illusion, same source powering the strobes and animatronics on the haunted trail.         "This is so pretty!" You fumble in the picnic basket that serves as your purse for the evening (It's not like I can fit in there, said Benny. You'd have to have a picnic basket the size of a Buick said Pope. It's not about movie accuracy it's about the vibes, said Will, making finger quotes.) You pull out your phone and snap a picture of Frankie, face frozen in a half-smile, hands raised in protest.         "Let's get one together," you say, and Frankie settles himself on the bench beside you. You hold your phone at arm's length. Frankie drapes his arm around your shoulders and pulls you close and you stiffen briefly. Zach was not about public displays of affection. Not towards the end anyway. Towards the end you were less of a person and more of a ticked check-box. Fancy house? Check. Fancy car? Check. Quiet girlfriend who looks presentable in the photos that circulate on social media? Check.         You take the picture but your mind is elsewhere.         "Hey," says Frankie, "You okay?"         "Yeah. Why?"         "You went somewhere else," he says, his arm around your shoulder goes slack.         "Sorry," you say, and shake your head, "It's just personal bullshit. Nothing to do with you." When you look at him there's no judgement there. Just concern and warm shifting light reflected in his eyes.         "Let's get a silly one, Scarecrow."         "Okay Dorothy."

        The maze branches off, or you take a wrong turn. You and Frankie find yourselves confronted with a huge tree with spreading branches and a hollow place, probably an old lightning scar, with a carved pumpkin tucked into it, winking candle-light eyes and grinning mouth, all around you the wind stirs the corn and makes it whisper, the giggles of everyone else lost in the maze, the squeals from the haunted trail, all this fills your ears and you squeeze Frankie's hand and he squeezes back, smiles at you so open and kind and you feel yourself smile in return.         "Are we lost?" You ask, your eyes finding his, warm and dark and bracketed in crow's feet that deepen as he smiles.         "Maybe a little," he says, "I don't really mind."         "I don't either." He is lovely in the dim, shifting light, candle-glow and crescent moon rising above the hills. His hands skim up your arms to rest on your shoulders and your hands find their way low around his waist.         "Can I kiss you?" He asks, "I mean, if you don't want to--" And you press your lips to his, a little indrawn huff of surprise and then he is kissing you back, slow and soft, cradling your face in his hands. He is gentle, unhurried. He tastes like apple cider.         "OH GROSS!" You and Frankie break apart,squinting in the flashlights from a half-dozen phones. A gaggle of kids dressed at Lord of the Rings characters come crashing into your little bit of the maze.         "It's a dead end, Gandalf, I think Mordor's that way." You call as they retreat on a raft of scandalized giggles. Frankie chuckles.         "Did we really just get cock-blocked by the Fellowship of the Ring? Did that just actually happen?" And the both of you crack up, clinging to each other like you're drowning. Frankie is beautiful when he laughs, eyes crinkled shut, lost to the moment, his laughter reverberates into you, warm rumble in his chest that you feel where you are pressed against him. As your laughter subsides into something manageable you find his arms slung lose around you, his forehead resting against yours.         "We should get going," he says, "Before those kids from 'Alien’ show up." You smile at him.         "Do you know the way?"         "I think so."

#frankie morales x f!reader #changes AU #happy belated halloween #frankie catfish morales x f!reader #triple frontier au

[mamamittens]

Since I'll probably never get to it, I figure I'd share this snippet I wrote for a fic I really wanted to do well over a year ago. Technically, I've wanted to write a The Gamer inspired fic for YEARS but math is hard and it's a lot of technical world building I could never commit to (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

Uhhh, context, it's about an OC named Mina (nickname, her full name is pretentious). She ate (? Was still deciding if I wanted it to be like The Gamer manga and it's just a random skill or a devil fruit) what's essentially a gamer fruit and periodically does dungeon runs. She's Thatch's niece, I wanted her to travel for a bit with the Straw Hats until they meet Ace and she explains she's looking for her uncle (with a horrific name, Thatch being short for like, Thatcher or smt, it's written down somewhere???) And Ace realizes who she's looking for. Not sure if he thought Thatch was dead or nah but takes her along cause he feels responsible in at least taking her to Whitebeard as his technical grandkid.

She went looking for Thatch cause she's still a minor but owns all her parents assets and her paternal uncle has gambling debts... And may have been about to sell her out to Crocodile, didn't decide honestly. But basically she REALLY couldn't stay home any longer.

Anyway! Until an incident where she nearly dies and discovers she can actually call for help, she... Doesn't quite blend well with the crew. Mostly cause Thatch has BEEF with his family and doesn't quite know how to handle this.

This snippet is after her DF is discovered and she's saved from a boss battle, essentially.

The rest is explained well enough in this fic.

(snippet under the cut)

The kitchens were mostly vacated at the moment. Thatch’s division busy elsewhere until it was time to get to the meat of meal prepping for dinner. Tonight required a lot of potatoes, so Thatch decided it was as good a time as any to have some quality time with Mina. His niece… fuck it was so weird to consider everything he’d learned so far.

Before, he was too blinded by the strong resemblance to his sister—and to be fair he knew it and tried to keep his distance while sorting through his feelings. He knew better by now than to blame her for who she was related to. It was hard though. Hell, even her cocky laugh reminded him of his sister. The mental image of his niece standing strong with bandages wrapped around her stomach, eyes blazing as she challenged the hell spawn in that dungeon haunted him.

It was just… so different from the amicable, eager young girl he had seen up until that point. He thought that Mina was kind of weak, maybe with a secret bitchy side like his sister. But it was clear now that Mina and himself were cut from a very familiar cloth. Something stronger than steel ran in their spine that made a cornered fight turn into unique opportunity to overtake their enemy. Anything can be an advantage with a little creativity. And it was clear that Mina had been very creative her whole life with the ease that she handled a rapidly spiraling situation beyond her control.

Not quite comfortable leading people, clearly, but eager to share knowledge to gain an upper hand.

And now he was here. Sitting on a barrel opposite to his niece, both of them huddled over a growing pile of peeled potatoes. The sound of knives swiftly cutting apart the skin the only sound for a very long moment. Thatch just… wasn’t sure where to start.

What could he say?

“…So. Dungeons, huh?” Thatch grimaced at the piss poor start but kept going, “How long has that been going on? I know you said earlier they weren’t optional but when did they start?” Mina glanced up at him.

“I was ten, actually. Not sure if it was because of my birthday or because I reached a high enough level. It was a pretty tame dungeon though. Slime monsters, but they were just little goopy puddles. Cute but they tended to get bigger fast if I didn’t take them out quick enough. Almost drowned because I didn’t realize I could physically rip them apart and I didn’t have a weapon at the time.” Mina explained, smoothly running the potato in her hand in circles to form a seamless peel.

“Wow. That must have been pretty scary. How did… how did Victoria take it?” Thatch couldn’t help but ask. It sounded messy. And if nothing else, he just knew his sister would have loathed the mess.

“Victoria?” Mina paused, looking up at him for a moment until she realized who he was talking about. “Oh! Her. Uhm, she wasn’t there. I had been playing in my room at the time. No one saw me disappear and I cleaned up afterwards.”

Thatch frowned, hands still making the practiced motions to efficiently peel yet another damn potato.

“Kind of lucky then, I guess. Someone probably noticed when things got more serious though, right? I mean… back there… you were impaled Mina. Most people can’t just walk that off.” Mina snorted.

“Nope. No one noticed. I was pretty good at covering up for any… mistakes I made. And the worst anyone saw was bruises, but that could come from anything. Usually I just said I tripped over a rug. Gramps saw through it a little, I think. But he didn’t call me out on it.” Mina elaborated with a smile.

Thatch’s heart stuttered and he stopped. Knife poised over a potato.

“You could have died.” Thatch said, looking up at Mina as she stopped as well. She looked confused. “You were ten. You didn’t leave the island until you were fifteen. Five years you were dropped in random dungeons. And no one noticed?! Victoria never happened to see anything? Or her husband?! Were they all blind?!” Thatch knew he was growing a little hysterical, but it wouldn’t leave his mind.

A little ten-year-old girl, his fucking niece, having to plan around death matches in a house crawling with servants. And his sister was always a nosy bitch. There was no way in hell she missed even a misplaced hair on her only child!

“Well, the staff were a bit busy running the estate. I liked doing chores and helping, but if I disappeared for a few hours no one minded.” Mina looked confused as to why Thatch was growing more and more upset. Finally, something clicked. “Oh! Right. I’m really used to it by now, but that’s probably upsetting to hear. A little kid killing monsters in her free time without a choice. I’m… sorry?” Mina grimaced herself at the awkward trailing apology.

An apology. She was apologizing to Thatch.

Somehow, Thatch knew this was not going to be the most upsetting part.

“Did my sister really never notice you fighting for your life?! You were ten!” Thatch tossed the potato into the peeled pile, ignoring how little was left after he got a bit too hasty with his knife. Mina frowned, tilting her head in confusion. It was cute, but Thatch could already feel the horror dawning on him.

What the fuck did his sister do all those years?

“I don’t know how she could have noticed, Thatch. They weren’t even there?” Mina looked so earnest as she said that. Like there wasn’t something really fucked up with that sentence. Sure, plenty of kids grew up without parents. Technically, so did Thatch, but his parents were too invested in their business and politics to be emotionally present. They were at least mostly there as his sister and himself grew up.

“What?”

Mina looked down, selecting another potato with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Well, yeah. I don’t know when they left. I don’t actually remember them, so it must have been when I was really young.” Mina laughed, the sound a little too forced, “You know… I actually thought I was just like… an illegitimate child. Thought that the portrait of my parents was my grandparents because the painting was so old. It made sense at the time. Oh! Or that I was adopted. Possibly just a really lucky kid of the staff that… never wanted to acknowledge me. They were on trips all over ever since I could remember. I never talked to them. Not even once.”

Thatch put down the knife, afraid he would do something terrible if he held onto it.

“Mina…” Her shoulders were trembling despite how steady her hands were as they meticulously separated the potato skin with delicate curves of her knife.

“They showed up again for a week, isolating because they were sick and didn’t want it to spread to the staff I guess. My parents were home for a whole week and I didn’t even know they were my parents until the reading of the will. I stood there dressed in funeral clothes and so very confused. Gramps realized after the will reading that no one had actually told me who my parents were. I was just educated ‘as a young lady should be’ and that was that.” Thatch gently reached out and pulled away the knife. Tears dropping onto the blade and sinking onto the exposed potato, “T-They left when I was just a baby. I… I never got to know them. Never got a chance to. D-Did I… did I do something wrong? Is that why they left and never came back? Was it that obvious I wasn’t worth the trouble?”

Thatch crumbled as Mina finally looked up at him.

Her face was red, eyes bright with tears. She looked hopeful and resigned, like she thought she knew exactly what he’d say. Like she was afraid of what he might say. A weak sniffle jostled her whole body as she pressed her lips in a thin line. Mina was almost grown, but Thatch had no trouble lifting her into his lap and tucking her head under his chin.

“Oh Mina.” She sobbed, hands fisting the back of his shirt desperately as she clung to him. Thatch pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered into her hair, “I am so sorry, sweetie. I don’t know why my sister left, but you’ve always been worth it. You will always be worth it.” Thatch tucked his niece in closer to his chest and stroked her hair.

He had thought, having grown up in such a lonely household, that his sister would never repeat what their parents had done. It seems that she decided to top their neglect instead. It was harsh, but as his poor niece cried harder in his arms, he solemnly decided that the only good thing his sister did outside of giving birth was die and leave Thatch with custody.

Sure, he didn’t really know how to parent anyone, but fuck. There was no damn way he could fuck up harder than his sister did. And he had plenty of family here with him to help. Hell, Oyaji would know exactly what to do if nothing else! Thatch sighed and resigned himself to the strong possibility that they would be behind on the potatoes.

He sure as hell wasn’t going to tell his niece to suck it up just so his division wouldn’t have to peel any vegetables. They’d understand anyway. Despite wanting to follow his example in case things went south, Mina had clearly grown on them. Her eager (attention starved), willing to learn (desperate to please), and charming (a miracle in the midst of shitty parenting) personality winning them over. It was a wonder she wasn’t more fucked up—though a strong argument could be made for her reckless behavior. That did explain why she got along so well with Ace though... Actually, that was probably also a severe warning sign in it’s own right given Ace’s horrendous self-worth issues. But ‘gramps’, which was probably old Barty if he remembered the head butler well enough, could hardly be expected to pull a miracle out of his ass to make up for every deficit.

#one piece #one piece thatch #one piece oc #i designed several powered outfits for her and everything #it was a pretty fun project honestly #i really hyperficated on Mina for a while #sad boi hours tho #this is what i meant when I said i keep adding sad stuff to the backgrounds of my fics #like ow this genuinely hurt to come up with and write ngl

[multipikblog]

Cooking Cartoon

Walking, the trek to Everest looks at the recipe book that Marshall is trying to seal. First, if the animator puts the eggs in the oven, it needs a baking powder to increase the yeast Cooking Cartoon Then the crust needs to be rounded. Then you need tomato sauce. For sowing cheese and small tomatoes are sown and lemon first. Cook for 20 minutes. Let’s see how Marshall does this. I will go back to where I knew me now with your PAH spider. It’s okay to make pizza. Marshall watched Rocky comment. This is the hamburger he wants. Burger bread with beef in the middle.

Add the mustard seeds to the ketchup, add the cheese and chop the tomatoes. It should be easy and hassle -free. Use more. Almost perfect, you’re completely back. Check out the recipe book on how to cook blueberries next so Sky can make a cake. To start, you will need flour, butter, sugar and vanilla sugar. Mix the eggs and peel the oranges. Then place the muffins in the oven for 15 minutes and try the Skyth. It must be too thin. Makes it thick on top. For the next chicks, the cake doesn’t catch a smooth bite. Take a look at the cucumber chips. Yes, little Dobin seems perfect. Yes, that’s how to make a smoothie, but let’s take a look at more information on how to cook it.

Pour the ingredients into this mixer. First you need to thicken the regular yogurt, which is made by cleaning and cutting the berries into bananas. Finally, add the apple juice and mix so that the fruit is smooth. Cartooning is not very good. Check out the repair book to find out what Chase did. Why not eat spaghetti with noodles and add a little salt and pepper? It’s time to pack cheese and grated vegetables. Well, well, now you get heavy equipment. Where's the spaghetti? Try the spaghetti dish. Ice making for Everest is now ruined.

She should pour a glass of milk and add sugar to the egg yolks to make it sweet. A little for the consistency and flavor of the vanilla bean. Then mix everything and put in the fridge and the crushed stone becomes a delicious ice cream. I’ll give you my recipe, I don’t think it should be known. I need more, but I think that’s enough to spread the cooking comics. This whole boy. I am a genius. Lasts 30 minutes forever. Not bad in 1 minute. So boy, I mean Ollie Everest is always here. Everyone can cook, yes. And I never had a problem. Yes, Marshall did not have to turn the crushed stone into ice. I had a few issues with what happened. Hello everyone. In fact, I heard your treasurer so we could have a laugh at the food. Oh, that’s sweet of you, but shiny, stop eating. Oh, what do we do with all these foods we don’t know much about? But I like the rest. What are we trying to do to me? I’m still far from this barrier, don’t worry about the pebbles I have We wrote a lot of food, yes, it's a lot of fun. What do you think you should wear as a pizza chef now? Yes, how to make a chef comic with branding and characters and I hope you will join us. You are ready to start with dry food, starting with drawing a face for our chef. Start with a chin and draw a curve in the center of the page. I'll come down, pull it back to the edge of his face and tie it up. Draw a little more C and a recliner on each side of this curve. For the other ear to work well, pull the end of the head from the top of the ear to both sides.Then pull the top of the hat and create a line or curve. Let's try to write a coca comic that connects each other. Put the circle on the side that has a good eye, and actually put a circle here for the other eye. It's in the eyes. Draw a small circle in the lower right and look for a small circle in the lower left. Now let's paint the big circles and leave those little white circles. We have to draw his big nose, we make a right circle in the middle of his nose. Chefs and drinkers do this by drinking a lot of drinks, but not all. But it could be one of them, so I'll draw a picture here and wear a scarf. It goes down and rejuvenates, then we touch his nose. At the end of the slime of the universe we are alive Read More....